#(i have a few other verses i want to add eventually but these were my priority)

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [5/...]

“Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, I'll be there on their side. I'm losing by their side.”

— Mitski, "Bet On Losing Dogs"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 

It's been a few weeks since the events in Orange Town, and Luffy notices something that others do not. So, he decides to ask you.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, No (fully bodied) Buggy this chapter, Luffy being the precious cinnamon we all love and must protect above all else, flashbacks about Shanks, past discussions, Luffy and Reader have a heart-to-heart.

A/N: I was initially going to write them going to the Baratie this chapter, but it became too long so next one for sho.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk, @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You're sitting by the table in Party's bar, nursing a cold glass of rum against your cracked lips as you observe to the kid - Luffy - demonstrating his newfound Devil Fruit powers without any regard for poor Makino's furniture. 

You don't get him, at all. Then again, you don’t get kids. 

You've never thought of yourself as someone who easily got along with them ... or people in general. Shanks has always been the better-suited one for that kind of work. Whereas he is smiling and grinning at the kid’s mischief, you've barely offered him more than a glance at most.

Your crew has been positioned in Foosha village for the better part of the month, stacking up on resources and food in preparation for your next job. Incidentally, the Red-Haired Pirates also happened to be in town for similar excursions. You rarely see Shanks nowadays since you parted ways several years ago, but whenever you happen to come across one another, you share a drink on his tab.

While your crew is around and about, replenishing their strength and vigor for the work to come, you're content with just sitting here at your leisure. When you're not plundering or fighting or attacking Marine bases, you can't find it in yourself to do much of anything anymore. 

Nothing adds any purpose to your life save for what keeps you fed and clothed, which in the life of a pirate, simply means pirating.

"I've heard you had good fortune on your latest heist," Shanks says from where he's sitting opposite of you. "For your efforts, the Marines have granted you among the highest bounties in all of the East-Blue."

You hum noncommittally in response, not offering much to the conversation in terms of merriment. "The quality of the Marines has been in decline. It says more about their effort, or lack thereof, than mine."

"Do you know what they call you nowadays?"

"They call me a lot of names, you got to be more specific."

"'Cross-Hairs, the Beast of the East'. It's got a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

"Sure."

Shanks smiles the kind way he always does. Always has done.

"Gum-Gum Pistol!" 

The sound of yet another chair breaking has you rolling your eyes without even looking, and poor Makino ages ten years in seconds across the bar counter. 

"Luffy!"

"Sorry!"

Shanks laughs heartedly at the display, only to cut it short upon noticing Makino's even glare sent his way from across the bar. 

"You were careless," you state matter-of-factly and take another gulp from your drink. "You should've kept the fruit hidden more securely."

"Now, in my defense, I didn't think the lad would searching through my loot."

"Well, you should've." You slam your glass down, strong enough to leave a dent in the wooden surface. "What kind of captain leaves his loot undefended and unsupervised? Especially when it contains a Devil Fruit?"

Shanks doesn't argue with your statement and settles with taking a gulp of his own drink, letting your words simmer in his head. "You're right, I should've been more observant. Now, it'll be more difficult for him to achieve his dream."

"His dream? Of what? Becoming the King of the Pirates?" Try as you might, there's no suppressing the snort that escapes through your nose. "There's only ever been one King, and we all saw what happened to him. What do you think is going to happen to a kid who can't even swim?"

"Oh, come off it!" He gives you a playful nudge to the rib, which you reciprocate with a glare. He remains undeterred. "You mean to tell me you've never thought about finding the One Piece? Not even once?"

"I have no interest in whatever plunder Gol D. left behind." 

"Then, what does interest you?" He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and leans over to your side. "What is your dream?"

You grit your teeth under your lips, a flash of blue circulating in your head. "Dreams are for fools and children," you point your head to where Luffy is currently sitting, trying to put the chair back together with a half-empty tube of glue and little luck. 

"Come on, I know you better than that. Surely there's something in this world you want more than anything?"

"What I want is ..." You have half a mind to tell him the truth, whereas the other half wants to push the idea further down to the bottom of your chest. "Is another bottle of rum."

You raise your arm to Makino to gesture for another one, but Shanks is quick to lower it with a gentle shove of his arm. You flash him a scowl and brush off his hand, but unlike your crew or anyone else, he's not afraid.

"The point which I'm trying to make before you're completely pissed," he starts. "Is that no matter how much opposition one faces, it's that dreams are never out of reach if you have the will to reach for them."

He inclines his head over your shoulder, and you turn around to see Luffy successfully putting the chair back together. You don't know how he did it - it looked pretty busted minutes ago - but there it is, wholly intact.

And when the boy smiles, it's so vibrant and full of joy that it's almost blinding. He proudly runs over and shows the repaired chair to Makino, who proceeds to pat his head and hand him a plate of food.

"See?" Shanks grins. "Nothing is impossible."

"You can hardly consider putting a chair back together the same as achieving an impossible goal."

He shrugs. "Maybe not, but you won't know unless you try. All it takes is a little spirit."

You watch Shanks for a couple of minutes in silence, processing his mythic words, then shift your attention over to Luffy who's preoccupied with shoving an unholy amount of food into his mouth. If this is to become the future King of the Pirates one day, then it'll be an interesting future indeed.

"A little spirit, huh?" 

— — —

You're sad.

Luffy first notices it when you leave Orange Town, and it lingers throughout your voyage. 

For as long as he's known you, you've always been a person of relatively few words; never speaking unless you feel the situation requires it, and only acting when necessary. Even following the Kuro situation™, getting the Going Merry, and adding Usopp to his crew, he can tell that you're not all there anymore.

Not to be mistaken, you're not conspicuous with the way you behave. You still act like usual, talk like usual, however little, and commit yourself to your work on the ship, almost to an excessive extent. 

All in all, nothing’s changed about you. However, he’s gotten used to your face and general lack of expression most of the time, and though it doesn't seem to alter, he still catches onto the fact that you're sad. 

"Hey," he asks the group and props himself in the kitchen, legs crossed atop his seat. "Do you think she's any different?"

"Who? Your friend?" Nami asks, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, I think she's sad."

"Doesn't look any different to me," Zoro supplies while polishing his swords on the table. 

Usopp's in the middle of munching a piece of loaf, and answers with his mouth still halfway occupied. "Dunno how she usually is, but she's kinda terrifying if you ask me."

"No, she's not," Luffy dismisses lightly. 

"What's her position on the ship, anyhow? How'd you come across her?"

"She's always been with me," Luffy answers without any thought. "And she’s a good fighter.”

Zoro — to everyone’s surprise — nods his head to this in concurrence.

Their Captain claps his hands together to get the subject back on track. "But anyway, I just think she seems kind of down now."

"How can you even tell? With eyes like these, —” Usopp puts both of his index fingers at the crow’s feet of his eyes and draws them back to imitate yours. It’s borderline shameful, truth be told. “— I can’t tell for shit what she’s feeling or thinking.”

“I just can.” Luffy shrugs.

“Has she said anything?” Nami asks. “Anything to make you ask?”

“No, not really.” He heaves a sigh and props his hand under his chin, contemplating. “But she's been different since we left Orange Town.”

"If you ask me," Zoro speaks up. "You should ask her about her relationship with that fucking clown."

"Who? Boogie?"

"Buggy," Nami corrects. "Didn't you notice that at the end? They have a history, it's obvious. They know each other, and I don't know what pirate customs are like nowadays, but I doubt you'd touch the face of an enemy unless there was something going on. Has she said anything about it?"

Luffy shakes his head. “No... but then again, she never does tell me much about anything unless I ask.”

The tangerine-haired girl blinks as if the answer to this whole predicament is obvious. She quickly comes to realize that, to Luffy, it’s not.

“So…” she prompts slowly.

“So…?”

She rolls her eyes at his inability to catch her drift. “Go ask her.”

It’s like the thought never even crossed Luffy’s mind in the first place because truth be told, it hasn’t. He lights up like a candlestick on the spot. “Yeah, I should just ask her!”

“Ask me what?”

The members of the Straw Hat pirates (save for Zoro) withdraw in various unique positions, having not heard you make your entrance before you speak. 

You’re standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyebrow slightly quirked at the Baroque-esque scene in front of you. Deciding not to address the display, you simply ask, “Anything I should know about, Captain Luffy?”

Usopp doesn’t even dare to answer, because he knows you sure as hell don’t see him as a captain in general, much less your captain. He swears he notices you briefly look in his direction at the mention of the title, and a shiver runs across his skin. Like static electricity in the air.

“Oh, yeah,” Luffy turns to you, not an ounce of fear in his eyes as he pops the question. “Are you sad?”

You blink once, then twice, like the inquiry on its own is of unfathomable origins to you. “Do I look sad?”

The boy in the straw hat nods. “I think you do.”

“Then I’m not.” It’s not only an answer, but also a sentence that marks this subject as finished on your part. One that does not permit any subsequent additions.

You incline your head to the deck above. “We’re going to have company soon, likely Marines, and they seem to be in supply of heavy fire this time.”

———

The situation with the aforementioned opponents temporarily distracts the crew, yet Luffy maintains a close eye on you, taking note of anything that can point him to the source of the unknown problem. You talk relatively little with the other crew members, but you seem to have developed an amicable enough relationship with them compared to when you first met. 

Before, you could care less about getting to know them. Now, you’re actively going out of your way to ask Nami about her cartographic skills, even giving her tips for additions to her geographical detailing. You provide Zoro pointers on self-developed defensive techniques and ways to paralyze opponents in certain spots (which he seems appreciative of).

You even give Usopp a short nod when he tells you one of his fantastical stories, even knowing that they’re full of shit.

Luffy’s happy, but he still sees that you are not.

It’s all in your eyes. They’re hollow somehow, like the end of a barrel. He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he knows, and he’s known for a good while now.

So, that night, Luffy finds you in the kitchen by the windows, absentmindedly snacking on a red apple while you gaze into the dark nothingness outside. He also discovers that he’s subconsciously become quite observant of your habits as of late. 

For example, you specifically pick red apples above any other color when they happen to dock someplace, not even paying any mind to the green or yellow ones. Just the red ones.

“Hey,” he positions himself next to you on the bench, a piece of loaf tight in his hand. “Why are you sad?”

You turn your head just a fraction to the side to look at him, not annoyed, but not appreciative of the focus he’s settled on as of late. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? The Vice-Admiral looks a little weary as of late, after all. Are you sad about it?"

"Nope."

“So why do you insist that I’m sad?”

“Because you are,” he states like it’s obvious.

You huff humorously and return your attention to the window that supplies no real view. “How can you tell?”

“I just can.” He takes a generous bite of his food and continues talking, oblivious to the crumbles that fall while doing so. “When I’m sad, I—”

“Eat?”

“Well, yeah.” He swallows the bite down. “But I also like to talk about it with someone I trust. Shanks used to say that true friends are the kind of people you can share your heart with and not get hurt.”

This annoys you, that much he can tell. A nail digs into the apple you’re holding, leaving a crescent-shaped indent on the red skin. “Shanks said many things, and not all of it's true.”

This doesn’t deter him from pressing on the matter. “If you keep all the hurt inside, it’s going to turn bad. You know, Makino said that if you leave a piece of ham in the fridge too long, it’ll get sour and people can’t eat it.”

“Only you could find a way to compare this sort of thing to food.” You withdraw your finger from the apple and end up leaving it alone altogether. A minute or ten of silence waves between you, laced with unspoken questions and denied answers. “Tell me, Luffy, just how much did Shanks tell you about his past?”

He thinks for a moment, mimicking your movements by putting his loaf aside. “Just about his adventures with the Red-Haired Pirates, and a little about the time you served with him. Is it true you were strong enough to throw a three-hundred-pound man to the ground when you were thirteen?”

He swears it’s a snort that he catches leaving your throat, but it’s hard to differentiate it from your more-than-usual scoffs. “He exaggerated.”

“Really?”

“The man was two-fifty, at most.”

Luffy grins with genuine admiration, so much so that your face tilts back slightly, being overwhelmed by the mere brightness that is him. “Wow! You must’ve been quite a beast when you were a kid!”

He notices it again, the sadness that latches onto your eyes like insects to sour meat. Whatever brief smile adorned your lips moments ago disappears like it was never there at all. Thinking he said something wrong, Luffy prepares to apologize when you speak again.

Your voice is soft yet faint like you’re afraid speaking too loudly will make something bad happen. “It wasn’t just me and Shanks, back then, you know.”

The Captain of the Straw Hats thinks it’s almost unnatural of you to be this demure, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“Buggy was there, too. It was the three of us, together.”

“Oh, yeah.” He remembers it now. “He did mention that in Orange Town. You served the same crew.”

“… He did, did he?”

“He said you and Shanks betrayed him, but I didn’t believe him.” Luffy knows you and has known you for longer than he’s known a lot of people in his life. You’re one of the few permanent people he’s had, and he knows with a certainty that you’re not the kind of person who leaves anyone behind, not without reason. 

Even if you did have a reason for leaving Buggy, it must have been a good one.

Your mouth opens and shuts several times in the span of a minute like you’re hesitating to talk about the past. You’ve never been one to talk about it, except to share some details about your time as captain, and even that was limited to the bare minimum.

Still, Luffy, being in no hurry for you to reach an answer, waits patiently by your side until you do decide to talk about it.

Talk about what he believes is the reason for your sadness.

“We were close back in the days,” you begin slowly. “Me, him, and Shanks. It was us against the rest of the world, and we were going to sail together to the end of the seas one day. It was our dream.”

“Then, what happened?”

You put your palm over both your eyes and rest your elbow on the window frame, heaving a sigh that resembles someone who’s spent too much of their life working and working and working without catching any breaks. Pure, simple exhaustion weighs you down, Luffy can tell. 

When you speak next, you sound tired too, and perhaps a little strained. He can’t see your eyes, and so, he can’t truthfully tell what you’re thinking now. “The thing is, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” You breathe through your nostrils. “Our captain was gone, and so was the crew, but we three were still together, and I thought we were going to stay together.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No … We didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but one day when I was talking with Shanks about what to do next, Buggy came in, and it … He looked at me like … Like he hated me.” You exhale. “He did hate me, and I don’t know what it was I did, but he practically told me that we were done … And then he left. I never saw him again, up until Orange Town.”

Luffy doesn’t require your eyes this time to tell that you’re sad now because you are. You’re so sad that it’s destroying you from the inside, and even that is an understatement on its own. There are no tears trickling down your cheeks, no quivers or thickness to your voice, no nothing to base his assumptions on, but he knows.

He stays silent for a short while, doing nothing but look at you. You’re one of the strongest people he knows. He’s seen you fight; seen the strength you possess, the fire in your eyes. You’ve stayed with him ever since Shanks left Foosha Village, you’ve looked after him from the sidelines when you thought no one was watching. 

You’ve been with him throughout everything, and seeing you like this makes him feel blue on your behalf. You don’t express it yourself – you never do. You carry your weight with the same kind of strength you always do, never letting anyone see you beyond just that, and sometimes, he wonders if you’re lonely because of it. 

At least, now he knows why you’re so sad. You’re heartbroken.

He’s never been acquainted with the feeling himself, has never felt any particular inclination toward it, but he can tell it’s your heart that’s hurting now, and it’s not as easy to heal as that cuts he received on his chest from the butler.

His hat seems to itch the harder he thinks about it, as if there’s something digging at his scalp through his hat. He thought Nami patched it up for him. He tries to scratch at it, but for some reason, it doesn’t cease. Maybe he’s got lice? 

He ignores it. “It’s weird. Bunky seems to think you were the one who left him for Shanks.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know. You’re not that kind of person.” He says it so easily, without a smidgen of doubt or hesitation. You look at him through your peripheral vision, and your eyes slightly widen at his statement. “But, do you know what happened between them? Shanks and Bonky, I mean?”

“No, I don’t.” You admit with a shake of your head. You’ve tried to figure it out for years, and at some point, you decided to give up. “Shanks never told me, but whatever it was, it was enough for the stupid clown to leave for… He chose a childish rivalry over me.”

“Then, there you have it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding, so why don’t you just tell him if you meet him again?”

“You seem awfully defensive of the guy who destroyed an entire village and almost drowned you.”

“Yeah, but talking about him seems to make you happy.”

You freeze for a bit, snort, and turn your back to the window frame, leaning back and crossing your arms across your chest in silent resignation. “I tried to explain things to him back in Orange Town, and a fat load of good that did. Like I said, he hates me, and he’s sure as hell not my favorite person at the moment. If we do meet again, it likely won’t end any better than it back in Orange Town.”

“You know, –” Luffy takes another bite of his bread. “It didn’t sound like he hated you.”

“Hmm?” You raise an eyebrow, halfway curious and halfway skeptical. 

“He still remembers that you like red apples and that you hide knives in your shoes. Is that true?”

You raise both your eyebrows and look at Luffy like he’s just grown a second head. Without a word, you pull your left foot up until it rests on the bench, and withdraw not one or two knives, but four. Small and subtle, hardly enough to turn any heads, but in a flash, you throw it across the kitchen until it lands on a specific spot on the opposite wall. 

Bull’s eye.

“We used to have knife-throwing competitions,” you reminisce idly, staring at the knife lodged deep into the wall. “I was good, but Buggy was better.” Your lip tilts up an inch or two. “We made bets, and whoever lost would have to steal a bottle of whatever liquor we happened to find in the next town we docked at.”

“Oh?”

“I ended up snatching quite a lot of bottles, but once every blue moon, he would have to snatch one instead.” You smile. It’s an actual, genuine, honest smile this time, and Luffy can’t help but marvel at the sight. It’s a rare thing for you to smile like you’re doing now. It’s usually brief or sarcastic and never seems to reach your eyes. 

This one does.

He thinks you look pretty when you smile. It’s your smile, and it’s so warm that he wishes you could do it more often. He tells you as much, and a red color falls over your cheek. You promptly turn your face to the other side to save face, and it makes Luffy think.

When he thinks about his dream of becoming King of the Pirates, he can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. So, that begs the question: “What is your dream?” 

What makes you smile?

“My dream …” You reach for your apple and hold it against your face, the uneaten side of it shining against your face. “Is unattainable.

“I don’t think it is,” Luffy says without missing a beat and takes your hand in his, determined to make you see that. “I think that no matter how much stands against us, dreams are never impossible if you have the will to reach for them. All it takes is a little spirit.”

He doesn’t know where those words come from, but he’s heard them from someplace, and judging by your staggered reaction, you’ve heard them too. 

“A little spirit, huh?”

“Exactly! So, please tell me, what’s your dream?”

You look straight ahead into the room, resting your elbows back on the window frame without a word. He thinks you’re about to decline his question or ignore it altogether. However, he’s surprised to hear you actually answer this time, truthfully too.

“My dream was to sail the seas with him again.”

Suddenly, the itchiness on his head stops, and it stays that way.

[fancyfeathers]

I was wondering this for a while, who would most likely desire a darling like Dazai but female out of the Moriarty brothers, also if you consider the light novels the mental abilities of Bsd verse far surpass the MP verse, so the character with Dazai's level of intellence and his persona.

Okay so I deep dived into reading about Dazai cause I am already a huge BSD fan (Paul Verlaine is the best character and I will fight someone on this) and while Dazai is undoubtedly a genius, he is not quite as smart as say William or Mycroft, he is probably in between Sherlock and William. If you set it in perspective he seems smarter because of the times the mangas/animes take place, Moriarty the Patriot taking place in the Victorian Era while Bungou Stray Dogs is set in modern day (2010s-2020s), so it makes sense how Dazai would seem smarter because he has access to quite a few more modern tools while William does not. There is also the fact that Dazai is written to be this smart mentor character rather than the main character so there is a mysterious feeling to him that adds to the genius appearance.

Anyway continuing on lol

Also for reference I’m going to be using more ADA Dazai for reference, like after all the stuff in the PM happened

The answer is William, because it is pretty obvious that William has a thing for energetic genius detectives when you look at his interactions with Sherlock. He probably meets his darling when she gets hired via her detective agency to investigate a disappearance of one of his students or something similar, similar to what happened to Lucian, something that would also catch William’s attention. They would not talk, he would just see her out of the corner of his eye, walking about campus. Then when he looks into her and the disappearance he finds out that she is a detective from a well known agency who was hired to look into the disappearance by the family of the student. He did not even speak to her until the student was found and the case was closed, she found the student, but he was the one who put an end to the one who kidnapped them in the first place, the other making the other’s job even more difficult. He would play the role of worrying professor and thank her for saving his student, and drops the question…

“I wonder how you understand criminal activity so well? You found him so quickly, it is quite remarkable.”

He looked into her, digging as deep as he could to see if she would be an issue, similar to what he did with Sherlock. Sure to find out she was a detective with a high intelligence level with self sacrificing tendencies was easy, but it took a bit of help from Albert and perhaps asking Mycroft for a favor to find out about her past…

138 counts of conspiracy to murder…

312 counts of extortion…

625 counts of assorted fraud and other crime…

She was an executive of a criminal organization during her youth and now she deserted them to turn a new leaf. Honestly they are an enigma even to William, so he begins to keep tabs on her, having Moran or Bonde staking out near her agency and having one of them or Fred follow her when she breaks from her normal pattern of working at her agency’s office or going on certain cases. He will even find one of her colleagues whom she mentors and ask the young boy about her.

“Hm? You want to know about her, well she found me when I was kicked out of my orphanage, she is a bit of an odd one but she and the agency took me in when no one else would.”

Eventually he follows her himself one day when she is leaving work, but he certainly did not expect to find her visiting a grave. William pieces it together that she is one of the only people who visits this grave and takes care of it. She just turns over her shoulder to look at him with a smile.

“Hello Professor Moriarty, I was wondering when you were going to follow me yourself rather than having your colleagues do it.”

She knew he was following her this whole time and he sits with her at the grave in silence for a bit, waiting for her to say something, to explain what she is doing here and of course she catches on and answers before he even needs to ask.

“The person buried here was my first friend, when he died he encouraged me to do something meaningful and help other people instead of what I was doing. He wanted me to do something good with my life and so I left. I threw out everything I had before to do something meaningful, I know it will never make up for the wrongs I have done, but it is a start and well… I really do hope the wicked can change their ways because otherwise everything I have done has been in vain and I am a disgrace to the promise I have made to him.”

In a way her words may put the world in perspective to him but he cannot stop his plans to rid the world of the class system. Then again he now has a new found respect for her that he would not dare lay a hand on her, but that being said he cannot allow her to get in the way and if push comes to shove he will deal with her as necessary, but again he respects her too much to harm her…

Taking her in…

He looks at the good she has done and unlike the nobles he has killed she has actually tried to make amends for her actions.

She has made herself a new, taking what was once was wicked in her heart and making it pure…

Her heart is a reflection of what he wants to do to this horrible world.

[jellycrusher]

Wolves and Lambs: Part 1

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Synopsis: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter's Premise: "How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me."

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"How does it feel to be the only female alpha here on the grid?" The reporter extends his mic to you during the last press conferences on the last F2 Grand Prix in Abu Dhabi.

Here we go again. "It doesn't feel any different. Everybody here puts out their all when racing and I do that too. Outside of race week, I could say that they're like my younger brothers. It's fun."

"Congratulations again for your promotion to Formula 1 for the next season. Do you have any expectations? Any goals coming in to next year?" At least this reporter is not sexist unlike the others.

"I have been the test driver for Aston Martin for almost two years now. I'm grateful that I've been given the seat alongside Fernando Alonso. Any expectations? I've seen how hard everyone works back in the factory. I hope we develop a better race-winning car. My goal is definitely to win a Grand Prix." You can't help but smile at the thought that your next career move is inching closer and closer now.

"Thank you very much. That's y/n y/l/n, everyone. Your 2023 F2 World Champion." You bid goodbye to the reporter while your Press Officer ushers you to the next reporter.

After your meeting with the Aston Martin Team, your assistant tugs your shirt to signal you to walk to Mike Krack, the team principal.

"Here comes our favorite female driver!" He enthusiastically opens up his arms to welcome you in a tight hug. "Are you ready for the next season?"

"All good. I'm itching to jump in the car and drive." You chuckle as he release you from the hug.

"Hello sir. I just would like to go through something with you." Megan, your assistant, clears her throat which caught the attention of your new team principal. "I just informed y/n that you are aware of her true classification. I want to know how do we handle it from here."

You freeze in your spot as you observe Mike's face. It was astounding that your team principal is still very much determined to add you to the lineup despite knowing that you are not an Alpha, rather an Omega. He assures that he didn't care about it but what he looks for in a driver is talent, grit, and passion.

All your former team in F3 and F2 were never made aware of this fact, even until now. You never had a problem with this secret since your heat haven't arrived yet. At 25, you were considered a very late-bloomer, Normally, one would have their first heat at around 17-20 years old. If you were asked, you prefer it to never arrive at all. Better that way, at least it won't affect you during your races if ever it comes unexpectedly.

Ultimately, you had to force your manager to be upfront with Mike Krack. She was hesitant at first but you knew it was inevitable. The first one is always unpredictable and is affected by your emotions. It's better if your contract stays intact and won't be affected by it.

"We'll keep it under wraps. Limit the people within our team. I know a few people in the media so if this gets out, we can control it. I'll do everything that I can to keep a talent such as yours." Mike pats your back as he noticed you keeping quiet at Megan's side.

It's a wonder that you were able to keep it a secret up until now. It's not that it's forbidden to have Omegas as drivers in motorsport. There were a few male Omegas and only one female Omega before. She drove for one season and retired on the next. It was a very brief stint. Since then, no female omegas were ever able to climb up to Formula 1. Well, not until you but it's a secret. For now.

Of course you want to make a name for yourself. Not just being the first female driver since the 50s but a female Omega. It's something to be proud of. Although, majority of the people are still against it and will surely doubt your talent before they even see it.

Most of the people in the paddock that are either managers, mechanics, presenters, race engineers, and PR officers are almost all Betas and a few are only Omegas; just to name a few. The drivers and team principals are almost entirely Alphas.

You remember Megan mentioned that two of the drivers on the 2024 grid are Omegas but you forgot the names. Well, she also painfully reminded you to keep your classification a secret from them so forgetting who's who is not actually a bad thing.

Back in your F3 and F2 days, whenever Alpha drivers would argue with each other and get rowdy, you could literally feel the effects within you. Shivers down to your spine, tightening chest, trembling hands. Used to having that kind of physical effect on you during those situations, you would just avoid any altercations with any of them.

You were dubbed "The Lamb" of the paddock, being the calm and collected driver out of all of them. In contrast to your nickname, you were like a wolf when you put on the helmet. You would obliterate every driver during every race, herding them to the side.

"I look forward racing alongside our new driver." You, Megan, and Mike swiftly turned your head towards one direction. The sight of the Spanish driver smiling made you freeze. "I've seen your lap times during one of the test drives at Silverstone. It's been the talk of the factory. You almost beat Max's record lap time on the track."

He's definitely an Alpha. The Alpha aura that the two time world champion exudes is definitely nerve-racking. Any other Omega should've felt this when they met him, for sure. It's good that you're used to being around Alphas that it's not obvious in your body language that you were affected.

You bumped fists with Alonso. "Let's not forget the impression you left on the other drivers on FP1 back in Abu Dhabi GP when 11 rookies joined the practice for the Driver Development Program. You drove my AMR23 like a beast and you were the only rookie who was able to put their car in the top 10. In P3, at that." Alonso chuckles, reminding him how the team radios of other drivers went when you were passing them on the track, as broadcasted.

"Thank you sir. Just wanted to show everyone who they might compete against." you replied.

"Oh you most definitely did." he smirks.

It was a comfortable welcome within Aston Martin. Even Lance Stroll, who took a break from Formula 1 to recover from his injuries due to a career-changing incident, worked with you and Alonso to work out the kinks in the car. Being the son of Lawrence Stroll, he won't leave his son out in Formula 1 in any kind of way. Plus, Lance is a familiar face back in karting days so his presence actually helps.

Days pass and it all felt like a blur. You were practically living in the factory when you made certain to be as hands-on as possible with the development of the car. When you sat in the car for almost 2 hours for the seat fitting, Megan basically bribed the other engineers to let you rest for once. The other employees nearby were laughing because Megan was pushing the other engineers away that you were hollering to come to you.

Come February, the day of the AMR24 reveal. It was the first event where you donned your green race suit in front of everyone. In the backstage, Fernando could notice the tenseness painting your face. Lance was also there with you two waiting. He smacked your back so hard that you almost cursed at him, warranting a loud laugh from Fernando.

The welcoming party for the F1 teams was held in Bahrain on the third week of February, just a few days before pre-season testing. Lance and Fernando accompanied you to a ballroom decorated elegantly from the floor to the ceiling where waiters are walking around to give hors d'oeuvres and champagne to people basically in dapper suits and sparkling dresses at every turn. F1 events never disappoint.

You gently push Lando and Fernando to leave you and to go mingle with sponsors and other people they know. Laughing at how close you got to the two drivers just after a few months of working with them. Fernando felt like a mentor and a father, while Lance felt like an annoying brother.

Multiple Alphas gathering in one venue is hurting your nose and making your head spin. As a temporary refuge, you occupy an empty seat at the bar and ordered an Amaretto Sour. It didn't take you two sips before somebody with a mild Alpha scent sits next to you. You look at the man through your periphery. Unruly hair so brown with soft curls and a gummy smile.

"Nervous on your first event?" he says, sliding his drink close to him after the bartender hands it out.

"Hm?" You swiftly turn your head at the man, still taking a sip from your drink.

"You're y/n, right? Aston Martin? I'm Lando Norris. I'm just wondering why a gorgeous woman like you is alone here at the bar?" he replies.

"Nice to meet you!" You offer your hand out to the Mclaren Driver and he shakes it. "Big events like this is not my thing. I'm just charging up my social battery right now. Fernando and Lance will likely pull me later to meet with our sponsors." You add while taking another sip to help mask the overwhelming scent of the venue.

"Tell me about it. It's an introvert's worse nightmare." Another man with an Australian accent pops up beside Lando, wrapping his arm on the man's shoulder. "I'm Oscar Piastri. Nice to meet you!"

Lando and Oscar turns out to be such a fun company to be with. They even introduced you to some of the drivers that were not so busy socializing with VIPs and sponsors; like Yuki Tsunoda, Daniel Ricciardo, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, Alexander Albon, and Logan Sargeant.

Lando was about to call Charles and Max when he spotted them from afar but you were quickly pulled away by Lance to do some rubbing shoulders with your team's sponsors.

"Hey! Why did you call me?" Charles pats Lando's back then proceeds to greet the others gathered around at the bar.

"I was going to introduce you to someone but Lance swept her away." Lando scoffs as he greets Max, who appeared behind Charles.

Max and Charles search the crowd for Lance and eventually spots the man with a gorgeous girl at his side in an emerald green long dress. "Remember the driver who got P3 in FP1 when we were in Abu Dhabi?" says Lando to the two men staring at your side profile while you were busy smiling and mingling with older men.

"Y/n Y/l/n, right? Aston Martin?" Charles said, still can't peel his eyes away from you.

"How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me." Max sneers, turns back at the bar and orders a drink.

"Come on mate. Like you were not? You were too aggressive at that FP1. You drove like you were racing with us already. Even overtaking at the pit lane exit." Charles lightly slapped his hand on Max's chest, earning a laugh from him and Lando.

"Still. At the end of the day, she was too eager to prove herself that it came off as reckless." Max takes the drink that he ordered and turns back around to his fellow drivers.

"Come on, you were like that when we were young. Remember our inCHIdent?" Charles, Lando, and even Pierre and Alex laughed so hard at the mention of the adorable memory of Charles and Max's rivalry when they were young.

"Maybe you're just nervous that someone might be able to finally de-throne you from your seat, your majesty?" Lando chuckles.

"We'll see at the pre-season testing if she's all bark and no bite." says Max, staring at you like you're a lamb in a wolf hunt.

"The new season of Formula 1 is just around the corner. But before the lights go out in Bahrain, you'll see all teams hit the track in three rigorous pre-season testing days. It's the first chance to see how this season is shaping up."

It was so surreal to see your driver number 13 in big font on the side of your AMR24. This is the dream and it all starts with the pre-season testing. With only just one car per team to be allowed per day, it was decided that you will drive on the first and second day, and Fernando on the third day.

You could say that it was a bit difficult on the first day. The car was superb and fast, except for the porpoising. After driving almost 150 laps with all the porpoising and understeer, your back felt like cracked uncooked noodles. The makeshift bed in your room in the garage basically inviting you to sprawl down on it. Thankfully, the car got better on the second day.

Everyone was so busy to improve everything on the car that you barely mingled with anyone outside of your team. Even on the third day where Fernando was out on track, you were still discussing with the engineers on what to improve and what strategies to use on the first race in Bahrain a week from now.

After the pre-season testing, Megan made sure to empty out at least two days in your schedule to give you a break. You woke up at around 11 am and went down to the hotel lounge to spend some time reading. Oscar was about to go to the hotel restaurant but stopped when he saw you.

"What are you reading?" You looked up behind you when you heard a voice and saw Oscar in casual clothes.

"Nothing. Just something to pass the time." You replied as Oscar takes up the couch beside you. "Are you about to have lunch?"

"Yeah. Just waiting for Lando." said Oscar, keeping his eyes on you. Oscar paused for a moment, contemplating on continuing his train of thought. "I'm curious so I'm just gonna ask it now."

"What?" you ask, closing your book.

"Why are you hiding that you are an Omega?"

Next part: Part 2

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

I'm looking at the forecast for JOKER: FOLIE A DEUX, and I also saw how low the attendance was at my cinema job yesterday, and... It got me thinking again about where big comic book/superhero movies are at in the post-COVID outbreak world...

And how JOKER 2 - along with films like QUANTUMANIA, SHAZAM 2, THE MARVELS, and THE FLASH - sorta fit a weird group of pictures that probably would've made boffo bucks in 2019 but not now. Backwash, you could say, from a bygone era that's only like five years ago...

Meanwhile, we saw the recent successes of GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 3 and ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, superhero movies that were more than just your usual garden variety superhero movie. They had some kind of vision or passion or spunk behind them. DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE is, I feel, the anomaly to this, as I felt it to be a fairly vision-less movie. Just a big budget parade of your favorite characters and action bits and lots of cameos, but done well enough with a sense of fun that kept audiences coming back after it made over $211m on its domestic opening weekend. I certainly had a fun time with it, but I wouldn't say it's anything other than "here's some fan favorites and some bloody action."

And then smack-dab in the middle of all this is MADAME WEB, which by all accounts was hacked to pieces in post-production much like how MORBIUS was. A film that could've stood out amongst the superhero pack as a period piece (2003 as a period piece, that's frightening to me lol), but ended up being molded into your usual schlop with lots of noticeable ADR.

Then you have two other Sony Spider-Man-adjacent movies this year, out within two months of one another. VENOM: THE LAST DANCE, out in a few weeks from now, should do good business because of the campy buddy comedy appeal of these particular movies. KRAVEN THE HUNTER, which was delayed multiple times, I have no idea. That might get a little lost in the Christmas season feeding frenzy. I have no idea how much further these Sony movies will go, outside of the VENOM movies. Remember how they wanted to do an EL MUERTO movie and then it got canned?

It seems like it's all a slow, prolonged sea change in comic book movies. I think they'll still get made, but something will have to change... as even a sequel to JOKER - which prided itself on resembling a '70s/'80s New Hollywood Scorsese-esque project - isn't cutting it. The idea of the new one being like a classic musical and a courtroom drama sounds really cool on paper, but in 2024, it's just not enough. The first one seems to be of a specific time, and belongs only to that time, it could be argued. A Trump-era slog about a "misunderstood" lonely guy who eventually ends up killing people, that devolves into a cacophony of violence... Its most controversial aspects were outside of the movie itself. I remember all the pre-release worry about the film possibly being a rallying cry to shooters... It came out and nothing happened, but it got tons of people to flock to the movie. It just hit at the right time, the noise around it created an appeal of sorts. It being this R-rated gritty street level movie and not your usual comic book movie.

But in 2024, now it's just "Eh, a new JOKER movie?" Add in the extreme genre shift, and a chunk of the audience was alienated.

Next year... CAPTAIN AMERICA 4... Looks - to me - like the most anticipated movie of 2015, honestly. THUNDERBOLTS* also looks too little, too late and also kinda just... There... James Gunn's SUPERMAN could really go either way, it could pull a MAN OF STEEL, or it could really break out. Maybe a BATMAN BEGINS-esque performance is in the cards here, where it opens kinda okayish because of a general fatigue w/ constant superhero movies (not to mention Henry Cavill's Kal-El not being that far behind) but has great legs. FANTASTIC FOUR Again, maybe this new take does the same? Maybe it's just more MCU fluff that gets a handful of fans on opening weekend and just fades away afterwards. There's an untitled Sony Spider-Man adjacent movie set for summer 2025 as well, but I wouldn't be surprised if that gets nerfed from the schedule. By now I think we'd know what it is, unless it's some kind of surprise project. Still, you'd know about it because it'd be filming or wrapped up by now. Speaking of which, BLADE is definitely not out next year, I'm surprised Disney and Marvel haven't changed its release or removed it from the calendar. We'll have to see where it all goes...

Ya know what comic book movie sticks out among all these 2025 entries?

DOG MAN!

Which I expect to be a respectable success for DreamWorks, come this winter. Its animation and visuals were outsourced to Jellyfish, much in the same way CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS was to Mikros. Jellyfish got SPIRIT UNTAMED out for $30m, I'd imagine this didn't cost anything more than that. Plus it's well after SPIRIT's timeframe, which was when vaccines were still rolling out, and this new movie is based on the Dav Pilkey CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS universe so it should do pretty okay. But to me, this is probably the most distinct CBM of next year, in a sea of big budget spectacle. A little cartoon movie about half man/half dog from a comic book written by fictional children that plays out in the way a comic drawn up by a kid would.

Leave it to animation to save the day here, lol. We need something to hold us over in comic book movies until BEYOND THE SPIDER-VERSE, whenever they decide to release that.

2026 is home to what looks like the usual array of late 2010s CBM backwash... AVENGERS: DOOMSDAY with Robert Downey Jr. returning to the MCU, possibly a fourth Tom Holland Spider-Man movie, two other untitled MCU movies (BLADE will likely take one of those slots)

There's also Gunn/Safran-verse DC's SUPERGIRL, but we gotta see what SUPERMAN looks like, first, before I can say whether their new DC shared universe feels like it belongs in the past decade or not...

You also have another animated entry with the MUTANT MAYHEM sequel, the first one - from last year - being a great and fresh new spin on the TMNT property. And THE BATMAN - PART II, the first one got a very strong response back in 2022. I would say THE BATMAN and MUTANT MAYHEM are of this new post-ENDGAME superhero movie era, the first SPIDER-VERSE arguably kicked that off in late 2018 before ENDGAME was released.

Again, it's a real "we'll have to see". Tracking this stuff can be fascinating for me.

[ambrosialdesire]

God it’s my favourite thing when an author just builds their AUs by answering a bunch of discrete little asks cacoethes Reiner is on ‼️ my ‼️ mind‼️ 24/7‼️

Would Reiner control readers social groups? What would happen if reader cheated on him would he go apeshit or just do the good ol baby trap

AW TYSM FOR YOUR SUPPORT ANON 🥰🥰 i just love talking about cacoëthes, it’s my absolute bread and butter (and probably the first series that i finished in the ~10+ years i've been writing lol)

reiner definitely controls reader's social groups when he can. before bonding with porco, she was only really allowed to speak with the warriors and his family. anyone else either doesn't pay any mind to her or was too afraid of her (since she originated from paradis and is well-known to be married to the armored titan holder), but very select few like the fisherman that helped her can hold a conversation with her and ignore the status she has. tbh reiner really can't control who she talks to since he's out and about a lot but i think in another ask, i've mentioned that he hired some people to keep watch of her if she's doing anything suspicious or behind his back but they don't really keep complete watch on her bc wtf else is a housewife gonna do (this is literally their undoing bc she got away with a lot before the escape attempt happened 💀💀).

but like after the whole porco shit and the escaping, he never leaves her side and literally goes with her everywhere. groceries, shopping, even a simple stroll to stretch her legs, he's coming with her. conversations with any stranger are cut short and if the warriors are nearby, they'll only get a brief hello and a wave from them. reiner's so smothering that it's even more unbearable and reader never gets the chance for some peace until he leaves for more fighting. BUTTTT when he leaves and the house becomes all quiet, reader can't admit it aloud but she started hating the silence and starts missing his presence, as clingy as he is hehe

I LITERALLLLLYYYYY HAD THIS IDEA BACK WHEN I STARTED THE 2ND PART OF CACOETHES AND WHEN I WAS WRITING THE PORCO PARTS ABOUT LIKE A DIVERGENCE OF THE PLOT WHERE IT'S PORCO'S POV AND HE AND READER GET TOGETHER BEHIND REINER'S BACK. i kinda did wanted to originally add an implication that reader was sleeping with porco but since i was trying to go about this by how the characters were in the actual plot of aot (even tho when i started this blog and posted the first part, i hadn't watched the series since like 2013-2014 so i was extremely rusty when i came back to it), i felt like porco would never try sleeping with his vice captain's wife; maybe he would cause he'd prolly do it out of spite or get on reiner's nerves or has this cocky attitude about being able to get away with it, something to that extent. however, i think he's too prideful to be sleeping with an "island devil" he kinda likes and sorta has a slight amount of respect towards reiner (just bc he's a higher rank and that's about it).

i'm still going to actually make a fic about that plot eventually so everyone can see how reiner acts like in a jealous rage (i also sorta talked about it in a kink ask with the blog's most frequent asking anon, bow anon ( aka 🎀 anon (shoutout to you, you absolute horndog 🫶) if you look around in my answered posts or the love-message tag), and i have another request that's in the works about reiner's jealousy in more detail).

i heavily enjoy talking about cacoëthes and like you said, building upon its silly little fic-verse. sorry to my other fics due to my outspoken favoritism 😭😭 now that i think about it, out of all of them, bounded/boundless and cacoëthes gets asks the most and down boy, down and inamorato gets the least lmfao

[hypermania]

Have you watched the other walking dead spin offs and which ones are worth watching?

i've seen at least an episode of all of them i think and i have thoughts!

fear the walking dead: i watched at least the first season when it was airing, maybe part of the second, but i never really got invested. i just didn't care about the characters. i've been told that there's a huge tonal shift when morgan shows up though so it might be worth powering through. plus, dwight eventually shows up over there and he's one of my favorite characters in the entire 'verse so i should probably give it another shot. but it's basically just the walking dead in california/mexico and with less interesting characters (at least in the beginning).

dead city: i watched the first episode just because i was curious how they were going to justify maggie teaming up with negan and they do justify it but it's very contrived. i had no interest in continuing to watch it because i loathe negan and think he's the worst thing to happen to the entire walking dead universe but if you feel differently, it might be worth it? visually, it seemed very comic book-y in a way that annoyed me but that might be appealing to other people.

daryl dixon: i watched all of the first season minus the last episode (i just couldn't find a link for it and by the time one became available i'd already read a synopsis and seen clips of the parts i'd want to see anyway). i thought it was fine but unnecessary? i know the caryl fandom at large hates it but i don't really agree with their assessment. i think they're letting the bts drama influence their feelings about the content of the actual show.

it wasn't as ridiculous as i was expecting. more than anything i was just like "okay why are we doing this??" it doesn't tell me anything new about daryl. it (so far) hasn't developed the relationship between daryl and carol (platonically or romantically). it just introduces a new world of characters that are fine but that i ultimately don't care about. i've talked about it before but i think one of the problems with the latter seasons of the walking dead is that they introduced way too many new characters and just expected me to care about them without ever taking the time to give me any reason to. the dary spin-off is basically just an extension of that. but i do think it's better storytelling than the last few seasons of the og show simply because it's following one fairly tight storyline instead of like seven.

the ones who live: this is the only one of the spin-offs so far that justifies its existence in my opinion. some of that is simply because of how rick and michonne were written out of the walking dead. of course we want to know what they've been up to and if they've found each other. but some of it is just that rick grimes is the walking dead. there's a gravitas to andrew lincoln's performance that makes whatever's happening on screen feel more immediate, more threatening, more.... important? and when you add in the chemistry between andrew and danai, it's fucking magic. i don't care about the crm or what's going to happen with it at all, but every time an episode ends, i want to watch the next one right now!!!!!! because i want to see what rick and michonne will do next. it's rick and michonne!!!!

anyway, all of this to say that i think if you like the og walking dead, it's probably worth giving any/all of these a shot just to see which ones, if any, vibe for you. it's not like you have to keep watching if you're not having fun. i think the ones who live is far and away the best but i'm very clearly biased about that haha

[teeelsie-posts]

My fave of your fics is What Doesn't Kill You. Would love to hear your comments on that one!

Director's Cut commentary about What Doesn't Kill You:

What Doesn’t Kill You was my first MCU fic, so it’s kind of special to me.  Yeah, I know it starts with a brutal gang rape, so I guess that sounds kinda weird.

After I saw CA:CW, just literally, out of the blue, I got this 2-second snip in my head of Clint bent face down over a desk, struggling as his arms are being held down and outstretched.  That was it, just this flash of a scene with nothing else really along with it, but I COULD NOT let go of it.

I lasted about a week until I had to take that scene and develop it to something more in order to get it out of my head. Up until then, I’d been lurking in the fandom since AoU and there were soooo many accomplished writers out there who had already been producing great stuff for years. It was very intimidating to write and post in the fandom. I felt like such an interloper.

Eventually, that flash of a scene resolved itself into chapter 1 of the fic--the rape scene.  Now look, non-con is not a genre I would say that I write in. I’m not criticizing it—I’ve read some very, very good fic that involve dub-con or non-con.  But, I’d never addressed it before in my own fic and if you’d have asked me, I would have said, nah, not interested, just not my thing (I probably would still say that).  But, man, I could not shake that image and when more of a fic started to form in my head and take hold, suddenly I was writing a really, very graphic non-con fic.

It made me kind of uncomfortable, if I’m honest, because it’s such a brutal thing and I was like, where is this coming from?  But I think the thing for me is this: for me, the non-con is simply the necessary event to highlight and demonstrate that Clint Barton is nothing if not a survivor.  He’s resilient.  (I think Phil says as much at some point in the fic) That’s what this fic is really about. The rape is just a means to an end.  And yes, I could have just had him get a beat-down (because you know I love my whump), but I really felt like the Raft—prison—is all about power differential, and rape is not so much as act of sex, but an act of power and violence, so in the context of the Raft, it just made sense.

The fic was originally just a one-shot—what is now chapter one—and I had no intent to write any more. dentalfloss betad that fic for me and after I posted, she said something like ‘I wish I could see the others’ reactions.’  Which got my wheels spinning anew.  It was tricky, because I’ve read more than one fic where it’s a one-shot from a  certain POV, and then maybe someone says exactly the same thing to the writer that dentalfloss said to me and so they write the other POV.  Sometimes the next parts are great, but it seemed like too often, it was just a repetition of the first part, sometimes word for word for long dialog stretches. So I knew if I was going to add more to the story, itneeded to BUILD on chapter 1 and not just repeat it.  I spent a few months plotting out and drafting chapters for most of the other Avengers, trying to weave their stories into Clint’s without being repetitive. I hope I was successful at that. If it worked the way I wanted, each chapter would reveal more little bits of the broader story without any one person’s story telling it all.  Ach, it’s hard to explain. In the end, I was satisfied with how it turned out.

And then, because I was talking to dentalfloss, and had been reading In Wade We Trust, Wade Wilson popped up in my head and said, me me pic me, and waved his arm around and I sat down and drafted a chapter with him in about 30 minutes because it was all JUST RIGHT THERE and I couldn’t not. Thankfully, floss gave me permission to use “her Wade”, but his appearance in this fic should not be construed as being part of her Wade ‘verse.

If I hadn’t added the other chapters, this would be a very different fic (obviously).  For me, though, this fic is no longer a rape fic—it truly metamorphosized into a recovery fic. Like, when I think about that first chapter now, I’m kind of hand-wavy, yeah, yeah, but that’s not the point!  The point is what comes AFTER.  Honestly, I think if non-con turns you off, you could literally skip chapter 1 and move on to the rest with just the background understanding that this thing happened to Clint, and the rest of it is really the important part.

Finally, I really love Phil in this fic. This was some of my favorite Phil writing (by me), for sure.  I got his voice pretty much just how I wanted it, and there are a couple scenes between him and Clint that are high up on the list of my favorites I ever wrote.

So this fic started as a bit of an earworm that I had to put on paper in order to get it out of my head, and it became something else entirely, unexpectedly becoming much more a story about survival and resilience.

Thanks for the ask, @ryuunoyuki

Fanfic Writers's Director's Cut ask game.

[notebookmusical]

Hi! I'm sorry you're still not feeling well. It seems like it really sucks I hope you were still able to have a good and fun weekend with your friend though! I hope the new medication helped as well but from your latest update, it seems like it didn't. Aww I really hope you feel better before your birthday and the holidays coming up. I've never had black forest cake I don't think..or is that the one with cherry filling in the middle? If it is, then I have and I think it's yummy too. I do love Oreo cake, vanilla, and just plain chocolate or double chocolate. But I have a lot of favorite desserts too..but it's mostly brownies and cookies. I like chocolate chip and double chocolate and ice cream but I don't love it when it's cold. I've never had tiramisu I don't think though.

I want need to be released too but mostly just cuz all of the girls was already released so I hope it is and it is like False God. I think cuz it sounds so different from any Taylor song to me. When I first heard it, I think it sounded more like a Selena Gomez song..maybe in the verses more than Taylor..but I do love how Taylor shows her vocals in the song and I do know other people love it a lot. The only thing about that is then it would be technically the last rerecording to be released and idk if it should end with that but I do see how it kinda works. Unless she puts out an eras rerecording doc or something as a thank you for the tour, then it would be the next best thing. I do still like to play it around Christmas sometimes. She also has a show on her birthday next year so that's exciting enough too.

Haha wow. I actually listen to something new like everyday so I could never get burnt out on new music haha. Basically my sister has a long drive everyday so we pick a new album to listen to everyday and kinda have a theme for each week based on genres. That's how I discover so much new music and we add a few songs to a big hours long playlist all year and play it near the end of the year haha and then we will pick our favorites. Obviously if it's an artist I really like, I play their albums for at least a week. I also play a lot of recommended radio so that's how I find new artists too. So what's your top artists and songs for Spotify wrapped since it came out? I think there's an equivalent with apple music if you use that. But I'm so excited to know and I will add anything you recommend to my list. I wasn't really surprised..obviously Taylor was my top artist lol but I feel like it also matters how long an album is and for top songs it's how much a certain song will play on your recommended radio and if you let it play. Oh I forgot about those but will listen eventually of course..along with the fruitcake EP soon.

As for books, I'll have to work on my list and I can tell you what I'll be reading more specifically later. Sorry it's just not something I'm focused on right now but I did find a few more books to add to my list recently so idk and I'm always looking for new recommendations too so I'll look at your post whenever its updated. Oh that's so cool and exciting. I've recently getting more educated on the publishing world which sounds exhausting so that's actually pretty cool. I honestly haven't read Hunger Games in a long time but that sounds like a pretty good plan if you get to it.

Oh I like her music but I'm not sure she would fit as Eurydice..cuz her voice is too soft almost? Thanks for the link! I will go thru it later and give my full opinion. Oh I mentioned a doc about the rerecordings earlier but would absolutely love this too! Beyonce had a little bit of this in her movie which I thought was really cool and made it different than eras. She would talk for a few minutes about something that would kinda lead into the next song so the transitions were pretty smooth and didn't distract from the show. Also it's always very cool to see her talking and share stuff from her personal life which we don't get to see as much. I'm pretty sure she didn't cut anything either which was impressive! I couldn't help comparing it to Eras but more so in a fun way cuz I love both of them and you can really see how much artistry and care they put in the work and that's a really cool thing to see. Taylor also supported Beyonce at her premiere just like how Beyonce did for her and I loved her dress so much..it was really on theme haha. I also paid attention to the sets and it's something I have to pay more attention to in the eras movie again. Another cool thing Beyonce's movie did was show all the different outfits she would wear for a certain song and I kinda wish eras movie did that now lol. Also Beyonce showed all her special guest performances in her movie too. It was kinda cool cuz it was almost set up in eras too but in a different way I guess cuz it wasn't by era..but she did start from the beginning of her career and mixed in a few songs. Also her opening songs started out slower in the show but I think that's pretty typical of Beyonce..like she gets more energetic as the show goes on. She also did not sing a song from every album..there was nothing from Lemonade but that's also a personal album for her or maybe didn't fit this show. But she sang every song from Renaissance and somehow made them work in the order of the album...and she even included the performance of songs she only sang at a few shows. I think seeing it was fun too cuz I didn't know the full show as well as eras even if I saw a few clips online and having it professionally recorded helps a lot too. Even if you don't love her music, it's definitely worth a watch at some point.

I do think it was cool of her to sing it for the end of the year and cuz there's a bit of a break on tour and I agree with how it makes her feel. I just think the chorus could be better cuz she repeats the same lyrics or used thing more than once and I don't love the melody but some people love it. Its just there to me and some songs are just like that I guess. I feel similarly about Illicit Affairs but I like it on tour and maybe even Off the top of my head, the first two opening nights had the best songs! Mirrorball and Tim McGraw and State of Grace and This is me trying but i would probably pick night two. Another one would be the eras movie pick or I Can See You and I think Maroon? Also Getaway Car and Maroon! I got pretty lucky with Right where you Left Me and Castles Crumbling too!!! I liked yours too! What about you?

Aside from seeing the Renaissance movie, I also got a haircut after a long time which was nice. I will probably also be busy for the next few weeks just letting you know. The end of the year is always stressful to me so I'm sorry if I don't reply as much. I hope your weekend with your friend was still fun! Happy Monday and I hope you have a great week!!! 🩷

hi friend!! it was one of the best weekends ever, i think — just something that i very much needed + very good for my soul, but i am very tired and just quite sad now! long distance friendships are so so hard :( i've mostly been feeling a bit better aside from my voice which just does not want to return to me for some reason!! but that's okay — the good news, is that it gives me an excuse to not be super super social at the work party on wednesday (which i'm lowkey dreading haha).

and yes! black forest cake is the one with cherry in the middle — i don't really like cherry, but i do loveeee black forest cake for some reason! i am not a huge fan of super sweet sweets (and often, brownies are too sweet for my taste) but one of my friends has been talking to me about brownies all week and now i really really want one. i think i'm going to try to get one on wednesday when i go to my work party as a pre-party treat, actually! tiramisu is delicious — if you like coffee (i don't know if you do, actually — i don't think we've talked about coffee! do you like coffee? what's your coffee order?) which i do!

i would love love love more BTS for eras and the rerecordings! i just think all of that is so interesting, i want to know about the costumes + the thought behind the dive, the choreography, why the piano is painted with those flowers, why debut was cut from the setlist :(, whose idea it was for those very specific visuals, etc. i just want to know everything!

there is an apple music equivalent — it's called apple replay! my top 5 artists were: the 1975, taylor, holly humberstone, maisie, and sabrina carpenter — but replay also gives you your top 15, so here are the rest of them: inhaler, gracie abrams, the japanese house, noah kahan, beabadoobee, del water gap, olivia rodrigo, lizzy mcalpine, haim and charli xcx! and my most listened to songs are: oh caroline, happiness, if you're too shy (let me know), lost the breakup, body better, me & you together song, you're just a boy (and i'm kinda the man), the good witch, about you, i'm in love with you, pressure, menswear, scarlett, heart out and the sound! which is so funny because i don't even remember listening to a good half of these that much (probably in the first half of the year). my most listened to albums were: the good witch, emails i can't send fwd, notes on a conditional form, the good witch (deluxe), speak now (taylor's version), paint my bedroom black, reputation, barbie the album, the 1975 (deluxe), guts, cuts & bruises, i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it, good riddance, in the end it always does and midnights (3 am edition)!

and you don't need to apologize — just know i'm excited for your favorites when you have them! i will try to figure out my list as well! and ahhh, the renaissance film sounds so so good! i'm excited to watch it when i get a chance to 🤍

and yeah, i have a really hard time picturing her as eurydice! but i think she'd be a great girl in once, if she ever did that!

tied together with a smile was my favoriteeeee. it just means so much to me as a song, and i'm so so glad i got to hear it! honestly i really lucked out with my songs — and i think everyone that i went with was really happy (my friend bailey loves ttwas too, my friend mansi got a reputation song night 1 — this is why we can't have nice things, etc.)! just very special! very lovely evening. i'd loveeee to hear mirrorball, or anything debut though. i'm really just manifesting something from debut for my mom :")

and no worries about replying either!! 🤍 take your time, i know you're busy + things are goin on! happy monday + hope you have a good rest of the year friend!!

[goboymusic]

I’m releasing vocal tracks of GoBoy songs over the next few weeks. Anyone can use the vocal tracks commercially in their own music without my permission as long as they add GoBoy as a featured artist.

The song title “Leave the Gun, Take the #Cannoli” is taken from one of the most famous lines from The #Godfather (1972 film), a film that everyone should have on their watch list. It’s also the only reason many of us know about cannoli.

This song was an attempt to sing again after dealing with the personal disaster that was "Throwback (Song 23),” which ultimately resulted in a seven-year musical hiatus (more on that in post 23). I was so insecure about my vocals that I added a plug-in that lowered the formant of the vocal tracks in this song, thus making them a little less recognizable.

The chorus was inspired by @Deadmau5, and the verses were inspired by #metalcore music (a genre that consumed my life in high school).

I remember my older sister stumbling upon this song on a burned CD that was left in a family car, and she left me a voicemail afterwards saying something like “is this song made by you? It’s surprisingly good, and you should probably try to sell it,” a compliment that’s uncharacteristic of her. It’s moments like that that confirm I’m not a complete lunatic for producing music, and that I’m actually pretty okay at it.

The chorus of “Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli” is stellar, but the dubstep breakdown is kinda meh. Inversely, the dubstep breakdown in “Meet Spartacus” is stellar, but the rest of the song is kinda meh. I wish I had combined the dubstep breakdown in “Meet Spartacus” with the chorus in “Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli” to create a superior song, but that idea wouldn’t arise until years after both songs were released, and after I had lost the Logic Pro files for both of them.

The chorus melodies were eventually reused for "Listen Closely (Song 46).” I always liked the back and forth between the synth melody and vocal melody in the chorus, but always felt they weren't utilized well enough. "Listen Closely" really focuses on those melodies in a way that "Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli" doesn’t.

At the time of making ”Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli,” the #metalcore genre was an enormous passion of mine. That said, the politics of forming and maintaining a metalcore band was something that I had experienced in the past, and I didn’t want to experience it again, especially after the fallout from the N3RD live band (explained in post 15). Rather than recruiting a drummer and guitarist for the metalcore inspired breakdowns in “Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli,” the manipulation of an electronic beat and dubstep wobble bass seemed like a more optimal route, as it would only require computer / DJ equipment for live shows, thus allowing me to maintain independence and creative freedom. This idea of using wobble bass instead of guitars for metalcore-esque breakdowns would be utilized for ”Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli,” along with other songs on GoBoy 1 and 2 (excerpts from post 18).

The wobble bass was created by automating rapid changes in the formant of a techno synth.

Regarding the change from pop music to mostly instrumental music in GoBoy 2: “Throwback (Song 23)” (and it’s music video) enraged my relatives, whom I grew up in a neighborhood with, and who had tremendous influence over my life at the time (explained in post 23). A frenzy of angry emails, metaphorical pitchforks, torches, hulk rage. Being a young, neurotic kid, the backlash from them was too much for me to handle at the time, and to exit their spotlight, I halted further production of pop songs and ultimately pulled the music video and songs 1-23 (GoBoy 1) from the internet (excerpts from post 23).

To the creative kids who find themselves surrounded by people who want to halt or control their creative endeavors, best of luck. I want to say “find a way out,” but that might result in further deterioration of your creative output. If you were born into an environment where you’re free to explore your creativity without constraints, you’ll never know how lucky you are (excerpts from post 23).

After the “Throwback” debacle, focus would be shifted towards creating instrumental songs that would fly under the radar (GoBoy 2, songs 24-35). Fly under the radar they did. Following GoBoy 2, I quit music for seven years. Songs 1-23 wouldn't be reuploaded until 2020. Why does this matter? It doesn't (excerpts from post 23).

[carelessgraces]

some quick verse additions —

ACTRESS What’s meant to be a brief engagement with her high school drama club becomes a career path. Astoria pursues acting, training at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. For a time her career is kept solely to the stage, until her portrayal of Ophelia (who Astoria plays as violent, struggling, and increasingly loud) garners international attention. Astoria becomes known for her period roles (her performance as Estella Havisham in a BBC adaptation of Great Expectations marks the beginning of a legacy), before branching out to science fiction and high fantasy and, surprising everyone, a few years on an American soap opera. Her career is largely defined by her portrayals of villainous women, and her public image is carefully curated to keep her out of trouble.

EARLY MODERN EUROPE The illegitimate daughter of an English nobleman and his Venetian lover, Astoria is raised by her mother and grandparents in Venice, and educated in the humanist tradition. The circumstances of her birth are not likely to make for a good marriage, and so Astoria learns to rely on her quick wit and silver tongue, as well as her beauty, to secure her place in the world, often as a lady in a royal court. Compatible with The Royal Masquerade, Medici, The Borgias, The Tudors, Reign, etc, as well as a general historical verse. Location subject to change based on the needs of the thread or plot.

BLACK SAILS With the unexpected death of her husband at sea, only a few years after their marriage and before they could produce an heir, Doña Astoria Vega inherits his wealth, his lands, and his business. It’s sheer chance that brings her face-to-face with the pirates that have been targeting her ships, but it’s her cleverness that keeps her alive, and her unexpected friendship with Captain James Flint that inspires a change in her business practices moving forward. Built alongside @seascourge‘s Flint, who will be a part of Astoria’s history in any threads in this verse. Under construction as I continue watching.

MERLIN The city-state of Seleny, well to the south, is known for its wine, its trade, and its princess. Likely to take the throne when her grandfather, the current merchant prince, dies, Astoria travels to Camelot in the hopes of visiting family and working to establish a trade alliance with Uther. While it’s her family and her duty that bring her to Camelot in the first place, it’s her growing affection for, and loyalty to, Prince Arthur that keeps her there. Under construction as I continue watching.

SUPERNATURAL As an amateur historian, and an ambitious and hardworking woman carrying on the family business, Astoria Grimani works with her aunt at their shop in Boston, Second Son’s Antiquities. As a psychic from a long family history of witchcraft and with a penchant for theivery, Astoria travels throughout the country, sometimes under the pseudonym Elizabeth Grey, obtaining and selling magical artifacts for a select clientele of hunters and collectors. While she will occasionally work with the local diocese on cases of suspected exorcism, or help clear out a haunting at a client’s request, Astoria prefers to leave the dirty work to the professionals. (It’s rumored that she has more magic than she lets on, that she can do more than access the future or manipulate perceptions, but if that’s true, she’s not telling.)

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[boy-subtraction]

layers!! details!! the foundations, if you will!!!

i wanna talk about the way Foundations is written, because looking at it closely there are a lot of layers. i love the way gerard writes!! it's so much fun to dig into, there's so much rich detail and worldbuilding. this is gonna be one of a few posts i think because i have WAY too much to say about this song, so stay tuned if u feel so inclined.

ok lets go!

the first sort of frame we have is in the 3rd person:

the narrator is talking about "the man" here, whose identity is revealed in the second verse:

this verse details the conception of the band and its origins, but more about that in a later post prolly. the "he" is gerard!

there's also some 1st and 2nd person narration going on in the choruses:

so, we have these 3 different frames of narration going on. who's the "our" though? in the second verse, we get 1st person narration again:

so, because the 2nd verse focuses on the origins and eventual end of mcr, it's implied that the "we" and "our" of this song refers to mcr as a whole.

so then, what's up with the "you"? the narrator of the song is talking to someone. back to that in a second though, i have to set up some other stuff first.

I want to know who the narrator is. the song starts out with this vignette of gerard, as described by the narrator. the narrator seems to know a lot about him, telling us what he dreams of ("all the battles won") and just basically what's going through his head.

to me, this implies the narrator is also gerard (which makes sense, because he wrote the song, at least in part), looking at another version of himself.

back to that "you". throughout the song, you have these different voices talking to each other. specifically in the bridge, we can see this really clearly. it becomes more apparent when you listen to the song because different vocal effects are applied to either part.

(note: not particularly relevant here, but i believe that the first line is "against faith (antihero)" as sung live, correct me if i'm wrong)

earlier in the song though, we can really see this conversation taking shape:

the transition from "he was there" to "and we would all build towers of our own" is like Narrator Gerard is looking at gerard ("standing on the hill" as it were) and talking about his experiences, and then Hill Gerard jumps in to add to the story!! and then it switches again, only this time Narrator Gerard is talking directly to Hill Gerard!! he is having!! a conversation with himself!!

Ok this is getting really really long but there's one more thing i want to place emphasis on in terms of the framing of Foundations.

there are a few changes in tense along with the changes in pronouns. The song starts off in the present tense:

Narrator Gerard describes Hill Gerard in the present tense, which means their conversation also takes place in the present tense, but the third line begins to hint that they'll go deeper into the past. "Had" is the transitional word here, switching from present to past tense.

In the verses of the song, it's like these two versions of gerard are looking back on the band, how it began and ended, and they're just reminiscing. they're reflecting together on "the battles [gerard] has won" and the ones they and the band lost.

This changes in the pre-chorus, chorus and bridge though, with a more critical tone being taken, but more of that in a different post. my brain is melting.

So, to recap:

There are three distinct frames in this song

the first is Narrator Gerard, talking about Hill Gerard, and by extension the rest of the band

the second is Hill Gerard, talking about himself and the band to Narrator Gerard

The third is Narrator Gerard responding to Hill Gerard

This song is one of reflection on the past, and one of moving forward. More to be written on that.

Holy shit if u made it through this entire fucking post you deserve an award or some shit. my sincerest apologies.

[bibliocratic]

litany An exploration on endings. Or: all the ways it could have gone wrong and right.

jonmartin, spoilers for 200, content warnings in the tags

--

This is not what she thought victory would feel like.

Basira’s fingers tense and smart with overexerted aching when she stops to stretch them out. There is a geography of broken blood-vessels under the bruising that lies puddle-splotched over her hands which scrabble and claw talon-bent at the rubble. They are scored with scratches and tears where her exposed and dust-ruined skin has snagged on fractured brickwork.

She uncovers a foot first, as she pushes up and over the twisted mental of a window frame with an exhausted clatter. A trainer, the white doused with mud, the trailing laces caked stiff and russet. More heaving and hauling, her breath purging from her faster now – maybe, maybe, maybe, but she has lived too long now to believe in miracles. Overturning a fire-blasted section of what could have been once part of the imperious and grand stone stairwell, she reveals the leg the trainer is attached to, pulverised and off-angled by the weight of the collapse, the fabric of it drenched in soot. She peels back a cascade of plasterboard with a grunt, and there is a twisted pelvis, shattered ribs caved in under an acrid-smelling jumper. She’s not surprised at the dull punch of revelation, when she digs out hunched shoulders, coils of hair turned grey-white like swans’ down with the dust.

Martin is obviously dead. She hopes it was quick, fears it was not. His body lying stringless is curved around something, clutching it to him with his bruised and broken fingers. It takes many minutes of labouring, her spine seizing with complaint, sweat pooling at her brow and under her arms, but eventually she reveals Martin’s tender quarry, bundled up against his chest, blood-soaked from a wound long congealed. His own long and bloody fingers clenched and moored into the weft of Martin’s jumper.

She doesn’t need to check his pulse. She is cursed with enough sentiment to do so anyway. Crouching for a moment in the thick of the settling devastation, the fug of dust coating her nostrils, before she murmurs ‘I’m sorry’.

As she stands, she takes off her coat to lay it over them respectfully, the only shroud she can offer.

When her voice is composed, its cracks flattened out, she shouts the others over to tell them to stop searching.

--

The knife does not go in easily. There is force behind its thrust, a manic wave-shock of hysteric intent, and Jon’s lips part in a gasp as skin and sinew and flesh split. The noise wrenched from Martin is soiled with ruin, tremulous and saw-toothed, and he will never be able to forgive himself.

Jon’s eyes close. Peace of a sort granted to Magnus’ last and most beleaguered of Archivists.

And then they open. All of them, like the unfolding back of petals during blossoming, a meadow’s expanse of sight flowering on his face.

“No,” Martin whispers, the refusal almost lost over the tumult of the building around them. He pulls the knife out, and it drips onto the floor, making damp the material of his trousers. “No, nononononono.”

The wound presses together like lips, and then it is gone.

“I think it’s too late for that, Martin,” the Archivist says in that calm and reasoned voice of his.

--

It is a surreal, poorly-rendered mirror of before. A way the record of the world has slipped, juddered aground in a repeat. For all they have both changed, outgrown the casings of the people they were, for all they have endured both together and apart, it is a sick homecoming of sorts to stand again a second time round at the entrance to his hospital ward.

She’s brought supermarket flowers bunched in plastic, the last of a bad crop and too late to get the freshest, the stalks of baby’s breath drooping, the petals on the carnations mottled slightly and past their glory days. Jon lies submerged in sleep, the focal point in a placid storm of machines and wires. This coma chemically induced with no inkling of the supernatural, a last-ditch effort by the doctors to reduce the swelling on his brain. To give the body a chance to heal from the damage sustained during the collapse, his frame bludgeoned and punctured like a shrike-caught mouse, the smoke that has snarled like brambles in his lungs. The almost comically neat wound punched into his chest, nicking his heart.

She hopes his sleep is dreamless.

It takes him weeks to wake up.

“… Georgie?” he finally gasps out on an otherwise uneventful Thursday. His vocals are ribbed and scored with smoke damage. He’s sluggish as he blinks and turns and groans at the complaint of his body around him. “What – er?”

“Hey Jon,” she replies. “Good to have you back with us.”

She lets him acclimatise. Without his glasses, he squints and peers owlishly, like an inquisitive bird, absorbed by the novelty of his environment, the mundanity; the hospital-blue curtain that’s been pulled back around his bed, missing a few rungs and so hanging lopsided in places. The wilting flowers on the side table. The IV needles threaded into his arms.

“Did it work?” he asks finally.

“We think so.”

Georgie doesn’t add more. The conversation is one she knew they’d have, but it still feels like stepping out on frozen water. She is waiting for it to give beneath him, for the drop and drown in the unmoored cold.

His relief muddies in increments. His brow crinkling with a frown, glancing around again at the other beds. Their occupants dredged up and out and recovering from their private terrors, bringing the lessons of their landscape with them.

“Where - ?”

He looks up at her. The ice cracking.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Jon,” she says.

--

“We made it. L-look, see, we’re – I don’t know where we are exactly, b-but that doesn’t matter, does it, because we’re together, yeah? We’re together and that’s… that’s what we promised.”

The blood is drying on his trembling fingertips, the crevices of his palm, and it flakes off like decaying leaf-fall. The front of his clothes is clogged and sodden, the slick slow to harden. The weight in his arms is making his shoulders scream but he can’t let go.

“We – we did it,” he repeats hollowly. Desperately. “We did it, s-so you can come back now. You can come back. Together, you promised.”

The winds of this new world blow as cold as the old one did, and it is Martin’s only reply.

--

“It’s for the best, Martin,” the Archivist says.

“Shut up,” his furious watcher snarls. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t play st – Like him! Like he would! Using his voice.”

“It’s my voice. It’s me, Martin.”

Martin doesn’t respond to that. Their arguments are cyclical as roundabouts. He tells Martin he loves him. Martin tells him to fuck off.

The place where Jonah Magnus met his End, crumpled up on the dais of the Panopticon, has been cleared of blood. It distressed Martin to look upon, as evidence of his ascension rather than his capacity for brutality, so the servitors saw to its removal. The body he gifted to the mulch of the bone gardens, and the wailing growths flourished beautifully with the nutrients it bore.

The screams beyond the walls of the Panopticon cut off faster as he hastens them towards the End. He observes a world in its twilight. There is still torment, and it is unendurable and unfair but it will end under his reign, for good and for ever, and he will ensure that there is no more.

“You don’t have to stay,” the Archivist says. Considered. Gentle. “I know… seeing me like this is not what you wanted. I want us to be together while it ends, but I won’t force you.”

“And how is it any better out there?”

“It’s not,” he admits. “Here, I can keep you safe. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy.”

“Well, you fucked up there then,” Martin snaps.

His anger is righteous and flint-spark, makes barriers that almost waylay his grieving. He looks at him, and for a moment, his gaze shakes. He will see nothing less than he expects to see, a man, unkempt from travel, a bit grubby. Coarse hands he has held, lines he has attempted to smooth. In many ways, this makes it worse.

Martin turns away, and the Archivist lets him go.

He needs time and they have more than enough of it now.

--

He is inconsolable when they dig them out. A horrible, anguished keening like he’s being struck, a gasping that violently gags and stoppers in his chest. His face twisted, blotching, his eyes swollen, and the picture he makes is ugly, rent-open, decimated, bawling into the body he’s crushed up against him. Rag-doll limbed. Ashen.

They can’t make him let go. His cries transform and degrade into wails, garbled wordless, the horizon of language lost. They aren’t even sure if he knows they’re there. The sound pouring out of him is frenzied, delirious and anguished by surviving the unsurvivable alone. He fades hoarse through the ruin he has made of his throat and then he just weeps into Jon’s chest, and still he will not let go.

Melanie’s the one that stops him using the knife the first time. Wrestling it from his grip more out of surprise than shock at Georgie’s shout, and her anger is poisoned with her panic, throwing it to one side and hearing it clatter, snarling that I’m not going to fucking bury both of you, you hear me, don’t even think about it, fuck you, you think this is what he would have wanted, you think we want to lose you too?

Martin doesn’t reply.

They are not fast enough to stop him the second time he tries.

--

There are two men, strangers to these parts, who moved into the village from elsewhere like seeds caught on breeze. They plant their roots in uneasy soil. They talk to no one, versed in polite but guarded pleasantries, their greeting smiles to-the-point and weathered like coastal walls to withstand even the most inquisitive of questioners.

The one who is tall has the pared-down appearance of someone who has lost a lot of weight through some wasting that gnaws upon him. A gauntness that accentuates the furrows and gulleys and crags of his face, worsens the snow-stark white of his hair. The one who is short has been formed naturally sharp in features, although the brown of his eyes is mellow, prone to distance and otherwise unremarkable. The rumour mill, that tumbles in cycles of chatter that rolls from suspicious to musing, supposes some great and devastating fire to account for the injuries on his hands and the exposed skin of his face and neck, the pocked divots like scattered spark burns, ragged scars from shrapnel of some kind.

The one who is short limps on a sturdy walking stick, fashioned from an oak branch divorced from its tree in a storm. Any travel ventured upon is slow and demonstrably an effort. His free hand clasped in the hand of the one who is tall, who decks himself in layers even in the mildest of weathers, whose eyes are biting as hailstones, awashed grey and framed with bruising as though his dreams are rarely kind.

They re-painted the outer walls of their house last summer, when the temperature wallowed sticky and dense and glorious. The tree in their garden has fruited its first pears, few and stunted but a start that promises better crops come next year.

There is the hope that the strangers are happy.

If they are, it remains nobody’s business but their own.

[mikalara-dracula]

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

[ava-imagines]

Sorry for how long this is. I realize after I was done writing but I have to explain it. Hope you can do her even if you just did one. If not then it’s understandable. Like the others said keep up the great work.

How can I forgot about Sonia? Hmmm then again I didn’t see her for awhile until your post. On a side note thinking about Sonia got me thinking on how a good chunk of scientist we see in game are evil. So how about this sort of scenario for Sonia x Reader head cannons? The reader was apart of one of the evil teams. Though you know they loose, so the reader goes to the International Police to strike a deal. Information for protection. The ol witness protection shtick. You’re in Galar now with a new identity and settled in your new life with Sonia. The thing is you never talk about your past. This being all the more stranger to her as you’re well versed in all matters Pokémon but when trying to search you nothing pops up. Then one day you come back to find Sonia with a file you forgot to bring to Looker detailing some sketchy stuff. Saw this type of scenario done before but I wanted to add my own twist to the request.

Wow, interesting idea Anon!

Sonia x Ex Team Rocket Member! Reader: Your past..? 🧡📙

Back in the Kanto region, you used to be part of the Team Rocket organisation

You stole Pokèmon, kidnapped people and pretty much did anything to support Giovanni, your ex boss

However often in battles, you lost alot of times to kids that didn't agree with what you were doing, and it just made you bored of being on Team Rocket.

So one day, you decided to go down to the International Police Station to ditch your old life and to start anew

Eventually after a few weeks, you're now in Galar as an assistant for Sonia, the new professor for Galar

You were really happy to be out of your old life and to be in a new one. You liked playing with Pokèmon instead of kidnapping them, you liked socializing with the other people instead of being rude and most of all, you liked Sonia. Alot.

Sonia seemed to like you too, as you both would sometimes stay behind at the lab to chat and have a laugh

Sonia talked to you about her past alot, but when she asked about your past, you went quiet and didn't say anything about it. Slowly making her grow suspicious.

However, one day when you went home, you forgot to hide the files of your old life (The people back in Kanto said you had to carry that stuff around for some reason)

Sonia was just tidying some things up, until she saw a small corner of a file peek out from one of your drawers.

Curious, she opened the drawer and looked at the file. When she opened the file, her eyes widened. She was on the page about your old identity.

Sonia never knew you used to work for a criminal organisation like Team Rocket. But how? You seemed so nice.

Reading more into your files, she saw that despite getting money for it, you were growing sick of it, so you went to get an identity change

Sonia really didn't know how to feel about this, one part of her was mad that you used to be evil.

But the other part of her felt happy for you in a way? Happy like, she's glad you quit and found something else you enjoyed doing

Sonia decided she wouldn't tell you that she found the file, as she put it back where she found it

Nowadays when you're in the lab, Sonia still talks to you, but she stops mentioning your past. Now knowing the truth about the old you.

And done! Sorry if it's short but I hope you like it!

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 9

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff this time! Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: yes i really used some cliche scenes expected from a bucky fic but come on you have to, right?)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you thought you were scared before your first encounter with Bucky, your feelings as you got ready for this date were unbelievable. 

The pressure really felt on this time. 

In the anxiety of nervousness and self-doubt, you had bought a whole new outfit for this date. You stood in the mirror, checking yourself over as you adorned a lovely knee-length, flowy dress. It had little flowers decorated all over it. The fabric was soft and comfortable, easing worries just a bit more - if you felt good, all would go good, right? The entire thing was complimented by a new pair of flats. You even spent more time on your make-up, making sure everything was just right and accentuating all your features pleasantly. 

The more you did, the better you felt, until you realized there was no more to do. Once your hair was laid gently over your shoulder in a cascading braid, you had to face the fact that it was almost game time. Glancing over, your clock told you Bucky would be here any minute.

Still, back at the mirror, you couldn’t help yourself from fidgeting. You tweaked your braid, fixed the invisible wrinkles on your dress, even reconsidered your lipstick color choice… But then it happened. Your phone’s ringtone sang throughout your room, giving you a jumpscare. You had to take a deep breath before crossing the space and answering the call. Bucky’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hi, Bucky,” you said.

“Hi, doll,” Bucky responded, a little sing-songy tone in his voice. His cheeriness was practically contagious through the phone. Your heart fluttered. “I’m outside whenever you’re ready.”

“O-Okay,” you sputtered out, letting out a cough to cover it but it didn’t work well as Bucky let out a light chuckle at your nerves. You chose to ignore it and continued, “I’ll be down in a second.”

“Alright,” he said. “See you soon.” The line disconnected. You sighed, gripping your phone probably too tightly. Closing your eyes, you inhaled then exhaled, centering yourself, letting your pounding heart come down. 

One last look in the mirror and you realized that it was game time. There were no more preparations you could make. Your soulmate was waiting downstairs and off you went to get swept away.

Bucky wasn’t the only thing that greeted you when you exited the apartment building. He was standing by a taxi, one arm leaning against it like it was the world's most romantic chariot. A smile broke out on your lips as you approached him. 

“Good evening.”

Bucky gave a nod, “Good evening.”

He kept staring at you, taking you in fully and shamelessly. You blushed under his focused eyes and quickly looked away. Motioning towards the taxi, you said, “Is this our ride for the night?”

Now he was smiling as well. “Just to get us there.”

You hummed, interested. “Where is ‘there?’”

“Gotta get in the taxi and find out, sweetheart,” Bucky said with a proud smirk as he opened the door. He extended his arm out dramatically, motioning for you to slide in. You mumbled a shy thank you, still feeling your blushing was out of control and got comfy in the cab. 

Once Bucky was also settled in, he leaned in very close to the driver and whispered the destination. You pretended not to notice but had to admit, he sure was sticking to the whole surprise thing. It made you feel quite giddy inside knowing he was going through all this just to surprise you. To give you a (hopefully) nice date. 

Once the taxi driver understood the address, Bucky leaned back and the drive began. You stared out the window, watching your neighborhood pass by, as you tried to ignore Bucky still staring at you. It was like he was really focused on you like he was searching for something. It made you feel all kinds of warmth under your dress. 

“You look beautiful,” Bucky finally said, breaking the backseat silence. Your heart that was once pounding suddenly was going a million miles an hour. Uncontrollably, you whipped your head to look at Bucky. You met his eyes which were looking at you with such wonder and longing. Oh yeah, it was getting warm in this taxi, you thought.

“Thank you,” you said, shyly. You still didn’t understand where this nervous, antsy of you was coming from. You had been around him plenty of times, even had a bit of a fight that night in your fucking apartment, but now this was what you were scared of? A date? You had to shake your head to literally shake off the nerves, something that was becoming a habit of you now. 

Eventually, you forced yourself to add on to the conversation, “You look great, as well.” And that certainly was the truth. Bucky had cleaned up nicely. His hair was slicked back casually. He wore a soft sweater and black slacks. The outfit was paired with dress shoes. The entire look just felt… Classic but in the best way. In a way that was Bucky at heart. 

You two fell into silence again but it was more comfortable, like Bucky’s words had hidden messages telling you to calm down. This was just another date, as couples do, and you two had been through crazy stuff - cough, cough… the fucking apartment showdown. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, you thought, but it sure felt hostile in the moment.

Moments later, the taxi stopped outside some… dance hall? You peered up at the sign, quizzically. You had no idea these places even existed anymore. This was already turning out to be the most unique you had ever been on but it wasn’t like you had been on many. 

You were about to get out when Bucky stopped you. Confused, you watched him run around the front of the taxi and stop at your door. He opened it for you, as any gentleman would. He offered you his hand and helped you out. After paying for the cab, he came back to join you, offering his arm for you to take.

“Dancing?” You asked as you two walked towards the entrance. “You’re taking me dancing?”

There was a faint blush creeping up on Bucky’s neck. “I am,” he said. “Back in the day, when I wanted to woo a girl I took her dancing. I hope that’s okay with you.”

You giggled, “Yeah, it’s...” Your words abruptly stopped as you were suddenly hit with the realization: you didn’t fucking know how to dance. Even in your own time period, you couldn’t be thrown out anywhere expecting to bust some moves. Your feet stopped moving before you could enter the hall.

Bucky turned to you, concerned. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” 

You wouldn’t look at him and instead looked past him, through the clear doors of the dance hall, watching the couples spin and twirl about. “I don’t know how to dance.”

Bucky waved a hand in dismissal and continued walking. “There’s no need to worry, doll,” he said as he opened the door for you. “You can follow my lead and you’ll be just fine, okay? I’ve got you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Bucky placed a hand on your lower back, leading you around the hall. The music was loud, more on the big band side, though. You saw up-close now as the couples flung each other around, laughing in awe at one another. There was a bar off at one end where patrons moved around it with beverages. The place was fairly crowded as well, something you didn’t really peg Bucky for being enthusiastic about, but his face lit the second you two walked in. There was something like a sense of familiarity in his eyes.

You didn’t comment on it, though, and instead took his arm again, letting him guide you to the bar first. You were silently thankful, hoping a nice drink would loosen you up - at least, enough to actually get you on the dance floor. 

Bucky ordered for you two which you actually appreciated. Part of you enjoyed seeing him take charge like this. Plan the date, open your door, order a drink you might like… The care of it all made your heart sing. 

Retrieving the drinks, he handed you one. You thanked him as you took the drink and looked it over. The drink was something dark poured over ice. An orange peel and cherry bobbed in the liquid, next to the ice. You sipped it, letting the taste of whiskey and orange essence hit your tastebuds. 

“It’s lovely,” you said and took another sip. For as nice as it was, you weren’t exactly well versed in cocktails. “What is it?”

“An old fashioned,” Bucky answered as he took his own sip of the drink, letting himself lean in closer to you as you two stood at the bar. He still watched you with a curious intensity that made your skin all kinds of heated. “I-I’m glad you like it.”

A silence fell over you two once more as you sipped your drink and let your gaze wander back to the dancing pairs. They moved so majestically and vibrantly across the hardwood floor. Engrossed with one another, trusting as they spun about. You had to admit, it did look quite fun. 

“Up for a bit of a dance after this, doll?” Bucky drawled, a hint at what sounded like a little Brooklyn accent peaked out, making you grin. He must’ve been absolutely transported back in time and you were so thankful you could be there with him. 

You took a drink, probably more than you should’ve in one gulp, and said, “Maybe if this drink kicks in soon I’ll let you show me a few moves.” You smiled to yourself. “That is, assuming you still have moves.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as he stared at you above his glass. “Excuse me?”

You giggled, “Well, you’ve got a few years in you. Just want to make sure you can show a gal a good time.”

Bucky scoffed and then, without any other warning, he grabbed your drink from your hands. Slamming both the glasses on the bar counter, he gripped your hand in his and dragged you out to the floor. You shuffled to keep up, giggling loudly at the fire you had sparked within him. It was amazing what a little banter could do to him. Once he picked an area, the band began playing a new song and Bucky fell into the rhythm quickly. 

You stared, a bit stunned watching him move. But Bucky wouldn’t let you just stand there for long. Getting into the beat, he grabbed both your hands and began instructing you on the steps. Thankfully, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. This was just a dance hall, after all. Everyone was too caught up in their own lovers to pay attention to others. You watched his feet intensely, as you kicked and stomped, feeling a bit clunky but Bucky, you glanced at him every now and then, was watching you with a hint of pride in his eyes. 

Suddenly, he decided to get daring and spun you out, quickly pulling you back into his arms. You let out a laugh, enjoying the spontaneous move of it all and reveling in the feeling of his arms around you. Following that, you fell back into the rhythm. As you got more confident, you could actually look at Bucky better and saw he looked just as pleased and excited as you were. You felt you two had melted into the crowd well despite you feeling like a sore thumb. 

The twirling was probably your favorite and you were very pleased with your dress choice. As he moved you, it would flare just slightly around your thighs, making you feel like fabric just drifting in the wind. Bucky seemed to like it as well as his hands felt like they made a point to never leave your body, always prying and begging for you close. 

Eventually, after a couple of upbeat songs, the music turned down, now on the more slow side. Bucky, however, seemed very prepared for this as he pulled you into his body without a second thought. His hand landed on your lower waist, your front pressed to him securely. His metal hand was entangled with yours, lifted away from your bodies, as you two moved in a small circle. 

You and Bucky finally really locked eyes for what felt like really the first time in the entire dancing sequence. His eyes looked at you so softly, so in total awe. Maybe there was even a hint of admiration just lurking, you noted. You felt yourself blushing intensely, but then again, when weren’t you like that around Bucky?

Bucky eventually spoke. “You were a natural, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, a small smile on your lips. “I think I just had a really awesome teacher.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned. “He must’ve been great. Taught you some nice moves.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, “he’s the absolute best. Really good-looking as well. That’s a nice bonus.”

“You’re making me blush, doll.”

“Good. That’s how I get all the time around you. It’s time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

Bucky threw his head back, letting out a loud laugh. “Really, honey?” His eyes met yours again. You jumped at the new pet name. It felt so much more...domestic. “I make you blush? Make you feel a bit warm?” His tone got lower as it was just above a whisper. A shiver ran up your spine. 

You bit your lip, contemplating how far this was going to go. “You make me feel many things, Bucky. Good things.”

His grin had turned to a full teasing smile now. He didn’t respond, though, just nodded with a mischievous expression now coming across his features. You were going to ask what he was thinking about when the music stopped and the band announced they would be taking a break. It sounded like Bucky let out a sigh of relief as he promptly took your hand and began leading you off the dance floor.

“You hungry, doll?” He asked, stopping next to the exit, hands in his pocket now, looking all casual. But the casualness was a nice cover, you thought, as his expression held everything but unsuspecting. 

You hummed. “I could go for something.”

He nodded, still smiling. “I planned to cook you dinner. Is that alright?”

You gasped, “I get to go to your apartment now?”

He laughed as he took your hand again, now leading you out of the dance hall. You two began making your way down the street, hands gripped tightly together. 

“You will get to see my apartment but fair warning, it’s nothing special.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, like mine was a real looker.”

“At least yours looks lived in.”

You looked up at Bucky quickly, mouth open now as if you wanted to say something but you didn’t really know what. He wouldn’t look back at you now and instead just kept leading you to presumably his apartment building. You turned your sights back on the sidewalk, watching the cars and people rush around in the nighttime landscape of the city, as you let Bucky guide you. 

It was a fairly nice area he lived in, an estimated taxi ride away from you. The area was really bustling with people now and there were shops and eateries galore to browse. You glanced in the windows as you passed, watching others mingle about and eat their dinners. 

Eventually, Bucky stopped in front of a building and pulled open the door. He let you in first, still ever so the gentlemen despite you not knowing where the hell you were going. Neither of you dwelled on this though as Bucky took your hand again and led you to his apartment. You felt yourself getting antsy the closer you got but you didn’t understand why. As much as you wanted your flirting to get you a little bit somewhere, this was dinner. A nice lovely dinner with your soulmate. One that he planned to cook. (Could he actually cook, though? You debated this as you went.)

Bucky unlocked the door and let you in. Sadly, he wasn’t too far off from the comment about it not looking lived in. There wasn’t… much of anything. There were the essentials - kitchen, couch, stools, television - but nothing that screamed Bucky. Or that he even actually stepped foot in here. 

But you weren't about to say any of this. You lingered by the kitchen counter. “It’s cozy.”

Bucky chuckled, “Thanks for trying, doll.”

You frowned. “I-I mean it. It’s nice. Clean and… and formal.” Well, you thought, what could you expect from a former soldier?

Bucky raised his eyebrows, though, not buying it. 

“Alright,” you sighed, “it could use maybe some personal touches but your space is your space. Who am I to judge when mine looks like it's falling apart?”

“Yours has personality,” Bucky shrugged as he slowly took steps towards you. You were leaning against the counter now, arms crossed watching him approach. 

“That means it's a trainwreck.”

He smirked, “It means it fits you and I like you, so, naturally, I’m going to like your apartment.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “You like me?” You asked and winced at your words. Apparently, you were having a hard time growing out of this silly schoolgirl crushing phase. 

Bucky nodded, now pretty close, staring you down. One hand came to rest on the counter beside you, slightly trapping you in. “I do like you.”

You couldn’t get over how close he was now. Even during your slow dance, you don’t think he was like… this. Towering, confident. Your eyes flicked to his inviting lips quickly before returning back to his eyes. They held amusement and… Was that a hint of amorousness in them? Your pulse was racing.

“Enough to make me dinner?” You let out a breathy chuckle, trying your hand at humor to figure out what was going on here. You didn’t mean to be practically dismissing these advancements but you also couldn’t believe they were happening. You thought it was just some sweet back and forth in the dance hall, a possible side effect of the adrenaline from dancing getting to you two. But, no. This fact was simple. Bucky wanted you. 

“You know,” he sighed, “I don’t think I’m really hungry.”

“Oh?”

“At least not for dinner.”

You were barely able to let out a gasp at his confirmation before Bucky’s lips were on yours, hot and heavy.