#(she's just fucking w him naturally he was excellent)

[mermaidsirennikita]

So the Susan Elizabeth Phillips book I'm listening to is It Had to Be You (because the only Chicago Stars book I've read is Nobody's Baby But Mine and it's football season so TIME 2 GO)

And though there are for sure some choices made that VERY much signal this is a 1994 novel (one wording in like, the first chapter, made my eyebrows shoot STRAIGHT UP) (though I'll also say that this book is super about Gay Rights, like our heroine Phoebe surrounds herself with gay men and donated a fuckton of money to AIDs-related charities, and to be clear her 1990s football coach hero is also v down with the gays~, I am blindly going with it)

I will also say that whenever I read an SEP book, I'm struck by several things I find so difficult to find in current contemporary romcoms...

A) legit humor

B) ... thoughtful writing ....

C) the couple just. FUCKING AROUND.

Like, Phoebe has a lot of trauma and hangups (she's also 33, which I love! And I suspect that her hero, Dan, is probably in his late thirties/early forties) but a big part of this book is her learning to be comfortable with sex, which happens with Dan, even though Dan is in fact completely unaware that this is what is going on and just thought that her being like "Can you pretend I'm a virgin" the first time they boned was roleplaying

(Dan: WHEN WILL SOMEONE FUCK ME IN A NON-ROLEPLAYING CONTEXT???)

But like... they have sex... and he doesn't realize what a big deal it was for her so he just sorta skedaddles... and she's pissed about it so they sort of simmer in mutual "it'll never happen again" resentment... until they sorta buddy-buddy because he realizes he was being a dick (don't worry, this is SEP, he WILL be a dick again) and then she pisses him off so much by being like YOOHOO BOYS I THINK PICTURING THE OTHER TEAM NAKED WILL HELP YOU WIN THE FOOZEBALL GAME and then it WORKS, so naturally he then confronts her in the airplane bathroom directly after and she calls him on his shit and dresses him down, only to realize during turbulence-related body-slamming that her berating him made him FULLY aroused, which leads to a partial airplane BJ (her first BJ) (Dan, who does not know this is her first BJ, mentally: she is "sweetly awkward" about this) and an airplane fingerbang (complete) (this poor football team is just asleep a few feet away)

And now! They're just sorta sitting in snarky, not-dating, sometimes fucking around limbo... all while this man is fully like "I WILL BE ASKING THAT SWEET NURSERY SCHOOL TEACHER OUT BECAUSE I THINK SHE'LL BE A GREAT MOM TO MY NONEXISTENT KIDS.... TOMORROW........................... AFTER I FUCK PHOEBE AGAIN.................."

(Because mind you, when she was all "but you didn't come in this airplane bathroom" he was like "ohmigod her sweetly awkward unfinished BJ made me feel A Feeling, I've gotta put some distance between us by telling her that one day I'm going to just say 'Now' and regardless of where we are or what she's doing she needs to follow me to the closest broom closet and SPREAD'")

(to which Phoebe goes "oh actually that sounds amazing", so it did backfire)

There is no discussion of dating or their feelings! There is no rational discussion! They're just impetuously hooking up when they get horny! And sitting there snarking at the workplace (because MIND YOU, she OWNS THE FOOTBALL TEAM HE'S COACHING) while everyone on this football team probably considers whether or not this is becoming a hostile work environment! They're sort of semi-raising her teenage sister together at this point and there has been NO! DEFINING! THE RELATIONSHIP! NO! SENSE! ALL! FEELINGS! AND! FUCKING! AND! MESS!

Honestly??? It also just feels more like how a lot of relationships develop organically??? From situationships to "Oh wait, we're like... dating..." without a full-length discussion until it's already kinda happening?

Like, this is the vibe I want from a contemporary romance. Less rational robotic shit and more "local idiots stumble into love"

[noangeleither]

i wonder if we’ll ever get carmy talking about syd in al-anon. we know from his only scene at al-anon this season that he talks about the things bothering him in the present.

so this season he struggles with fun. bringing joy and amusement to himself and others because his family fucks it up without meaning to.

and this season we watch his family and family friends ruin fun (sydney who brings him amusement and joy) for him both actively through convincing him to pursue claire and also passively through learned behaviour and obligation (to take care of his family and those adjacent to them, fulfilling the wishes of a lonely teen carmy, and trying to connect w mikey when he can’t).

in omelette carmy recommits to sydney saying she deserves his full focus. i wonder if in s3 we’ll see carmy get introspective at al-anon about his relationship with sydney. since his meeting in s2, he’s had a lot of revelations about his feelings and obligations to her both professionally and romantically. and he’s going to struggle with those feelings and commitments due to growing up in unstable environments and dealing with the death of his brother

based on his behaviour in s01e7/8 we know carmy is deathly afraid of sydney leaving again and also what she thinks of him:

you are an excellent chef, you are also a piece of shit -> “listen i don’t, i don’t wanna be shitty” “so don’t be”

i think this fear is enough for him to want to openly talk/rant about in these meetings. carmy is acutely aware of his self-sabotaging tendencies but currently in the most negative way possible (the fridge monologue tells me he thinks self-isolation is the cure for self-sabotage - yikes).

he’s never explicitly talked about anyone in his life except for mikey at these meetings. i think sydney and mikey are often contrasted and compared in the overall narrative. Carmy says cooking is the way he and mikey bonded, and we know he bonds with sydney this way too.

Cooking was something used to be close to mikey so when he rejected Carmy, he went off to become a successful chef to spite mikey. whether its in love or anger he does it FOR mikey and wouldn't do any of it if he didn't want his attention and love.

Just like he wouldn't want to do any of this without Sydney. The dream of that restaurant died with his brother yet he found someone he trusts and loves enough to do it with. thats insane and huge. and that's something i think going forward, carmy understands he needs to protect and is scared to fuck up.

Mikey and Syd are people Carmy holds in high regard and even above himself. so naturally I predict/wish/want/hope (whatever) that he mentions her and how his relationship with her fits into all his journey of healing and greiving

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. tuesday we did voy's "night" and ds9's "afterimage."

night (voy):

i REALLY liked this one...a rare w for neelix, whose fear of nothingness is relatable and totally understandable considering he just converted to atheism

it also makes me understand why people hc janeway as bipolar...she's up she's down i kind of get it. not sure if i 10% agree but i do at least get it. deeply enjoyed chakotay's attempts to bring her back into the rest of the ship also

also, chakotay asking tuvok for advice <3 and then later janeway is like chakotay i trust you more than anyone on this ship and you just KNOOOW he is like damn take THAT tuvok! worsties <3

MUTINY AS A TREAT!!!! we can have a little mutiny as a treat.

i love that she was like chakotay i trust you saaaur much and he was like got it i will go behind your back to do mutiny

although, is it really mutiny if they're stoping what is more or less a suicide attempt...no. ALSO, it makes me well up how much they love her. not a single one of them wanted to stay behind on that paradise planet and the last time they almost mutinied it was curing 2.25 resolutions in which she did have to be left behind and like...damn. she's kicking herself for what she did to them but they love and trust her so much. wah. excellent episode

oh and before i forget i loved the aliens in this one also. she was like fuck the prime directive we are in fact taking sides <3

afterimage (ds9):

i miss deanna troi.

it's that bad! it's that dire! at least when deanna was being a therapist on a ship she knew what the FUCK she was doing. exri dax is like hee hee we will figure our problems out together at the same time! we will do it without warning in the middle of your tailor's shop! im a junior counselor i am such a good little girl scout! girl...please

i did really like ezri's scenes with sisko. firstly it's hard to fail when you're acting alongside him (although eddington or whoever did manage) and secondly it's when exri feels the most like "just dax" instead of teehee quirky cute junior counselor wannabe manic pixie dream girl. christ

also, it really riles me that garak is talking about this deeply personal stuff with a STRANGER. even jadzia was nearly a stranger to him - they knew each other but they weren't super close. it was a BIG DEAL when garak even allowed julian to know who his father was, and now with no prompting he's talking about that same father locking him in a closet isaac lahey style in the middle of his shop with zero prompting?? get FUCKED. it was so horribly manufactured. garak should have been working through this shit with JULIAN or at least someone who actually knows him. the betrayal of cardassians is such a juicy bit of acting and character development and we fucking wasted it on this shit!

speaking of julian, i'm also extremely put off by julian/exri...quark/exri actually feels so much more natural and respectful at this point whereas "oh she used to love when you flirted with her julian it would have been you if it wasn't worf" was so fucking excruciating and shoehorned in

finally...the worf stuff is bogus. he has no right to be like this isnt the same lady and then threaten people who talk to her. he also has a right to want nothing to do with her since he's grieving. she doesn't have to like make peace or whatever with him. he's not an obstacle she has to overcome in order to feel like one of the gang~! like she literally could leave :/ too bad she won't.

LIKE THEY DIDN'T HAVE TIME. TO DO A NEW CHARACTER. JUST BE LESS SHITTY TO TERRY FARREL. GOD.

maybe it will get better. i hope it does. but this JUNIOR~ counselor stuff is fucking killing me

TONIGHT: voy's "drone" and ds9's "take me out to the holosuite" - FINALLY. i'm still mad that jadzia never got to play baseball :(

[charlieconwayy]

Just curious what you don't like about Cory/Topanga if you feel like talking about it!

hey, i don't mind!

first off i think boy meets world in the context of just a purely heterosexual show makes it age pretty poorly, and that all stems from cory and topanga. i know one of the writers said a while back that the writers room was torn between shory and corpanga, and tbh, rewatching as an adult, that's extremely evident. i'm not gonna make this post all about shory bc that's reductive but i am first and formost a shory girl and a firm believer that cory matthews is a gay man

so let's get into it.

i really really love s1/2 corpanga. idk if it's just bc ben/danielle felt more natural back then or if it's bc they actually allowed cory to be wrong and topanga to be right, but it's just so sweet. one of my all time fav ship moments from the show is the frickin sock basketball scene where they touch hands and he giggles. so adorable! but i think what really makes them suffer after s1 (and kind of s2) is just that they clearly made topanga a normal, kelly kapowski girl-next-door type to make her more "desirable" for the male audience. that could be an entire separate post, but it's so fucking obvious that that's what the change was and it sucks because topanga was great the way she was.

they're not like hatable in season 3 exactly, but the "old married couple haha look how old gross and boring they are" trope when they were legitimately sophomores was just weird? and this is a retrospect thing but i hate how the show just kept retconning shit and pretended they never broke up in season 3, as if a HUGE storyline and one of the most iconic episodes (the happiest place on earth) wasn't about them getting back together? and for me just the concept of the ~universe wanting them to be together~ over and over again is just so fucking lame when they were so toxic. (great video on this here)

they really don't do anything wrong in season 4 either, but a long walk to pittsburgh is honestly so beyond ridiculous LMAO. i know everyone talks about how romantic it is, but i hate it because topanga literally runs away and moves back to philly just for cory. i know they claim it's to finish at john adams too, but i would find that much more believable if they had developed topanga AT ALL outside of cory. we know almost nothing about her home life and they wrote trini out so we never even see any friends of hers! the trend of them fighting and talking down to amy about their love is so fucking stupid too. like you are sixteen. it is fine to love someone and want to be with someone, but amy is right that it's not healthy for them to be as obsessed with each other as they are. like cory literally doesn't know who he is outside of topanga and that's NOT healthy.

oh lordy. s5. i'm not going to get into how much i hate that shawngela (a MUCH happier, more interesting relationship) was reduced to "wanting to be corpanga" in both their intro episode and then fucking gmw, but even the "old married couple" stuff in "chasing angela" at the restaurant is so annoying. "last tango in philly" is one of my fav episodes, but it's the perfect example of how cory can never accept he's wrong. shawn tries to tell him they should stop, and he just tells shawn he knows nothing about relationships and keeps being a dick about topanga and her (obviously gay) friend. but obviously, you're here to hear about how i feel about the cheating. yes, cory cheated and he genuinely liked lauren. for the show to act like he didn't is just gaslighting their audience. and tbh? i think ben and linda cardellini had excellent chemistry (certainly more than he and danielle did at that point . . .) and i think it's completely healthy to date more than one person! it was nice seeing cory be able to open up and bond with someone else, and yes, what he did was cheating. just bc he changed his mind and decided he "couldn't live without topanga" (bless u probably queer writer for what u did w that line :') ) doesn't mean that it didn't happen. topanga had EVERY right to break up with him. it does piss me off that we barely saw topanga's reaction to the breakup when there was a whole ep dedicated to shawn's reaction (and i say that as the #1 shawn stan), but that show hated women lbfr. AND WHY TF WAS IT BAD FOR HER TO KISS JONATHAN JACKSON WHEN SHE AND CORY WERE BROKEN UP????? bc cory can't accept things not going his way and not having control. the "we are a masterpiece" scene makes me so fucking angry omg i cannot

and i mean, bro, the yale shit has been talked about to death, but topanga lawrence going to the same college as straight d-student shawn hunter has got to be the dumbest, most woman-hating shit the show ever did. love can survive long distance if you put the effort in, trust me. (yes i am aware that the show prob didn't want to separate their main couple, but s6 was almost entirely about shawn anyway so????)

then in seasons 6 and 7 we get into the "cory yelling at and publicly humiliating topanga" trend. "undapants" is iconic so i'm not gonna go into that episode (fuck you "take her back to your tornado infested trailer park" line!), but i can name at least seven occasions where cory pressures her into sex. and rider strong is right. it was extremely holier than thou how they constantly made it seemed like corpanga was better than shawngela for not fucking before marriage. like isn't there a line where they call shawngela sluts in s7? the whole honesty bit in "the truth about honesty" (admittedly one of my fav eps) is also just ridiculous bc both of them always get pissed off at the other one for being honest, even in the past. i've seen people get mad at topanga for throwing yale in cory's face but lbr, who didn't see that coming? i guess maybe it's a little weird bc she'd never been resentful about it before, but that's a HUGE thing in their relationship. and yes, it is weird that she's using his razor without his permission but again just the pressuring her to show him her ass is also fucking weird (it's also weird imo that they've been together "their whole lives" but they've only ever kissed, but again, holier than thou bullshit)

one thing i can say about how weak and uninteresting their relationship actually is is that their ENTIRE wedding episode is about shory, bc they are the much more compelling dynamic in cory's life. weirdly enough, i do actually really like cory's vows though?? on a shawn hunter stan note, oblig "that best man speech was bullshit" comment. it's completely normal and healthy to have a best friend outside of your partner? especially when you can't be honest with your partner. god i fucking hate that bullshit. just like how i hate in "seven the hard way/the war" how they portray cory abandoning his best friend/true life partner for topanga AND THEN IN FUCKING GMW THE BAD FUTURE FOR EVERYONE LITERALLY CAME TRUE!!!!!!! omg i will go insane if i think about that for longer than a few seconds.

end of post, but leaving this here

[34saveme34]

weird fun fact about me: I had a phase where I watched like a fuck ton of among us streams, like not kidding I consumed hours of content

anyways, man, the among us would be insane with these guys

so many of them would hack, Melony in this nebulous place where she would hack to have fun and if she did that in like a public she would probably get kicked or something similar and feel so so sad about it

also the arguments would be SO loud

Mario would be an excellent killer, although very risky

like you would have a fast game with him either because he killed people that fast or because he got caught fast, he's just reckless like that

the 3 and 4 arguments would go crazy, especially when neither of them are the killer but they still vehemently accuse each other. they work great as killer partners though, considering how team work is second nature to them

except if they work too well together, people start questioning and eject them, making it so they have to kind of pretend fight to get out of shit, it's- more or less successful

Meggy is probably the one that likes to keep information straight the most, always trying to figure things out. this comes to bite her in the ass when she's a killer, as she will sometimes accidentally reveal herself to be a liar- not all the time but it's not rare either. Although she tries her best for her killer partners, and would likely sometimes end up protecting them a little too much, once again drawing suspicion

Tari is lethal.... if she was a more brave killer. I actually see her being really good at it, there's also this feeling of "I'm killing my friends and they're gonna find out :(" keeps her back. However in public lobbies she is EXTRA lethal

Saiko goes crazy because killer or not, she acts very similarly, always defending herself, overall a good killer, although I don't know about her team work skills- depends on who she gets paired with. I feel like, to an extent, Tari or Meggy could follow her lead well, she would turn out weirdly good with Mario even if she's not happy about it, if it was 3, she would try to reveal him on purpose, then frames it as gaining other people's trust requiring sacrifices

Shroomy.... probably one of the best killers, he would somehow turn out to be incredibly cunning, though if he goes anti Shroomy he has to try and not let out the Evil in voice chat, especially proximity chat, that would really bite him in the ass. very good survivor though, he loves his tasks in a mind numbing way, like hey murder may be happening but at least I have my silly little tasks to distract me

Belle super good unless she pairs up with someone she doesn't like, however w Tari would go crazy, she would get competitive and try to kill more than Tari. This recklessness does bite her in the ass a lot. She would be pretty bored with tasks, only doing maybe a few but otherwise walking around, trying to see if anyone if anyone is getting murdered

Boopkins is awful at both, which people recognise. However because people recognise he's awful, sometimes he will get away with a kill or 2 because he can sometimes will himself to do things well and people just. don't believe he could've taken that kill so they drop it

Bob gets ejected all the time, somehow always looking sus, he's not even that bad of a player, he is just somehow always sus. Like Bob, why'd you bring up organ trading during an among us sesh? are you channeling your inner killer? He is forever bored with tasks

[kitsu-katsu]

I'm gonna make this post as condenaed and abridged brainrot to explain why Victor Frankenstein is my boy from 200 yr old media prompted by a tag question from @samathekittycat in a post I reblogged because that highjacking would've been too much

So. Basically every adaptation ever is way off, Victor in the og novel is a guy from a rich family, yes, but one that has it's own fucked up occurrences that shape him even though he says his life is the peak of idyllic and that can lead to really good character analysis

He becomes an alchemy fanatic at 13, completely obsesses over it, even harder when his father claims the whole subject to be trash and he's in general somewhat fascinated by natural occurrences as well, so he gets it into his head that he wants to change the world by attaining the alchemist dream of basically defeating death, and this is all exacerbated when he's about to be sent away to study in Ingolstadt at 17 and just days before his mother dies of an illness his cousin-sister-future wife (it's complicated, it's a whole mess with hiw mother's involvement too) contracted first, so his trip is delayed a bit, but he never really processes his grief and is not that interested in actual science at first until a professor he meets there validates the alchemists ambition and he starts to hyperfixate on science so bad he's surpassed his professors in 2 years, and with all this baggage, at 19, he decides he's going to decode the secrets of death basically, because as he sees it at this point, if applied enough in the right direction with a scientific method any mediocre man could change society

So he builds his creatire after 2 years of isolating himself completely to do it, so he finishes it at like 21, and the thing is, the guy basically did all of this in a hyperfocused state he started at 19 and influenced by All That Baggage and grief he has Not Processed, so he wasn't really thinking about the consequences of anything. So his creature opens its eyes and suddenly the weight and terror of everything falls upon him along with a good mix of uncanny valley, and he just. Collapses. He sleeps a bit, his creature's still there, and he's so scared he runs away from his dorm room and by chance meets with his bff who was back in Geneva with the rest of his family he hasn't talked to in 2 whole years, his creature sneaks out while this is happening, and when going back, Victor is so mentally collapsed and strained and also scared he mighr be called crazy that he's just glad that the creature's gone and enters a fragile state where he's just completely physically sick and done for for a Big While, he can't take care of himself anymore and can't even look at anything relatingnto science anymore

When he's getting better, he has to go back to Geneva because his brother died. Whoah-oh, it was the Creature. He confronts it eventually and it asks for a bride and promises to go away with her, this is a Whole Conflict, because Victor can't reveal what he knows or he'll be labelled insane, he also doesn't wanna finish the bride because she'll also be her own person and what if she doesn't wanna run away with og Creature as his bride? While all of this is happening, one family servant is being accused of the murder and trialed, Victor is squealing in a corner

Basically, he's very autistic, he's seen a hysteric, his creation of the Creature can be analyzed from so many different angles, from teenage pregnancy and postpartum depression, trans experiences (both transmasc and transfemme! I've seen excellent analysis from both perspectives, though I have a personal bias towards the transmasc reading), the process of artist in general (like, that point when you start drawing something and you start zooming into every detail for hours and once you zoom out again you realize you don't like how it came out at all even though you put so much time into it), his illnesses and disabilities both mental and physical are really interestingly depicted as well, overall, he's a very meaty character who was FAR from making everything right, in fact, he did a lot wrong, but he's also a victim of his circumstances, a teen/young adult in the whole duration of the thing, and is suffering tons of pressure from everywhere while losing his purpose and selse of self to his opposition to his own creation. They are the definition of "they can make eachother worse" and Victor loses everything. He's a tragedy. A tragedy that a lot of people wanna ignore and just say he's plain evil because the Creature must be plain good and they feel smart if they say the typical "Small brain: Frankenstein was the monster vs Big brain: Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster vs Galaxy brain: Frankenstein was the monster all along" and they completely skip out on all the depth this character has

I went super aurface level in a lot of parts here, but I hope it's somewhat understandable

I recommend reading the novel though! It's Good

[dramaturgical-sense]

succession s1 episodes ranked

my unofficial official ranking of all the episodes in s1 of succession. mainly posting this for my own reference but feel free to argue w me in the notes. 

10. celebration: this episode does a good job of introducing the characters and setting up the background for later episodes. but since it is such an early episode, it naturally pales a little in comparison to the later episodes. a strong episode, but not a standout. favourite line: “Like this hitchhiker kid that I picked up this morning, like earlier this morning. 'Cause it was raining and I didn't want... I didn't want him to get sexually assaulted?”

9. shit show at the fuck factory- amazing episode title. again this episode does a great job at setting up the siblings dynamics, both with each other and with logan. this episode does a great job at highlighting the uncertainty of kendall’s position as CEO and setting up the debt issue plotline. again a strong episode, but not necessarily a standout. favourite line: “What I think he meant to say was that he wished that Mom gave birth to a can opener because at least then it would be useful.”

8. i went to market- again, the job of this episode is mainly to background the upcoming conflict between kendall and logan. it does this well, but for me personally i find it a little less engaging than some of the other episodes. there is some fantastic tomgreg and tomshiv moments this episode. tom is especially good, going from uncertain and hesitant around shiv, to coercive and bullying around greg. favourite line: “Well, Kim Jong Pop, because that's not how things work in this country.”

7. prague- i do enjoy this episode, but i personally feel like it relies on the premise of “bachelor party at a sex club” too much for the humour and the jokes. however, there are so many great moments that i couldn’t put this episode any lower. tom is FANTASTIC in this episode, desperately overcompensating in the funniest ways possible. the dogpound conversation is excellent, and sets up a recurring theme in succession- the fallibility of memory and the way the three siblings can perceive the same event in vastly different ways. favourite line: “She kisses me and puts it back in my mouth, and I swallow.” “Which, the cum?”

6. lifeboats- this is a really fun episode. we get to see kendall and roman in action, and they are all too ready to embarass themselves. this episode really solidifies the fact that while kendall can bluster and put on a good show, at the end of the day he is still desperate to impress logan. its a funny episode, the pacing is great, and we get our first tomshiv domestic breakfast scene, which i love. favourite line: “It's not like they pre-poop them or something, like, it's not like... They're just bags, really. It's just a mental barrier.”

5. sad sack wasp trap- this is a stellar episode. we get the cruises plotline, connor’s mental breakdown, the further fracturing of kendall and logan’s relationship, and we start to see the cracks in tom and shiv’s relationship. this episode is intriguing, clever and funny. one of my favourites to re-watch. favourite line: “Tom, it's tough to have to tell you like this, but I'm in a sexual relationship with your mother. She talks in her sleep.”

4. which side are you on- the past five episodes have been building up the tension between logan and kendall, and it culminates in a very satisfying way. the ending shot of logan with ‘which side are you on’ playing in the background gives me chills everytime. the show opened with logan pissing on the floor and having a brain hemorrhage, yet he manages to be a terrifying figure throughout the show, with no other character able to stand up to him. every single second of the boardroom scene is great, and i particularly love roman’s body language throughout. absolutely fantastic. favourite line: “Drink the gold, my friend. And then later you and I can have a 24-karat piss.”

3. nobody is ever missing- okay look, this is a phenomenal episode, there is no denying that. the only reason it isn’t number one on this list is because i feel like this episode is less impactful on a rewatch, than it was the first time i saw it. but the scenes of kendall dancing with his family and his conversation with logan at the end of the episode still hit so hard. it’s a very kendall-centric episode but the other characters still get their moments to shine. shiv and tom’s wedding conversation and roman’s rocket launch catastrophe are highlights in a great ep. love love love. favourite line: “Bad news about my hymen. It's gone.”

2. austerlitz- this is the episode that made me completely obsessed with succession when i first watched it. this episode flipped a switch in my brain and i realised succession had everything i could possibly want in a tv show. i especially love the portrayal of kendall’s relapse- it’s almost a self-fulfilling prophecy with everyone around him believing he’s already relapsed. this episode is such a perfect depiction of the cycles of abuse, as we see logan repeat patterns from his own dysfunctional childhood when he manipulates and terrorises his own children. kendall’s confrontation with logan + the shot of kendall doing cocaine on that giant rock at the end + the shot of logan’s scars rewire my brain everytime i watch the episode. so good. favourite line: I don't know how to say this, except to say that love is a strange and peculiar affliction. It's like a virus. So could you please just stay here for a while... and maybe you'll catch it.

1. pre-nuptial- going into this rewatch, i expected that austerlitz would take the number one spot. but like all great romances, my love for episode 9 snuck up on me unexpectedly. this is definitely an episode that does better upon a rewatch. there isn’t one major iconic moment in this episode, and it definitely does a lot of setting up for the finale, but this is a very revealing episode in terms of the characters’ motivations and relationships. every single character is in fine form: at their most neurotic and dysfunctional. all the interactions between characters are layered and nuanced, and i particularly enjoyed watching the siblings engage with caroline. special mention for the tomshiv conversation this episode, which will forever live in my heart. i could write a whole separate post about that one scene itself. favourite line: “Well, these hands aren't gonna fuck themselves.”

[narwhalandchill]

anyhow tonights pokemons updates wahoo

So clays team just got murdered in cold fucking blood by none other than petulias quiver dance fueled rampage Once More 💀 shes also even faster now bc thanks to the power anklet she came holding in the NPC trade that i could use for some extra speed EVs from that pokemon breeder on route 6 w the minccino + deerling who i used to grind levels instead of the usual audinos. zoroark is also lightning fast now for the same reason

surf HM means more encounters! first picked up frillish from virbank city and then a basculin from aspertia which is whatever but at least a defensive ghost type could prove interesting esp since mine got water absorb. then got VERY excited winning the 50-50 between aron and axew in mistralton cave when using repel strats except. its a fucking. rivalry axew thats a girl. when like 97% of NPC pokemon are male 😭😭😭 this is so ass whyyy . she has an atk boosting nature but like . rivalry is such a nerf idek if shes worth it even for like. drayden .

chargestone cave got me my magnezone And a ferroseed which like aside from the homophobia (iykyk) is a good encounter at least . also zoroarks bird killing crimes have been amended bc i was informed that it is a common enough rule to implement in nuzlockes that if u kill ur encounter by accident u do get 2 more tries to catch that same mon. so i did end up getting my tranquill after all but with how much of an absolute powerhouse fig the crobat has been throughout the run its hard to see her being of use unfortunately . fig is just such a consistent mon with excellent returns every time man

the team is also getting closer and closer to fully evolved!! everyones so big now!!! pats still not a samurott yet tho and unfortunately for at least the time being zip the herdier turned stoutland Has been benched in favor of n's zoroark but even if this retirement turns out permanent for him i still owe him so much for being the bulky reliable best boy of the early game all this time . so he can rest easy knowing he did an great job

fridge the magnezone is More of an unkillable defensive wall than ever now especially with leftovers, only thing theyre rly lacking is just a proper special electric move thats not . volt switch or thundershock lmao but this is just a learnset issue . discharge is coming up eventually

myyr as an excadrill has also joined petulia in the weapon of mass destruction category and clay giving the bulldoze TM Finally nets us a physical ground STAB for her that doesnt require two turns like dig does . zoroark is also looking pretty terrifying in his own right but my current lack of TMs for all the coverage moves it can access for that True beast mode experience is still somewhat of a handicap. at least shadow ball TM is soon for ghost coverage (altho. if its ghost i need im too much of a chandelure gigafan not to just use a litwick 💀)

and as is now tradition aka. the current crew:

hehe. im rly having fun

[ptergwen]

can’t get close | ch. one

☛ series taglist ♪ series playlist ✎ series masterlist

w/c: 5,542

warnings: explicit language, smoking, drug use, references to sexual activity, adult content throughout

summary: peter parker agrees to tutor you in physics for one reason and one reason only; you’re paying him. but, it quickly becomes about more than the money.

a/n: i’ve had this in the drafts for a long ass time and i’m so stoked i finally get to share it with y’all omg i hope you enjoy this series as much as i do bc i can’t wait for you to see what’s next! also a reminder that all characters are of age and you should only proceed if you’re 18+! feedback is appreciated, much love to you <3

“fuck.”

you’re looking over the physics test your teacher just handed back, trying to make sense of her many markings. each page is covered in streaks of red pen from top to bottom. psychics isn’t your strongest subject by any means, but you didn’t think it was this weak. your heart nearly falls out of your chest when you read your grade.

you failed.

by one point.

screw physics, and screw ms. warren, too.

“shit,” you curse, slamming the test down on your desk. harry looks back at you. “something the matter, y/l/n? what’s got your panties in a twist?” he wonders with that stupid smirk of his. “not you, that’s for sure,” you retort. “ooh, feisty today, are we?” he observes.

harry turns around in his seat to face you properly. he leans his elbows on your desk, the smirk still evident on his features. you glare at your test score written in big, red numbers.

it’s almost as if it’s taunting you.

“seriously, you good?” harry checks. “you could always talk to me, y/l/n,” he nudges your foot with his own. “i failed, harry. i fucking failed the test,” you mutter. “what? lemme see,” harry demands.

you wordlessly push your test towards him. he picks it up and examines it, frowning at the paper in his hands. you press your lips together.

“just a point off, huh? it could be worse. shit was hard, man,” harry comforts you, giving you your test. you put it face-down this time. “yeah? what’d you get?” you challenge. “that’s between me and warren,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “so what i’m hearing is, you passed,” you conclude. “barely, but i didn’t want you to feel bad,” he admits. “nothing could make me feel worse than the fatass F on my paper,” you deadpan.

your gaze lands on peter parker up at ms. warren’s desk, watching their exchange.

“excellent work, peter. i was very impressed,” ms. warren compliments. she even smiles at him, something she never does. “thank you, that means a lot,” peter smiles back, retrieving his test from her. “most students get stumped on the constructed response. not you, though,” she goes on.

peter is the by far brightest student at midtown. you know it, he knows it, everybody knows it. he doesn’t have to try for it, either. he’s one of those people who’s naturally smart, shit just comes to him. you swear the kid’s brain must be wired different or something.

you think it’s pretty damn cool how genius peter is. you’ve got to wonder what it’s like being such a science whizz. you don’t have enough brain cells for it, though. you’re killing them all off, fucking around and getting high.

it’s whatever. you’re more of an english kind of gal, anyway.

“nerd alert!” harry calls to peter, hands cupped over his mouth to project his voice. peter’s brows furrow as he searches for the source of it. “dude, leave him,” you smack at his chest.

the bell rings, signaling the end of the period. your classmates hurry out of their seats and file towards the door. ms. warren reminds everyone of an upcoming homework assignment on the way out. you flip her off behind her back, to which harry snickers at.

“lunchtime,” you wiggle your eyebrows. “let’s go smoke.”

“jeez, y/n. what did you get right?” liz murmurs, flipping through your physics test. “not much, as you can see,” you answer. you take a long drag from your cigarette before passing it off to harry. “hey, it’s no big deal. there’s always the next one,” harry tries.

you’re seated at your usual picnic table outside. you sit up on the tabletop with harry and liz on the bench facing you. harry inhales smoke from the cigarette and puffs it out in your face. you waft the smoke back towards him with a giggle, liz sighing at both of your childish behavior.

harry osborn and liz allan are your very best friends in the whole world. they’re your ride or dies. peter may be well known around midtown, but he’s not the only one. you three have got quite the reputations yourselves. just, for different attributes.

you’re the best fuck, got the best stash. harry is your dealer. liz has the brains, so she gets you and harry out of the trouble you get yourselves into. she’s not afraid to let loose from time to time, though. the three of you make the perfect trio.

“y/n, you’ve gotta get your grades up,” liz warns. “warren’s tough. she won’t think twice about failing you, and i mean for the year,” she sets your test down in your lap. “too bad i can’t fuck her for an A,” you say, snatching your cigarette back from harry.

harry flicks your knee over your jeans. you kick your foot at him in retaliation. he dodges you.

“i’m serious. i had her last year, remember?” liz asks, sipping her iced cofeee. “yeah, yeah. lucky you, you already took physics,” you speak with the cigarette between your teeth. “exactly, so i know what she’s like,” liz finishes. you exhale smoke and a chuckle along with it. “you wanna help me out then, lizzie?” you question.

“you mean, like, tutor you?” liz wonders, her features holding amusement. “why not? you’re smart, you know the curriculum. let’s do it,” you propose. “i’d love to, but i can’t. i’m really busy with decathlon, and yearbook, and…” she smiles apologetically. “say no more, madam president. i understand,” you assure her.

you jam your cigarette into the wooden table to put it out, tapping the ashes onto your physics test. you peer around the courtyard at the other tables. peter parker happens to be at one of them. he’s laughing about something with his friends, prompting your lips to pull up in a grin.

“you should ask parker to tutor you,” harry suggests. “are you out of your mind? he would never,” you scoff. “are you out of yours? he’s a pro at physics, and i’ve seen you checking him out,” he pokes your knee, hard.

you wave him off, although you don’t deny it.

“oh my god, you totally should!” liz chimes in. “i coach peter for decathlon, he’s awesome. i’m sure he’d be happy to do it,” she vouches for him. “you think so?” you narrow your eyes at her. “of course. he’s a sweetheart,” liz laughs out. “c’mon, ask him,” harry encourages. “right now?” you peek over at peter.

he’s munching on a carrot stick, listening intently as one of his friends rambles.

“not like he has much else going on,” harry states, stealing liz’s coffee and chugging what’s left of it.

you are in desperate need of a tutor. there’s no way you’re repeating physics. once is more than enough, so you’ll take all the help you can get to pass the godforsaken class. it’s your senior year. if you fail, you risk not graduating. besides, peter is an expert, and he seems chill. if anyone can help you, it’s him.

it’s worth a shot.

“sure, what the hell?” you decide, swinging your legs off the table. “attagirl! that’s the spirit!” harry cheers. “remind him there’s acadec practice after school. he hasn’t been showing for some reason,” liz requests. “peter parker cutting classes? i gotta give him more credit,” you joke.

you stand up on the bench before hopping down into the grass. you then make your way over to peter’s table. as you’re approaching him, you shake out your oversized t-shirt to rid it of the smell of smoke. you plaster on your sweetest smile and stride up to peter and his friends, going to the head of the table. the three of them are caught up in their conversation.

“what’s up, parker?” you speak up. peter’s head whips in your direction. “leeds, watson,” you nod at his friends, ned and mj. mj nods back. “y/l/n,” ned greets, trying to play cool. “to what do we owe the pleasure?” mj asks. peter merely stares up at you. “can i sit?” you ask him. “uh, yeah. go ahead,” he mumbles.

you take the empty spot on the bench next to peter. his eyes practically pop out of his head.

peter is shocked you’re talking to him. he can’t recall you two ever even speaking before now. there’s also the fact that you’re you, and he’s him. it’s not like you run in the same circles.

what’s your deal?

“you’re probably wondering what i’m doing here,” you read peter’s mind. “what if i told you i knew a way you could make a dollar or two?” you start. he perks up, interest piqued. “keep talking,” he replies, nibbling on another carrot. “tutoring. have you ever considered it?” you grin, proud of your idea.

“tutoring for what?” mj questions. “and who?” ned piggybacks. you lock eyes with peter. “me, for physics,” you reveal. peter is dumbfounded, and his face doesn’t hide it. “seriously?” he almost chokes on his carrot. “that hard to believe, huh?” you chuckle. “i mean, no offense, but…” he looks to ned and mj. “you’re not exactly the tutoring type,” mj grimaces.

“listen,” you sigh, glancing between the three of them. “it wasn’t my first choice either, but i’m failing, and that’s not an option,” you explain. “i really don’t wanna retake this shit. i won’t make it through another year… not alive, at least.”

your voice quiets towards the end of your sentence. you pick at your manicured nails, gaze drifting to the ground. peter’s lips twitch into a sympathetic frown.

this must be heavy on your mind. he’d hate to see you struggling when he knows he could help, or anyone for that matter. plus, you offered to pay. he could really use the money.

“why peter, though? why do you want him to tutor you?” mj inquires. “yeah, why peter?” ned gawks. “liz wasn’t available,” you honestly answer. ned and mj share a look. “no, but seriously. he’s the smartest guy in our class. hell, he’s the smartest guy at this school,” you flash peter a smile. peter finds himself returning it. “who better than him?“ you rationalize. “fair enough,” he decides.

“is that a yes? you’ll do it?” you ask. “i’ll do it,” peter confirms. you grab him by his shoulder, face lighting up. “perfect! when do we start?” you wonder. “how’s today after school, if you’re free?” he responds, laughing softly at your enthusiasm. “i am, but you’re not. decathlon practice,” you click your tongue.

“how did you…” peter trails off. “liz,” ned and mj reply in unison. you beam at them. “okay. um, after practice? we could meet up?” peter lets his eyes flit to yours. “text me your addy. looking forward to working with you, parker,” you conclude, getting up from the bench. “you too, y/l/n. see you later,” he shoots you another smile.

you wave to ned and mj before jogging back over to your table. ned claps peter on the back, who’s looking at you over his shoulder.

if he only knew what he was in for.

“nice work, everyone! don’t forget to review the topics we discussed for next practice,” liz dismisses the decathlon team.

the team stands from the table, each saying their goodbyes to one another. peter and ned pack up their things.

“i can’t believe y/n y/l/n is coming over to your apartment,” ned raves. “neither can i,” peter murmurs, shoving books in his backpack. “seriously, peter! this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! what are you gonna wear?” ned asks. “uh, this?” peter gestures to his science pun t-shirt and khakis. “dude,” ned groans.

“i mean, does it matter? i’m only tutoring her, ned,” peter reminds him. “peter, you don’t just tutor a girl like y/n,” ned refutes. peter zips his backpack, looking blankly at him. “we’re gonna study, and i’m gonna get paid. that’s all,” he brushes him off. “that’s why i’m doing it, you know. for the money,” he slips a backpack strap onto his shoulder.

“really? that’s the only reason?” ned presses. “and, because i feel bad for her. nobody should have to retake physics. it’s the spawn of satan,” peter justifies. the two of them begin to make their way out of the auditorium. “true. well, good luck. let me know how it goes,” ned pats his friend on the shoulder. “alright. thanks, man,” peter replies before ned leaves the auditorium.

“peter!” liz shouts out. “come here a sec!”

peter clutches onto his backpack strap, head tilted to the side. he walks back over to the table, where liz is tidying the space. she pauses to rip a piece of paper from her notebook. she scribbles something down on it, then hands it to him.

“y/n’s number,” liz says. “right, thanks,” peter nods, tucking the paper into his pocket. “good job today, by the way. we missed you. don’t work y/n too hard,” she winks. “missed you guys too, and i won’t,” peter chuckles, exiting the auditorium at last.

once peter is settled in at home, he retrieves your number from his pocket. he puts it into his phone, lips pursed curiously. without thinking too much of it, peter types out his address and hits send. you reply all but a second later.

peter jumps when his phone buzzes, not expecting you to answer so fast. he cracks a small smile as he reads your message.

be there soon! brace yourself parker :)

peter gathers his physics materials while you head over to his apartment. he then decides to neaten up the messy space in anticipation of your arrival. you’re his company, he supposes. besides, his aunt may will surely appreciate him cleaning up after himself for a change. she’s always saying the place is a pigsty.

he’s pushing a cereal box into the kitchen cabinets when you knock at his door. he quickly closes the cabinets and scrambles to get the door, but not without stopping to check his reflection in the toaster. he meticulously combs back his hair with his fingers before he realizes what he’s doing.

ned must have gotten in his head.

peter rolls his eyes at himself and fixes his hair the way he had it. he pads over to the door, turning the knob to reveal you on the other side. you sport a wide grin, a textbook hugged to your chest. he’s pleasantly surprised that you came prepared.

“let’s get to work, shall we?” you prompt. “we shall. come on in,” peter invites you.

you wander inside, your perfume filling the air as you pass by. peter shuts the door and meets you at his kitchen table, where you’ve already seated yourself. you get comfortable in your chair, leaning back with one leg crossed over the other. you open up your textbook. peter sits across from you and does the same.

“so, what’s on the agenda?” you question. “i figured we could start at the beginning, go back to the basics,” peter responds. “we’ll take it slow, okay?” he looks over at you. “mm, not my specialty,” you remark. peter’s eyes widen at your innuendo. “kidding. whatever you think, parker. we’re in your territory now,” you say.

“okay, cool. turn to page-“ peter cuts himself off when you plop into the seat next to him. “i’d rather look on with you, if that’s alright. i’m a visual learner,” you explain. “sure, whatever works for you,” he assures you, flipping to the first chapter.

you move in so you can see better. your shoulder squishes against peter’s, the sweet scent of your perfume smelling stronger from how close you are. your lips part, then curve into a smile. peter gets distracted by your gaze, subconsciously inching even closer to you. you nod for him to start. he snaps out of his daze and shifts to face forward.

what the hell was that?

pull it together, peter. pull it together.

“chapter one, introduction to dynamics,” peter reads aloud. you follow along with your finger on the paper. “dynamics is the study of bodies in motion. dynamics is concerned with describing motion and explaining its causes,” he begins, glancing at you. “you okay with that?” he checks. “yeah, so far so good,” you affirm. “awesome. the general field of dynamics consists of two major areas,” he continues.

“should i be taking notes or something? i, uh, don’t wanna get lost,” you confess. peter looks up from the textbook, his kind eyes meeting yours. “is that how you usually study?” he asks. “on the rare occasion i do, yeah. i take notes as i go,” you reply. “i’m not sure how well it works, though. it’s sometimes too much to understand at once,” you shrug, chewing your lower lip.

“maybe we could try a different approach,” peter speaks quietly. “how about we read through the chapter first, then go back and write down what you think is important after?” he grins. you smile back, lip still between your teeth. “that sounds good. i like that,” you agree. “great, let’s go on. stop me anytime you want me to explain something, okay?” he offers. “mhm, thanks,” you hum.

“the general field of dynamics consists of two major areas: kinematics and kinetics…”

you and peter take your time working through the first chapter of your physics textbook. he’s impressed by your positive attitude and drive to learn more, taking an active interest in everything he covers. you’re grateful for peter’s patience with you and how willing he is to answer all your questions in as many ways as you need him to. you have a lot of them.

the session goes way better than either of you were expecting. although you’ve nowhere near mastered physics yet, you’re at least putting in an effort.

“this is a good place to stop for today, but we’re making progress,” peter eventually decides. you face palm into the textbook. “thank god. there’s only so much physics i can take,” you grumble. “you and me both,” he concurs, venturing into the kitchen. “snack?” he asks you. “yes, please,” you do a thumbs up.

“how was decathlon practice?” you make conversation while peter searches his fridge. “i’ll spare you the details. i think i’ve bored you enough for one day,” peter chuckles. “i asked, didn’t i?” you reiterate. you sit back up in your chair. “uh, it was good. we just ran some drills, talked about nationals,” he elaborates, now rummaging through the cabinets.

“ah, liz told me you guys might go back this year. you’re the reigning champs,” you recall. “that’s us,” peter echoes. when he opens the cabinet, the cereal he put away earlier falls out. “you like fruit loops?” he questions, holding up the box. “dude, i fucking love them. gimme,” you command.

peter pours you each a bowl of cereal and brings them back over to the table. you dig in, earning lighthearted laughter from him.

“when’s our next session?” you ask between a mouthful of fruit loops. “i thought we could meet, like, once a week or so. so, next week?” peter answers. you drop your spoon. “that’s it?” you inquire. “you wanna meet more than that?” peter copies your incredulous tone. you give him a look, a dead-serious look. “if you think it’ll help you, sure,” he says before downing the last of his cereal.

peter carries your empty bowls to the sink to wash them out. you push in your chair, fumbling around in your jeans for your wallet.

“well, i’ve gotta run. me and harry have some… business to attend to,” you speak over the running water. “we’ll discuss more tomorrow. thank you, parker. for the tutoring and the fruit loops,” you send him another smile. “you’re welcome. glad i could be of service,” he replies, and means it. “money’s on the table. see ya!” you inform him before rushing out the door.

did that really just happen?

peter dries off his hands with a kitchen towel and goes back over to collect the money. he sorts through it, blinking wildly. you left him a couple of twenty dollar bills. they smell of sugary vanilla, your signature scent.

“this is definitely more than a dollar or two,” peter remarks, pocketing the twenties.

that really just happened.

“alright, y/l/n. what’s it gonna be?” harry questions.

he’s multitasking, rolling a blunt while he deals to you. you’re sprawled across his bed on your stomach, feet up and kicking behind you. you’d come straight to his place after leaving peter’s. you need to restock your supplies, so it was time to hit him up.

“an ounce of your finest,” you respond. harry licks and pinches the rolling paper to shape it. “weed?” he asks. “yeah. i’m not into hard stuff,” you quirk a stern brow. “and what a shame that is, y/l/n. you have no idea what you’re missing,” harry sighs, setting down the freshly formed blunt. “i’d like to keep it that way,” you mumble.

“an ounce of my finest, coming right up,” harry announces. he tosses you a small, sealed baggie, which you catch. “pleasure doing business with you, osborn,” you let out a raspy laugh. “can i get some E, too?” you wonder. “lemme see if i have any. i was almost out, last time i checked,” harry rubs his chin.

you often wonder where harry gets this shit from. his father is a big businessman with connections all over the city, so you assume it’s something to do with that. the osborn name, that is.

“what do you need ecstasy for, anyway?” harry questions. “always like to have some, just in case. it’s fun to fuck on,” you clarify, arching your back to stretch it out. “trust me, i know,” he wiggles his eyebrows. he opens up a drawer he uses to hide his stash, fishing around for the ecstasy. “who’re you fucking nowadays?” he pries. “who am i not fucking?” you counter.

his hand emerges with another baggie, this one with two pills resembling smiley faces inside.

“come and get it,” harry prompts you. you lunge forward and reach for the bag, but he pulls it away. “that’s gonna cost extra, since i’m running low,” he smiles wickedly. “whatever it is, i’ll pay it,” you concede.

harry holds out his hand for you to place your wallet in it. you give it to him, sitting up on your knees. he gathers all the cash you have and counts the bills out. he inspects the pile with his tongue out in concentration.

“you’re short,” harry tells you.

you pat your pockets to feel around for any loose money. much to your dismay, there isn’t any.

“aw, shit. i gave the rest of my cash to parker,” you remember. “spot me?” you grin hopefully. “i’ll take this for now, and you can pay me the rest some other time,” harry compromises, putting the pile down on top of his dresser. “deal,” you seize the bag of ecstasy out of his hand.

“speaking of parker, how’d your study sesh go?” harry wonders. he grabs a lighter and the blunt he just rolled. “really good, actually. he’s an awesome tutor. plus, he’s literally the nicest guy ever,” you respond. “is he now?” harry asks, lighting up his blunt. “yup. he even made me fruit loops,” you add. “wow, fruit loops. i dunno what more you could ask for,” harry quips.

“lay off him, would you? it was cute,” you defend. harry inhales a generous amount of smoke from his blunt. “careful, y/l/n,” he warns, exhaling the smoke. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you have a crush,” he taunts. you tsk at him. “me? a crush? never,” you proclaim, snatching the blunt from harry.

harry looks you up and down inquisitively, then retrieves more paper to roll himself another blunt.

“she wants to meet again already? dude, she likes you,” ned nudges peter’s arm.

peter is filling ned and mj in on how your tutoring session went the next day at school. the three of them walk side by side in the hallway as they chat.

“or she’s just trying to pass physics, like she said,” mj corrects. “or both,” ned levels with her. peter shakes his head, eyeing ned. “no, mj’s right. y/n worked really hard last night. she wants to do well, is all,” he says. “of course i’m right. i’m always right,” mj declares. neither peter nor ned dare to disagree with her. “i have my theories, you guys have yours,” ned murmurs.

“uh huh. anyway, i should get to class. later, dorks,” mj dismisses herself from her friends. “bye, em,” peter replies.

ned pulls peter off to the side once mj is gone. he grips at either of peter’s arms, staring into his eyes with intensity. peter looks around the hall to make sure no one else notices their odd encounter.

“the signs are right there in front of you, peter. y/n wants you!” ned says. “i bet she’d totally hook up with you if you asked her,” he convinces. peter’s mouth falls open. “ned! have some class!” he whisper yells. “relax, dude. it’s what she does,” ned justifies. “and it’s none of our business. c’mon, we’re gonna be late,” peter chastises him.

peter isn’t proud of it, but he thinks more about what ned said after their conversation. you were sort of touchy with him yesterday. he’s not oblivious to the way you look at him, either. and, hey, it’s no secret you get around. not that that gives peter a right to your body or anything. it’s just something to consider.

realistically, you’re probably only being friendly. you act like that with pretty much everyone. peter doubts he’s even your type. you’re more likely to go for someone in your own league, someone more like harry osborn. for all peter knows, you already have.

when it’s time for physics, peter slips into his usual seat at the front and center of the room. he unpacks his things and waits for ms. warren to start the class. you and harry rush in as the bell is ringing, giggling about something amongst yourselves. peter’s eyes follow you to the back of the room, where the two of you sit. you give peter a wave and a small smile. he waves back, then turns to face the board.

“good afternoon, everyone. how are we all doing?” ms. warren greets. the class mumbles their responses. “glad to hear it. today, we’ll be peer reviewing your unit test i handed back yesterday,” she paces around the room. “as long as you work diligently, you may choose your own partners.”

you and harry fist bump each other. peter sinks down in his seat.

he dreads partner work in physics. none of his friends are in his class, so he always ends up alone. it’s humiliating.

“any discrepancies, come see me. i’ll be right up here. get to work, class,” ms. warren instructs.

there’s a chorus of chairs screeching and kids chattering as everyone splits into pairs. peter remains seated, his cheeks tinting pink. he gets out his test and looks through it absentmindedly, gaze going from the test to the clock. he’s ready for physics to be over. ms. warren strides over to his desk, a knowing look on her face.

“trouble finding a partner?” ms. warren questions. “i don’t mind working alone,” peter assures her. the deep shade of pink coating his cheeks says otherwise. “unfortunately for you, peter, this is peer review,” she laughs lightly. “we’re missing a few students today, so we’re an odd number. why don’t you join another group?” she asks.

“oh. um, i’m not sure anybody would wanna…” peter starts to make an excuse. “hey, parker!” you summon him. he turns to face you. “we’re looking for a third,” you say suggestively, harry smirking. peter glances back at ms. warren for approval. “your choice,” she comments before walking over to her desk.

peter weighs his options. he could either stay up here and die of embarrassment, or join you and harry. he decides to go with the latter.

he grabs his things and makes his way over to the two of you. you drag over an empty desk for him, grinning up at him. he instantly feels more at ease as he takes the seat, until harry speaks up.

“what’d you get on the test, parker? i’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” harry offers. “uh, i don’t think we’re actually supposed to share our grades-“ peter is interrupted by harry taking his test off his desk. “okay, sure,” he says instead. harry hums to himself at peter’s almost perfect score. “not bad, not bad,” he understates. “thanks,” peter nods. “you said it, y/l/n. parker here is brilliant,” harry concludes.

“you think i’m brilliant?” peter gives you a shy smile. “c’mon, parker. you are brilliant,” you push his shoulder playfully. “you two can compare grades later. let’s get to it, gentlemen,” you boss. “yes, ma’am,” harry salutes you, handing peter his test. “where did you guys wanna start?” peter wonders.

“from the top. i’d already fucked up on question one,” you show peter your test. there’s a big red X on the first question. “me, too,” harry sighs. “no worries, it was a hard one,” peter tells you both. “can i see your test again?” he asks you. you give it to him, brows raised. “for multiple choice, i recommend using process of elimination,” he begins. “good strategy,” harry acknowledges.

“let’s read through the choices. are there any you know right off the bat are wrong?” peter questions you. “uh, hold on,” you mumble.

you push the eraser of your pencil against your lips, reading the question to yourself. peter’s eyes can’t help but to trail down to your lips. you pout your bottom one out and turn the test towards you. peter sucks in a breath. your arm rests on his desk, head ever so slightly leaned against his.

“what about A?” you catch his attention. peter’s eyes move back up to yours. “huh?” he splutters. “choice A. that’s wrong, right?” you repeat. “right, yeah,” he laughs awkwardly. “so it’s wrong?“ you squint. “this is getting confusing. let me just,” peter chuckles again, crossing out A on your test. “there, process of elimination. you wanna do the rest?” he wonders.

“could i try, or is three a crowd?” harry buts in. “chill, harry. don’t act like you give a fuck about this stuff,” you tease, leaning further into peter. more color paints his cheeks just as they were paling. “you didn’t either ‘til yesterday,” harry reminds you. “yeah, well, a certain someone showed me i could,” you nudge peter’s arm.

a toothy grin creeps onto peter’s face.

“how about y/n finishes up question one, and harry, you take the next one,” peter suggests. “alrighty, then. i’ll get started,” harry agrees, picking up his pencil and beginning question two.

peter waits while the two of you redo the questions. you stay close to his side as you solve yours, using process of elimination to choose what you believe to be the correct answer. you elbow him gently once you’re finished.

“could you check this?” you ask peter. “sure, one sec,” he says, sliding your paper over to himself. you search for his eyes as they roam your paper. “how’d i do?” you bite into your lower lip. “um, you didn’t get it,” peter tells you. “seriously? shit, man. i’m a lost cause... i’m no good at this,” you complain.

“hey, don’t say that. you’re trying. that matters more than anything else,” peter reassures you. “you’ve got a long way to go, but you’ll get there. i’m here to help you,” he smiles. “thanks. i know i’m kinda slow at this shit, so thank you for being patient,” you reply. “thanks for being so understanding, too,” you place one of your hands atop his.

“you don’t have to thank me. i am your tutor, after all,” peter breathes out a laugh. “not right now, you’re not. you’re off the clock,” you point out. “i’m also your friend,” he toys with your fingers. “i mean, if you want me to be,” he hastily adds. “i do, yeah. friends it is,” you grin at him.

even though you’ve only known peter about a day, you could feel a fast friendship blooming. he’s not like harry or liz. he’s a teacher’s pet, he’s constantly tripping over his words. but, he’s also sweeter to you than anyone else is, guys especially. although, it’s not like the bar is set very high. the point is, you like that peter treats you differently than the other students at midtown do. it’s refreshing.

you don’t mind expanding your circle for him one bit.

“aye yo, parker,” harry taps peter on the shoulder. “this look right to you?”

he flashes peter his answer sheet, snorting. rather than doing question two like he was supposed to, he colored the empty bubbles in the shape of a dick. peter sports a pained expression. you give him a pat on the back.

“welcome to my world.”

tags: @sunshinehollandd @babyspiders @harbingerofheartbreak @moonsock @holland-styles @lowkey-holland​ @bi-lmg07 @rafeyybabyy @aayaissaa @explosiveholland @crybaby-culture @euphoricholland @jallerentrags​ @belovedholland @nocturnalms @mostdefinitelyhasissues @mayal0pez @hopeless-romantic-baby @cutetomholland @daddytasha @yeetedandoboi @curlyfriesthings @mclafm05 @minimarkive @hollandsangel @peterficrecs​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @peterparkeeh0le @walkintheprk @sleepingdancer @lilostif16 @cubedtriangle @sillykankam

[ms0milk]

Firstly~ just discovered you and LOVE your writing! <3 Your Hc’s about stealing the haori and King Kyō and the panic attack are *chef’s kiss* Secondly! as a black fem who’s obsessed with her hair (and Kyō’s hair does things to me ; w; )would you ever please consider doing an Hc or story about Kyō x reader and/or other hashira positively interacting with the reader’s curly hair? ^//////////^ fluff or smut it doesn’t matter~ hair worship and love are everything! Tysvm and I hope to read more of your work soon! <3

thank you so much!!! and huuuuuuUUUUNIE you know i fantasize about these beautiful folks taking care of me and my natural hair too, especially mr. golden boy himself — pls enjoy <3

s/o with natural hair

| ft. rengoku, mitsuri, tengen, sanemi, shinobu

Rengoku

I honestly think someone with natural hair would be a perfect match for Kyo, since a large part of his identity is being boisterous, especially how he stands out with his loud, fiery mane

when he meets you, your hair is obviously one of the first things he notices and he comments on it LOUDLY

“I’ve never seen hair curl in such a way as to defy gravity!”

the other pillars nod in agreement and carry on, except for Tengen who just sits back and smirks at the attention Rengoku gives you for the rest of the day ;)

if you ever feel insecure, he has plenty of his own hair stories to share with you since he often stands out for a similar reason

“did you know that the mothers of the Rengoku family stare at a lit torch for three hours every day while pregnant? that’s why my family’s hair all looks like this!”

um

i did not know that, no.

maybe you can get out of that

when it comes to taking care of your hair though

uuuuh

Rengoku is at least ready to learn

“I have to wash my hair today Kyo, you should probably run errands without me”

“nonsense! I’d much rather go with you, I can wait, it’s no trouble. How long will you be?”

o-o

ten minutes later you’re both in the shower because he insisted his help would speed things up

he’s a little rough the first few times he helps part, but once you stress how important it is to be gentle, it almost brings you to tears how focused and happy he is while detangling

he wants you to feel beautiful and above all else, for every part of you to be healthy. hair included

Kyo has a deep respect for the skill that goes into caring for your hair properly

you’ve put countless hours (months, years!) into practicing this skill, just like any swordman and their technique

so prepare for him to brag about all the unseen hard work you put into a specific style when the other hashira compliment you

500/10 haircare boyfriend

Mitsuri

maybe contrary to popular belief, this girl loves your hair so so so much, but cannot be trusted to help you take care of it

she just gets too excited

“mitsuri which style is better? this one or–”

“EEEEK!”

she’s on the floor

“roji, look how long my–”

“GORGEOUS Y/N”

it always makes you blush but doesn’t exactly save time

she also does not have the gentlest hands

inhuman strength and all

so she may not help on wash day

but she’s a great cheerleader, no matter how long it takes she likes to lounge in the bath with you

mitsuri does excel in two specific departments

1) decoration

she loves tying ribbons in your hair so you two can match

and she loves decorating your styles with beautiful pins, so you twinkle and jingle like a geisha

the hair products she buys you smell like she robbed them from heaven

2) protection

she’s on Y/n hair guard 24 hours a day 7 days a week

never forgets an umbrella in case you get caught in the rain

she will throw her literal body underneath of you to keep your hair from getting messed up

you’re too cute for that, no way

tengen's priorities are wives, civilians, himself

mitsuri’s priorities are y/n, y/n’s hair, herself, the mission, lunch, both your outfits, teammates

100/10 enthusiasm

Tengen

words almost cannot describe how perfectly this man treats your hair

like

he just thinks you're so fucking flamboyant and loves you so much

tengen will sit in the bathroom with you after a mission and wash your hair for you

how does he know to pre-poo??

he doesn’t pull your hair a single time and he’s somehow already conditioning it in eight even sections?? it’s been ten minutes??

the scalp massage alone is orgasmic

you look at him sideways for a few days after that first time, bc this man must be the biggest slut you’ve ever met

and a skincare routine??

truly run through

besides his finger detangling skills, what he really loves to do is style

he’s got golden hair pins, lengths of ribbon, beads, jewels

he can part, smooth, twist, plait, shingle, braid–

– is that a crochet needle??

watching his large hands do such nimble work is just a reminder of how much he loves you

if your hair is long enough, he makes sure to braid it back before a mission so that it doesn’t get in the way during an important fight

or get cut, literally god forbid. he would go on a rampage

your bed sheets and pillows are all silk

tengen and the wives all want to sleep near you because the smell of your hair is so sweet and soothing

you make the house 10x more flashy by just being in it, and the other hashira are always in awe of your elaborate bejewled styles, tengen’s ego almost can’t handle it

1000/10 can do my hair better than my stylist

Sanemi

literally doesn’t even bat an eye the first time you meet

curly hair? big deal. inosuke wears a pig on his head

but i mean

have you seen his hair..?

i’m pretty sure he just wakes up and jumps out the window to start his day

but he loves you so

the first time he registers the significance of your hair is when he’s impatiently waiting for cuddles for you to get out of the shower

“what’s taking you so long dumbass? get in bed! if you’re mad at me for something, making me sleep alone isn’t gonna weasel an apology–”

“sanemi jesus christ, i’m not finished washing my hair!”

“you’ve been in there thirty minutes already! wasting all my goodman water– how the fuck lo–”

“long, sanemi. this will take a long time. go to sleep, give me some peace”

sanemi is determined to know how you’re so bad at washing the hair you’ve had all your life, that it could possibly take hours to do

fucking amature

he’ll show you

wait–

huh.

when he storms into the bathroom you’re squatting on the stool beside the tub, surrounded by potions and clips

this…this is not usually what washing hair looks like

“move over!” he grumbles when finds his bearings

usually you just laugh off any extra aggression from him; he would never hurt you

nonconsensually

but this time! lives are at stake

“sanemi no.”

you’re not usually so serious with him, so he settles down next to you quietly. grumpily. but still refusing to give up

“if you want to help, then you have to do what i say.”

the next few, sleepy hours, are some of the sweetest in your relationship so far

he’s not the most skilled hairdresser, but he takes this new job so seriously

he slowly detangles from tip to root

c’mon nemi maybe not that slowly, it’s fucking late

smooths your hair shaft down with cold water so the twists aren’t frizzy

and the whole time he’s fuming

but seeing the attention he’s giving each strand, and how delicate he’s being despite his raging frustration, sets your loins heart alight

you’ve never seen him so quiet and still

he’s not big on creative styling, but he’s determined to get the basics down

he offers to shave your head every time he gets frustrated with a tangle

like mitsuri, this man will fight a puddle if it means keeping both your hard work safe

(he helps you every single wash day now)

and in moments of still

when he wakes up before you

when you’re distracted with work

any time he comes up behind you

he begins to admire your little curls more and more because of how carefully you love them

so he loves you a little more carefully too

250/10 a little confused but he’s got the spirit

Shinobu

much like kyojuro, she seriously respects the dedication it takes to not only keep your hair healthy but keep it looking so beautiful!

she sees how much time you put into taking care of you hair, and because she loves you she wants to help any way she can

she’s not big on hands on care; she’s worried she might hurt you or worse, damage your hair

but she’s a scientist!

an inventor!

and she’s gonna make the Taisho era your personal beauty supply store

she makes every single product you use, determined to give you only the best

how’d she silk press your hair in 1905??

you have a colorful array of silk scarves and bonnets because this girl runs a high-fashion butterfly mansion

did someone say wisteria-infused hair care??

smells good all day, and is deadly in battle!

one of her proudest inventions

“if a demon touches your hair in combat, their epidermis will be affected by a low-level poison!”

“ko, you made my leave-in poison?!”

“only for demons honey”

you’re not sure how she did it, but for some reason you attract butterflies when you’re out and about now

“what– what the fuck– ko!”

she races outside when you call from the garden, worried your hurt, but you’re just standing deadly still while three butterflies flit around your head

you’re in awe

are you magical?

you never figure out her secret

your hair has literally never been so soft

it’s growing like crazy, your protective styles can’t keep up

Kocho may not be hands on when it comes to washing, but you can always rely on her for a trim

she’ll sit you on the floor and trim your hair section by section

your curls always bounce back so well when she’s finished, you’re amazed how she takes off the perfect amount of length!

it is literally the most stressful event on her calendar every month

^^^she refuses to admit it’s a challenge for her

she practices on the girls before ever taking a pair of scissors near your head

Aoi had fucking crazy bangs for a few weeks when you first moved in and you never really thought much about it

650/10 you feel like a lab rat sometimes but you know you’re being pampered

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

A Creature Most Unusual by JMilz: Draco Malfoy is on a mission. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger catches him in the act. When she sees that he has adopted a rather unusual magical creature, she becomes determined to make sure he takes care of it. Little does she know, the animal may hold her key to eternal glory . . . and a whirlwind romance. M, 9 Chapters, 24,460 Words

A Little More Alive, Far Less Lost by MGL_Dramione_Lover: After Draco's post-war trial, he finds himself attending his 8th year at Hogwarts with Hermione. As remorse and acceptance replace anger and hate, the old enemies begin a friendship that sparks into much more than they ever hoped for. Hermione's goal as Head Girl is to banish old prejudices and unite the school while Draco's only wish is to become a man worthy of her love. M, 22 Chapters, 84,823

A New Light by mithrilstarlight: Draco spent six years doing his best to keep his head down. Then he runs into Hermione Granger. Turns out, they actually have a lot in common.Chapters posted M/W/F. T, 18 Chapters, 33,876 Words

A Second Look by RiverWriter: Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look. M, 30 Chapters, 127,243 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet.But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

All You Want by senlinyu: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic. E, 36 Chapters, 172,651

apples & cream by LovesBitca8: She could have taken her things and gone through his Floo without a word. She could have ignored him on Monday morning, as though last night had been no more than a fever dream and too much Firewhisky. But she’d come back to bed. Inspired by the lovely NikitaJuice's "apples & cream." E, 1 Chapter, 1,426 Words

Beginning and End by mightbewriting: Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope. E, 48 Chapters, 242,100 Words

Bells on a Hill by HeyJude19: Left by his fiancée a month before the ceremony, Draco never got his dream wedding, so agreeing to assist Granger with her own wedding planning to distract himself from his broken engagement seems like a great idea—though Draco probably shouldn't fall in love with the bride-to-be. Based very (very) loosely on The Wedding Singer. T, WIP

Bending Light by scullymurphy: Draco Malfoy was in exile, though they called it protection. It was the summer after sixth year and he'd taken Dumbledore's offer, defected to the other side and been sent away to a small town in Italy for his troubles. No magic, few rules, and not a lot to do - until Hermione Granger showed up. M, WIP

Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words 

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione 

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mrs-gucci]

Gucci’s Girl [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. Apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. grinding. multiple orgasms. pretty vanilla sex.

(possible) tw’s: infidelity (he’s engaged, not married).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

“Y/N, will you stay after for a bit?”

Mr. Gucci walks over to your desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

You nod, smiling up at your boss.

“Of course, Mr. Gucci.”

Inside, you were panicking. 

He’s never asked you to stay after work before, except on your first day, which made sense.  But this doesn’t make sense… 

He returns the smile.

“Excellent. Just come to my office.”

You continue to work, faxing and typing away until the clock read five. 

Everyone else begins to pack up and bids you farewell as you make your way up to Mr. Gucci’s office.

The wooden door has never looked more intimidating than it does in this moment, as you raise your knuckles and knock.

“Entra in.” (Come in.)

You take a deep breath before you turn the handle, forcing a smile on your face.

He looks so scary and intimidating when he sits at his desk, a fact that, when you told him, made him laugh.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Come in, sit down.”

The chairs in his office are top-of-the-line, a refreshing change from the less-than luxurious chairs out on the floor.

Mr. Gucci lights a cigarette and takes a drag before standing up and walking around to take a seat in the chair next to you.

When he sees your confused expression, he laughs softly, taking another drag.

“I know you think I look scary sitting back there, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Your eyes go wide.

“O-Oh, that’s not what I meant—“

“I know, tesoro.”

He chuckles, eyes flickering over your face before he speaks again. 

“So, the annual House of Gucci Ball is coming up, as you know.”

You nod.

“And, I was wondering...would you want to...come with me?”

Your stomach drops.

“W-What?”

The CEO looks incredibly flustered and anxious, a new look for him.

“My fiancée isn’t feeling well and as the head of the House, I really don’t want to go alone…”

In a bold move, you reach out and gently place your hand over his. He looks up at you, and you smile.

“I’d, uhh, I’d love to go, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.”

The corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and his eyes dart away from yours as he takes another drag.

“I’ll have the company tailor come in tomorrow and take your measurements for a gown. And you’ll come here three hours beforehand in order to have hair and makeup done.”

You’re still partially in shock as he discusses dresses and makeup and hair. 

It’s become clear to you over the past few weeks that he has feelings for you, and you think they’re the same feelings that you have for him. 

But obviously, neither of you can act on them, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s set to be married in a few months, and there’s a very strict company policy that forbids relationships between workers and their supervisors.

So, it left this unresolved tension between the two of you, and you literally just agreed to spend an entire night at an event with him.

The reality hits and you feel lightheaded.

Oh my god, I’m going to the company ball with Maurizio Gucci.

Four Weeks Later

The elevator dings and you step out into the now-vacant office. You see several people standing around a portable salon setup, and they all turn to look at you.

“Miss Y/N?”

One of them asks.

You nod.

“Si.” (Yes.)

They quickly sit you down in the chair and begin applying makeup and doing your hair.

-

You’re tearing up a little bit as you look at yourself in the mirror. Clad in a long, form-fitting gown and in full hair and makeup, you look and feel like a princess.

The stylist hands you a small accent clutch and almost immediately after, the elevator dings, and Mr. Gucci steps out, clad in a snappy black suit, not unlike what he wears at work everyday. 

That man is never not in a suit, you’ve learned.

His eyes go wide as you step down from the small platform. Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze.

The stylist looks nervous as his eyes roam your figure. 

She speaks up a moment later, voice meek.

“Il vestito e il trucco soddisfano i suoi standard, signore?” (Does the dress and makeup meet your standards, sir?)

He tears his eyes away from you, and nods at the stylist.

“Ha superato le mie aspettative.” (It’s exceeded my expectations.)

You’re blushing madly now, unable to meet his eyes as you feel him looking at you again.

Soon, the stylist packs up and leaves just you and Mr. Gucci alone. 

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“You look...beautiful, absolutely beautiful, tesoro.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, absolutely starstruck by his handsomeness. He somehow manages to look better and more attractive every time you see him. 

“You’re too sweet, sir.”

He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. 

“Please, I’m Maurizio tonight.”

You nod, trying his name on your tongue. 

“Maurizio.”

Mr. Gucci smiles as he releases your hand.  “We have a few minutes before the car gets here...would you like some water? Espresso?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” You say. 

A few moments of sexually-charged silence lingers between you two.

“Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight.”

He says suddenly.

“I always enjoy our time together, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Me too.”

“Really? You do?”

Maurizio blushes slightly.

“It’s just...I’m an old man, you’re a young woman...”

You chuckle as you reach out to hold his hand.

“You’re not old, sir—Maurizio. And yes, really, I do enjoy our time together.”

“I’m glad.”

He says, eyes flicking down to your lips as he leans in a little bit.

Wait...what? Is he gonna… Fuck, oh god, this can’t happen...

Honk!

He flinches at the sound, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

“I guess the car is here.”

You chuckle nervously as he holds out his hand, and you take it, walking alongside him to the elevator. 

It’s a short drive to the hotel and when you two arrive, there are swarms of paparazzi, all crowding around the car when the driver pulls to the curb. 

Maurizio clearly sees your overwhelmed expression and tension, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 

“Don’t worry, tesoro. Just stay by my side and don’t answer any of their questions, yes?”

You nod and he gets out, walking around to open your door and help you out of the car. Immediately, when the press sees that you’re not his fiancée, the cameras flash even more rapidly and voices overlap one another. 

“Sei la nuova fidanzata di Maurizio?” (Are you Maurizio’s new girlfriend?)

“Maurizio, dov’e la tua fidanzata?” (Maurizio, where’s your fiancée?)

“Strumento a mano.” (Gold digger.)

“Puttana americana.” (American whore.)

They were all basically on top of you, asking so many questions and saying so many things about you, it was incredibly overwhelming.

Suddenly, Maurizio’s voice boomed through the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

“Lasciala in pace!” (Leave her alone!)

His arm wraps tighter around your waist, pressing you even further into his side as he walks you both into the building. The cameras and crowds were almost completely silent, still, and you were just trying to process it all as the two of you walked into the event, you still tucked into his side.

He stopped just inside the door and let you go, taking your hands instead, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

“Are you okay, tesoro? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

You shake your head, still trembling a little bit. 

“N-No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up.”

“They’re vicious and relentless...mi dispiace. I should’ve warned you about them beforehand, but I’m relieved that you’re okay.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s okay, Maurizio, really.”

You smile sadly.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He wraps an arm around you again, gently squeezing your hip before rubbing it lightly. 

“Of course, anything for mi tesoro. I’m indebted to you for joining me tonight.”

You’re blushing, eyes darting away from his. 

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. It’s an honor to accompany you, and I’m sorry that my presence caused so much trouble for you, with the press.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He smiles, eyes lingering on you for a moment before guiding you into the massive ballroom. 

You’re absolutely stunned by the beauty of it, the chandeliers glittering on the ceiling as they illuminate the entire room. 

Maurizio seems to notice your staring, and pauses as well, chuckling softly. 

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

You turn to him and nod, smiling. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Once you get inside and take your seats, Maurizio is immediately flocked with people wanting to speak with him. Some of them give you a judgemental glance or gaze, and you just look away, taking another sip of your wine. 

This is gonna be a long night.

-

Naturally, Maurizio has been talking to people nonstop all night, which was expected of course, but for some reason, you’d sort of hoped he’d make some time for just the two of you. You genuinely enjoy his company, he’s actually really kind and funny when he’s not in ‘work mode’. 

Why would he do that for you? You’re just his replacement date, Y/N, nothing more.

So, you sit back in your chair and casually nibble at the new dinner course that was put on your plates a few minutes ago. 

A dance song begins to play and suddenly, Maurizio stands up and holds his hand out for you. 

“Would you like to dance, mi tesoro?”

“Absolutely.”

You blush, biting your lip as you stand up.

He places his hand on the small of your back as you two walk onto the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck while he places his hands on your waist, holding you close as the two of you begin gently swaying to the slow tune. 

“It’s nice to step away from the table for a bit.”

He says, chuckling. 

“I only see these people once a year, so they always want to talk the night away.”

You laugh. 

“I understand, and I’m happy that I could provide an excuse for you to get away, even if only for a few minutes.”

“You’re anything but an excuse, Y/N.”

Maurizio says, blushing a bit. 

“I’ve been wanting to make some time to spend with you, but I haven’t gotten the opportunity. I’m sorry for that, this must be tedious for you.”

You shake your head. 

“No, it’s alright, although I do respect your fiancée much more now that I understand what happens at events like this.”

You jest, and he laughs.

“But, in all seriousness, I’m fine. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep me entertained, I understand my role for tonight.”

His face sinks ever so slightly, but he still smiles nonetheless. 

“I did hope to spend some time with you, though. Like I said, I enjoy spending time with you.”

The song suddenly ends and a much more upbeat one takes its place. 

Maurizio’s face seems to light up, and he smiles widely. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

You’re suddenly lifted up and spun around. You laugh the entire time and he continues spinning you. 

The whole world seems to fade and suddenly, it’s just you two on the dancefloor. 

Your eyes are glued on one another as he sets you back down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so genuinely. You briefly wonder how many of these moments he gets to have with his job.

You’re still laughing as he takes your hand and tries to twirl you around. He’s laughing along with you as you start to twirl, but you forgot how long your dress is, and you start to fall backwards.

A strong arm reaches down and scoops you up before you can hit the floor, and suddenly, you’re centimeters away from his face, his breath tickling your skin. 

He’s still smiling as he slowly stands back up with you in his arms. 

“Be careful, tesoro. We’re not taking any trips to the emergency room tonight, okay?”

You smile, unable to bring yourself to take your eyes off of him as you’re placed back onto your feet, his arm still around you, holding you close. 

You allow yourself, for the first time since your internship began, to take in all of his features. You let your eyes drink in his beauty and it feels like time has stopped. He’s even more handsome up-close, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his features. 

Before you know it, he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, his lips so close now.

“Voglio davvero baciarti, tesoro.” (I really want to kiss you right now, treasure.)

He whispers.

His voice is so deep, yet soft and full of yearning. It sends a chill down your spine.

“Non ti fermero, bello.” (I’m not going to stop you, handsome.)

“Bene.” (Good.)

He leans forward the rest of the way and your lips connect in a tender embrace. 

You close your eyes and let your hand reach up to cradle the side of his face. 

He soon pulls away, a face-splitting grin on his face. 

You’re wearing a similar expression.

“Mi chiedevo quando l’avresti finalmente fatto.” (I was wondering when you were finally going to do that.)

You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his slightly.

Maurizio laughs softly.

“Mi chiedevo quando avrei dovuto farlo anch’io.” (I was wondering when I was going to do it, as well.)

The moment is quickly ruined when you realize exactly where you are, and you’re afraid to know how many people saw that. You quickly stand up straight and so does he, both of you taking a small step away from each other as you straighten yourselves out. 

When you turn back towards the table, all of the people stare right at you, and you feel your face get hot. You look up at Maurizio when he comes up beside you.

“I think I’ll just catch a cab back to the house…”

You say, looking down.

He looks over at the table, seeing his work colleagues giving you judgemental glares. His finger gently lifts your chin until you’re looking up at him again.

“Let me take you back, tesoro. It’s the least I can do, and we can talk about...everything.”

You nod. 

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Maurizio shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that in such a public space.”

Your cheeks get warmer. 

“Are you saying that you still would’ve done it?”

His cheeks go pink as he looks away. 

“Yes, I still would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

Is this real?

He clears his throat, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“Why don’t you go up to the front while I retrieve our stuff from the table? I’ll make sure that no one says anything or thinks poorly of you.”

“Thank you.”

You say, smiling. 

“I’ll get them to call us a cab.”

He’s at the table for about five minutes while you wait by the door, anxious for what’s to come. 

“Sorry, mi tesoro, they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t leave early. But, I insisted on seeing you safely back to your house.”

“If you need to stay…”

You begin, but are quickly stopped.

“No, I’m going with you.”

You’re so flattered that he would leave the biggest company party of the year just for you. You.

The cab arrives shortly after and you two walk out into the warm Italian night air, hopping into the car. His hand rests gently on your thigh as the car pulls away from the curb. 

He sighs.

“I’m sorry that I got you involved in this. My life is...complicated, especially as someone constantly under the public eye.”

You don’t even want to ask this next question, but you have to.

“Maurizio, are you still engaged?”

His head turns away to look out the window.

“I’m not sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, you aren’t sure? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Patrizia left me last night and she hasn’t come back.”

He says, choking up a bit.

You gently put your hand over his and he looks over at you.

“I’m really sorry, that’s...terrible. Did she say why?”

“I told her that I was taking you tonight, and she got upset.”

He sighed. 

“She asked me if I had feelings for you, since I talk to her about you almost every day…”

“You talk about me?”

Maurizio smiles softly, nodding. “Of course I do. Ever since you’ve been here, the office has been...happier. I’ve been happier.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to freak out over what you’re hearing.

“S-So, when she asked you if you had feelings for me...what did you tell her?”

He turns fully to the side, bringing a hand up to cup your face.

“Le ho detto la verita, che mi sono sentito per te sin dal primo giorno in cui sei entrato in ufficio.” (I told her the truth, that I’ve felt for you since the first day you walked into the office.)

You can’t help but smile as your face warms again, eyes darting away from his as he continues.

“Sono un uomo migliore con te nella mia vita, tesoro.” (I’m a better man with you in my life, treasure.)

“Maurizio, I…”

You begin, trying to find the right words.

“Lo so che non dovrei, ma mi sento anche per te.” (I know I shouldn’t, but I feel for you, too.)

He smiles, leaning in closer.

“Qual e la ragione dell-amore senza rischi?” (What is the point of love without risk?)

This time, you close the gap between your lips. His other hand comes to hold your face as you kiss, so much passion and want in every movement of your lips together. 

You move closer, legs draping over his lap.

Just as you make a move to sit on his lap, the cab pulls up to your house, forcing you apart.

Both of you are panting softly, eyes staring deep into each other’s.

“Tesoro, ti prego, faccio l’amore stasera.” (Treasure, please, let me make love to you tonight.)

He leans in and crashes your lips together again, this kiss filled with urgency, with lust, with need.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Ti voglio. Ho bisogno di te, per favore.” (I want you. I need you, please.)

Maurizio smiles, paying the driver before quickly hopping out of the car, rushing around to let you out. As soon as you step out, you’re swept up off your feet and carried bridal-style to the front door. You unlock the door and he quickly closes it with his foot. 

You reach up and begin planting kisses on his neck, enjoying the way he sighs softly. 

“Which one is yours?”

He asks, breathily.

“Upstairs, the loft.”

He makes his way up the small flight of stairs. 

“Is anyone else here?”

You nod. “They’re all on the first floor.”

Maurizio hums, gently placing you down on the bed before shedding his suit coat, hanging it on your desk chair, followed by his tie. He takes off his loafers and socks, placing them beneath his other clothes.

You’d barely gotten your heels off at the point. He laughs when he turns around and sees you struggling to get the shoes off. He quickly pulls it off and tosses it on the floor, holding your foot while he kisses your ankle and calf. 

He takes a moment to look at you laid back on the bed, once neatly done hair loosened, makeup a bit smudged. His lips pulled up into a smile, teeth playfully scraping at your ankle bone. 

“You have too much on, mi tesoro.”

You smile, standing up and turning away from him, silently asking him to unbutton and unzip your dress. He steps up behind you, breaths hot on your neck as his fingers work the buttons. 

His lips begin planting kisses on your shoulders, soon undoing the zipper, freeing you from the dress. You step out and stand before him in just your underwear, looking away as his eyes rake over your figure. 

Your cheeks grow hotter when you look down to see the tent growing in his dress pants.

“Etereale.” (Ethereal.)

He mutters, fingers working the buttons of his shirt, gently tossing it with his other clothes before working at the buckle on his belt. 

“Formidabile.” (Gorgeous.)

The leather belt was soon tossed onto the growing pile of clothing. He unbuttons his pants before stepping forward again, now almost right up against you. 

His hand wraps around your wrist and brings your palm to the tent in his pants, growling softly when it touches. He leaned forward, lips at your ear.

“For you, tesoro. All for you.”

You shudder as his lips plant kisses all over your neck while his hands roam your bare body, fingers teasing your breasts.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He breathes, hands squeezing your breasts gently. 

“When was the last time someone touched you like this, hm?”

“It’s been a w-while.”

You say, gasping when his thumb rolls over your pebbled nipple. 

“O-Oh…”

Maurizio grins, placing one more kiss on your neck before standing up straight, tugging his pants and boxers down. You watch in amazement when his length bobs as it’s exposed, mouth watering at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you see something you like?”

“Absolutely.”

You reply, biting your lip. 

He laughs softly. 

“Well...would you like to touch it?”

His cheeks flush pink. 

You nod, reaching to wrap your hand around the base. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and he sucks in a breath when you begin stroking.

“Mmmmm, davvero buono.” (so good.)

His head falls back when you increase your pace, hips gently rutting forward. His eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead, small moans escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as his length stirs at the loss of contact.

“You are too good at that, mi tesoro.”

He bites his lip, fingertips teasing the lace waistband of your panties.

“May I touch you now?”

You nod, jumping softly when he all but tears the material down your legs, exposing your folds. He reaches down and cups your center, eyes widening when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh,”

He whispers, fingers tracing up to rub your clit.

“Tesoro...you’re so excited already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your hips suddenly buck forward out of instinct, and Maurizio chuckles breathily, rubbing a bit faster. You gasp, breath catching in your throat. 

“S-Shit.”

You allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure, head falling forward onto his chest. The small noises falling from your lips get increasingly louder as you draw closer and closer to release. 

His fingers suddenly push up into you, and you almost cum right on the spot. His digits feel so much better than yours as they begin plunging in and out, scissoring occasionally. 

“Lasciatemi prendere, tesoro, e ti acchiappero.” (Let go for me, treasure, and I will catch you.)

He whispers breathily, stroking faster. 

“Andiamo.” (Let go.)

His fingers curl up inside of you, and after a few rubs on your g-spot, you’re coming with a soft cry. 

“Maurizio...oh mio dio…” (Maurizio...oh my god…)

Your knees buckle and you begin to fall, but he catches you immediately, smiling down at you as his fingers continue to work you through your climax. He leans over to kiss you again, slowly and gently pulling his fingers out. 

“Lay back, mi tesoro, and open your legs.”

He whispers against your lips, standing back up straight as you sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back. 

You spread my legs, ready to receive him, and he smiles as he climbs on top of you. He’s still wearing his glasses, and while you find that humorous and quite frankly cute, it’s also incredibly arousing for some reason. You don’t dwell on it, wanting to focus on the moment unfolding before your eyes. 

Maurizio strokes his hardened length a few times, grunting softly, before rubbing himself across your folds. His eyes shut and he takes a shaky breath as your slick spreads across his cock. He starts pressing and rubbing the tip against your clit for a bit, smirking when your hips buck up against him.

He looks down at you, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Are you ready? I’ll go slow for you, tesoro.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, growling softly. He shivers, stopping when he’s about halfway in.

“Is it still okay?”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hips forward while you scoot closer, pushing him in the rest of the way.

“D-Does that answer your question?”

You chuckle.

He laughs breathily, nodding. 

“Indeed, it does.”

You take deep breaths while you adjust to his size, soon nodding, letting him know that it’s okay for him to move. He pulls about halfway out before pushing back in again, exhaling loudly as he establishes a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. 

“O-Oh, cazzo, sei fantastico.” (Oh, fuck, you feel amazing.)

Your jaw hangs open, body bouncing with each of his inward thrusts. You hold onto his biceps for dear life as his pace increases ever so slightly. 

“Maurizio,”

You breathe, looking up into his eyes. 

“Keep going, please.”

The bed squeaks as his hips’ movements grow more desperate. 

“Tesoro, I--cazzo--I’m not going to last.” (fuck)

He says, eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I h-haven’t done this--merda--in a w-while.” (shit)

You nod in understanding, moving your hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“It’s okay, M-Maurizio, it’s alright.”

His eyes meet yours as he growls softly, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s n-not. You deserve better, t-the best, Y/N.”

Your thumb swipes on his cheekbone as his eyes tear up with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

“Y-You already are the best, bello, and I w-want you to cum, no m-matter if I have o-or not. I want you to p-pleasure yourself, okay? Don’t worry about m-me.” (handsome)

He smiles softly, falling onto his elbows, lips connecting with yours as he thrusts get harder. He grunts deeply with each thrust, breath hot and heavy on the side of your neck.

“Oh tesoro, I’m...close. Where…”

He searches for the right words, mind clouded with lust. He groans in frustration.

“Dove vuoi che sborra?” (Where do you want me to cum?)

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. 

“Sono sulla pillola. Puoi sborra dentro, se vuoi, bello.” (I’m on the pill. You can cum inside, if you want, handsome.)

These words seem to awaken something in him, his eyes going black, hips suddenly rutting quickly and desperately into you. 

“Cazzo, sei incredibile, sei perfetto, tesoro.” (Fuck, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, treasure.)

Maurizio buries his face into the crook of your neck as he reaches climax, moans and gasps muffled by your skin. He buries his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls with his release, rutting them desperately as he fills you up.

“Y/N, oh dio, prendi tutto per me. Bene, sei bravissima, mi tesoro.” (Y/N, oh god, take it all for me. Good, you’re so good, my treasure).

As soon as he finishes, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in circles, eyes meeting yours.

“C’mon, let me pleasure you now. Let go, tesoro, give yourself to me.”

Your back arches and your hips grind against his fingers, mouth full of whimpers, whines, and gasps as his fingers rub you. You grab onto his bicep when you cum, looking up into his eyes. 

“Yes, oh Maurizio, yes!”

You gasp, moaning softly as your release spreads throughout your body.

He continues to rub you through it, cock twitching slightly where it still sits inside of you, causing him to growl softly. 

After both of you take a moment to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, and you can see that he’s already hard again. He blushes, looking away for a moment.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s never happened before…”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Maurizio, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually sort of flattering, that I can do that to you.”

He smiles softly, laying down next to you, pulling you back against him. You didn’t realize exactly how hard he actually was until you felt him pressed against your back, and you felt bad.

“Do you…I mean, I can...”

You trail off, a bit embarrassed, hoping he got the point.

Maurizio immediately shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, don’t worry. I will be okay.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip before you speak.

“If you wanted to, you could...rub it against me.”

You feel his member twitch at your proposition, and you turn around in his arms, looking up at him. His cheeks are bright red.

“Will you show me?”

He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding. 

“All you have to do is start moving your hips against me, using my skin to rub on.”

He experimentally rolls his hips, jaw clenched as he tries to contain himself. 

“O-Oh.”

He tried it again, growling as his cock dragged along your stomach.

“Tesoro, it’s…”

You can’t pretend that this isn’t incredibly arousing for you to watch and feel. His tip was already red and leaking, so you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Does it feel good, Maurizio?”

You feel him nod, hips moving faster now as he looks down at you. 

“Yes, cristo, it’s s-so good.” (christ)

His lips crash onto yours and he loops an arm behind you, holding you still as he begins rutting against you, growling into your mouth. He moves his head down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“Your s-skin is so soft, mi tesoro.”

He whispers, grunting with each forward motion now. 

His leg lifts up and lays over your hip, allowing him to thrust harder, hand still on your lower back. He’s close, you can tell, and you attentively watch the way his face contorts as he reaches orgasm. 

He suddenly hugs you tight, a choked sob against your neck as his seed spills all over your stomach and his.

“Ah! Ah--oh--cristo!” (christ)

You run your hands through his hair soothingly as he comes down, trembling slightly. He slides down your body a bit, resting his head between your breasts, kissing them gently. 

After a short while, he looks up at you. 

“Grazie, Y/N, grazie mille.” (Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.)

You smile. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Maurizio, it was my pleasure.”

He reaches up and connects your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss before he pulls away, cringing when he feels the stickiness between you. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’ve never...that’s never…”

You kiss him again, cutting him off.

“No worries, we can just clean it off. I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

You stand and come back a moment later with a wet washcloth, reaching down to wipe yourself off before Maurizio’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. 

“Let me.”

He smiles, taking the cloth from your hand, cleaning up the sticky substance before doing the same to himself. 

Your cheeks are warm as you look up at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, mi tesoro.”

He suddenly looks away, frowning softly. 

“I-I can’t stay tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry. If someone catches us…”

You shake your head, holding the side of his face.

“No, no need to explain. I understand.”

Maurizio nods silently, sighing as he begins to redress. You slip your panties back on, along with an oversized t-shirt and you pull your hair up into a ponytail. 

When he’s ready, you offer to go first, in case anyone’s still awake. He agrees, and you make your way down the stairs, looking around, not seeing anyone. You look up the stairs and nod, indicating that it’s okay. He makes his way down and you walk with him to the door. 

“Do you have a car coming?”

He nods. “My driver is already outside.”

There’s a moment of silence before Maurizio suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you against him as his lips crash down onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of longing. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down closer. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open. 

“Alla prossima, tesoro.” (Until next time, my treasure.)

You smile, biting your lip as he sneaks out the door, rushing down and hopping into the car waiting for him. 

As you watch his car pull away from the curb, only one thought occupies your mind:

Holy shit, I just slept with Maurizio Gucci.

[electronswrites]

@spocksbedsidemanner and I came up with some great headcannons about the dark!Lu Ten verse, and I thought they were too good not to share. With her permission, below I have transcribed our conversation, because I am too lazy to rewrite it into a cohesive narrative. I'm E, and she is S.

E: I've got this headcannon that in Fire Nation culture children are seen as extensions of their parents. Parents get the praise of their children's accomplishments, and children pay the price of parent's mistakes.

S: Yes, yes, yes, I think that makes total sense for them, given their characterization they seem very about their legacy and lineage, esp Ozai w/ usurping the throne, and when he declares himself the phoenix king w/ Azula as just an extension of himself as firelord. He doesn't really think of her as her own person. Probs didn't think of Lu Ten as more than a solid claim for Iroh for the throne.

E: Exactly! When Lu Ten died, a piece of Iroh died, making him "weaker" and "less worthy."

S: Children of the royal family? Having their own drive and humanity separate of their parents' legacy? In MY Fire Nation? It's more likely than you think 👀

Yesss exactly, I think that's why the fire nation was so readily accepting of Ozai's story that Azulon toootally revoked Iroh's title and bestowed it on Ozai, before kicking the bucket. Definitely totally happened exactly like that, don't question it, it's not like he had a son or a wife for his legacy anymore, shhhh… Like, it can't all just be fear of Ozai right? It must have made sense to the people somehow.

E: Pretty much. The line must continue. Iroh lost his son and the siege. Ozai has two children. It makes just enough sense to quiet dissenters. I imagine there's a famous play in the Fire Nation about a man who commits treason and his entire family is killed, even his newborn baby. Zuko tells the GAang about the play to explain why Iroh won't have a choice but to kill him.

S: Oooh yes, that'd make sense too. It's just the logical next step, it's a natural consequence of his father's treason being brought to justice, of course his uncle must eliminate him if he finds him, it's how it has to be. He would feel bad for his sister i bet, even if she did shoot him with lightning in that 'what if' you posted Poor Zuko 💜💜

E: "Yeah. Once the war is over my uncle will have to execute me publicly. It's tradition." *Shrug.* "Who wants tea?"

S: Omg lol. Yep. So straightforward.

Well, since it's inevitable, why spend unnecessary time struggling with it? Let's go train, he needs to give the Avatar as much time training in firebending as he can before they go defeat Ozai and his own execution afterwards. It was nice spending as much time as he gets with them in their group 💛

E: Katara: Thank you fellow members of Operation: Save Zuko From His Horrible Family. Today we'll be going over a few options.

Sokka: Option one, take him to the South Pole and keep him forever.

Toph: Option two, take him to the Earth Kingdom where it isn't so COLD and keep him forever.

Aang: Option three, keep him on Appa forever.

Katara: We have many good options.

S: What excellent options i am sure kidnapping Zuko to protect him will go entirely smoothly and have zero mishaps. I'm personally voting for Appa, the Goodest Boy. If he just lives on Appa forever he can get closer to the SUN which is a thing that he needs, isn't that wonderful?

E: Literally that's Aang's argument to him.

"But honor demands I be executed!"

"Fuck. Your. Honor."

"Did Aang just... curse?"

S: Aaaaaaaa yesssss!! I feel for the gaang, it'd take a lot to get him to not feel that he MUST be executed for justice to be served, he's so ready to blame himself as a failure already bc of Ozai's abuse >_<

E: Now I'm imagining them actually smuggling him to the South Pole after the battle before Iroh can arrive to apologize to/reassure him. Maybe they tell Iroh he died to keep him safe. Zuko goes hunting with Sokka, bending practice with Katara, penguin sledding with Aang. It's so fun and wholesome. Eventually the truth gets out and Iroh feels SO MUCH relief & guilt. He wonders whether it's better for Zuko to go find him and apologize or let him go so he can feel safe. 😭😭

S: Yes! They have no way of knowing that Iroh would never hurt Zuko, just Zuko's word on how things are in the Fire Nation, so it's just safer to somehow get information to Iroh that Zuko died in the battle. Wholesome found family hijinks ensue 💜💜

Either way once Iroh finds out i bet he would want to see him, if only from a distance, just to see him alive and happy playing in the snow with his friends! Could be the catalyst for some progressive new policies, and protections put in place to protect the lives of children and families of criminals. Never let there be a kid like Zuko again, thinking that they have to die bc of their terrible dad.

E: 🥺🥺 Now I'm imagining Iroh standing on top of a snow hill, just watching the village. Zuko is sitting with Katara and Sokka's family (Gran-Gran forgave him immediately) eating some octocaribou he helped kill. Aang is munching on the vegetarian sides while telling a story that's making Zuko laugh. His cheeks are rosy and full. He looks so comfortable and at peace.

Iroh remembers how tense Zuko was in Ba Sing Se, how his shoulders were always hunched up to his ears. Iroh's eyes fill with tears. His guilt chokes him.

He goes home and immediately starts drafting new laws. He also commissions a talented playwright to create a new version of that stupid play that pushes the moral of mercy and kindness.

S: YES 💜💜💜 *cries*

Aang being the Avatar, i bet they'd have to see each other at some official world peace functions or whatever at some point. Iroh doesn't want to outright say anything in case Zuko hears of it and feels obligated to come back if he doesn't actually want to (if he could ever forgive Iroh...), but he makes some comment to Aang about ~if~ Zuko were still alive, he would wish to tell him how much he loves him and wanted him to be happy, however that happiness would look for him, with Iroh in it or without…

E: *Gif of the tenth Doctor getting all melodramatic about radiation poisoning captioned as "I'm in a glass case of emotion!"* Iroh is in the Earth Kingdom for FL business when he's invited to dine with the prestigious Beifong family. While there he talks to Toph about his nephew. He gives a passionate speech about what a good person Zuko was, how honorable, how kind, ect… He talks about the new laws he passed to protect kids like Zuko. He gets really emotional at one point and starts crying. He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Zuko. At first he can't believe Zuko is really there. Then he pulls him into a hug and starts sobbing. He begs for forgiveness. Zuko starts crying too. This isn't what he expected. He says he loves his uncle and never blamed him. They hug and cry while the GAang watches.

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence 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.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know. 

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you. 

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed. 

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming. 

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk. 

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall. 

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office. 

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints.  You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.” 

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now. 

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?” 

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.” 

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about. 

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out. 

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you. 

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,” 

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger. 

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within. 

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality. 

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud. 

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier. 

But it never came. 

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints. 

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name. 

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll. 

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or -  Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted. 

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

[headcanonsandmore]

“Breaktime At The Ministry”

Summary: Hermione finds herself working into the early hours of the morning. Luckily, Ron is there to make sure she is rewarded for her efforts. (A fic to celebrate Hermione’s birthday)

(Warning, this fic contains scenes of a s*xual nature and is not ace safe)

                                                     Read on AO3.

This fic contains: cunnilingus, doggystyle, cowgirl style, office s*x, and some mild allusions to food k*nk.

~~~~~~~~

Bloody typical, it was!

Hermione Granger-Weasley was not in the habit of swearing, but sometimes she couldn’t help it.

It was night-time, at the ministry. Hermione glowered down at the stacks of papers on her desk that she had been sorting through. Even by her standards, this was too much. As a teenager, she would have probably enjoyed this. But, after spending two decades married to a certain wonderful redhead, Hermione had long since stopped enjoying working herself to the bone that much.

God, she wished she was at home. Aside from a few apricots obtained from the café before it closed, Hermione hadn’t eaten in over six hours. Normally, she would be at home, enjoying a quiet Saturday night in, perhaps cuddling in bed with Ron after an excellent lasagne he had cooked from scratch.

But, no, she had been called into the office on short notice. Apparently, there had been a sudden development in a high-profile case, and no-one else in the department with her level of authority was available.

Still, she was almost finished now.

Signing one last paper, Hermione placed it on the desk. Yawning, she rose to her feet, and began to place each paper into the safe set against the wall. Given the amount, this sadly took longer than she would have normally liked.

Finally, she placed the last one inside, and closed the safe door.

Hermione gave another yawn, and locked the safe with a flick of her wand.

‘Ms Granger-Weasley?’

Hermione’s head shot upwards to the door. She knew that voice anywhere.

‘Ron!’

In an instant, she’d crossed the room, and threw her arms around him in a hug. She gave a contented sigh as she leaned into his frame, breathing in his signature Ron scent. He smelled of home. Of baked goods, cuddles on the sofa, and of late night misadventures.

‘I missed you,’ she murmured, as they leaned against her desk. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Missed you too, love,’ he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her bushy hair. He had placed a large box on the desk. ‘Honestly, of all days for you to get called into work. Still, at least you’ve finished in time.’

‘In time?’ Hermione asked, looking up at him. ‘In time for what?’

Ron chuckled.

‘It’s now the Nineteenth of September. Your birthday.’

‘What?’ Hermione exclaimed, suddenly turning to look at the clock on the wall. Sure enough, midnight had just struck. ‘I’m…’

Her shoulders slumped.

‘I’m older.’

‘Hey, what’s with that tone?’ Ron said, his mouth quirking into his signature lop-sided grin.

‘I’m the oldest one out of our friends!’ she said, miserably. ‘I was born in the seventies, Ron!’

‘Only by a few months!’ Ron chuckled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘You’re barely six months older than me.’

‘Still-’

‘And I seem to recall you having no issues with me getting older.’

‘That’s because you get hotter as you get older!’

Ron’s blue eyes twinkled, and he leaned forward so that he was right up close to her ear.

‘Well,’ he whispered, the tone of his voice sending shivers down Hermione’s neck. ‘Whoever said the same thing wasn’t happening to you too?’

‘V-very funny,’ Hermione stammered, feeling her face flush. Even after almost two decades of marriage, she still found herself shocked that Ron was able to have this effect on her. ‘You’re a tall, handsome redhead. I’m-’

‘Bloody gorgeous,’ Ron whispered. ‘You being a year older isn’t gonna change how mind-bogglingly in love with you I am.’

Ron’s lips met hers, and she found herself clinging to him as their kisses lingered and became emboldened. It was blissful oblivion. Pure and simple. The outside world disappeared. There was only Hermione and the man who loved her.

Eventually, Hermione pulled away, breathlessly.

‘How about you take the weight off your feet, love?’ Ron breathed. ‘You’ve earned it after working so hard.’

With a happy squeal, Hermione found herself lifted off the ground, and placed softly into her desk chair.

‘Why would I need to-’

Hermione’s voice cut off as Ron dropped to his knees before her, his hands sneaking with expert care up her legs to the top of her skirt. His fingers curled around both the pencil skirt and the knickers beneath.

‘R-Ron,’ Hermione stammered, feeling heat begin to pool around her centre. ‘W-We’re in my office…’

‘I know,’ Ron murmured. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘W-well, no… but what if someone turns up?’

Without a word, Ron pulled his wand from his pocket, and pointed it over his shoulder at the door. He was so tall that he didn’t even to reach up high.

Hermione heard the lock in the door click, and the unmistakable buzzing sound that came with a ‘muffliato’ charm.

‘You were saying?’

‘W-well… I… I suppose there isn’t any harm in it-OOOOH…’

She slipped downwards in the chair as Ron’s hand pulled down on her skirt and knickers, the material sliding down her legs. Ron promptly threw them both over his shoulder.

‘You won’t be needing them for a while,’ he growled, as he pulled the chair closer to him. The coolness of the air on her bare skin, as well as the feel of the leather against her bare arse, was oddly thrilling.

‘R-Ron…’ Hermione breathed. ‘D-don’t leave me hanging here…’

The redhead smirked, the desire in his blue eyes encouraged by the soft tremble in his wife’s voice. Ron’s hands began to skim along Hermione’s thighs, sending shivers along her body. The heat in her centre grew stronger, and Hermione found herself perspiring.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it, love.’

‘T-then p-please-oooohhhhh….’

Ron had leaned forward, and his tongue had begun to explore.

Hermione’s legs wrapped around Ron’s head, as her brain began to discombobulate. She was vaguely aware of how constricting her blouse seemed to be as her chest heaved. Her eyes had long since fluttered shut, but she could feel Ron’s mouth still fixed in a grin against her centre.

‘Oooh… f-fuck… Ron… oh, god…’

One of Ron’s hands began to explore further up her body, his fingers skimming over her blouse. With a quick flick of his fingers, the buttons were undone. His hand came to rest on her left breast, fondling her through the lace bra she was wearing. The heat was now roaring through Hermione’s body, concentrating every atom of her being on the pleasure that was emanating from her centre.

‘R-Ron… I’m… almost…’

Ron chuckled against her, and Hermione let out a breathy gasp.

‘Do it, love,’ Ron whispered. ‘Fuck, I love you…’

Her body gave one last tremble, and Hermione felt her orgasm erupt. Her limbs sprawled out as the full force of her ecstasy rolled over her, pulsing through her being over and over again.

Gasping, she fell back against the chair.

‘Merlin, ‘Mione,’ Ron breathed, emerging from under her skirt. ‘You’re so beautiful…’

He climbed to his feet, and leaned forward, kissing her softly on the mouth. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, still half-dazed. God, Ron knew just what buttons to push with her, and Hermione was not complaining!

‘R-Ron…’

Ron’s eyes glinted in the candlelight as he stared down at her.

‘‘Mione…’

With a growl, Ron pulled Hermione to her feet, wrapped his arms around her waist as he pressed their lips together. Hermione shivered as she felt his girth throb against her stomach.

‘Someone’s excited,’ she whispered, against his lips.

‘Can you blame me?’ Ron growled, his hands now fondling her arse cheeks. ‘Merlin, ‘Mione, you drive me wild…’

Ron’s expert hands rose up her back, and a few seconds later her blouse dropped to the floor. Ron’s shirt and trousers quickly followed. Hermione felt her centre grow hotter as Ron’s pectoral muscles flexed before her. God, why was he so sexy?

‘Been a while since I was naked in the office’ she said, as Ron’s hands undid the clasp of her bra. The lacy item joined the rest of Hermione’s clothes on the floor. The reaction from Ron’s nether regions was immediate, and Hermione felt her breathing continue to grow heavier.

‘Must be at least a year,’ the redhead replied, his eyes glinting as he stared down at her. ‘Shame we can’t make this a routine.’

Ron picked his wand up where he had left in on the desk, and cast a non-verbal spell. The tell-tale signs of the contraception charm washed over them, leaving a brief purple light that disappeared after a few seconds.

‘I’m… I’m the head of the department,’ Hermione gasped, pulling down on Ron’s black boxer-briefs. ‘I can’t make a habit of shagging my husband in office hours.’

‘True,’ Ron replied, kissing her neck as he stepped out the offending material pooled around his ankles. ‘But we’re not in office hours, Hermione. And speaking of shagging…’

With a deep growl, Ron spun Hermione around, so that she was pressed up against her desk. One of his hands reached around her, closing around her left breast. Ron’s lips met hers once again, and Hermione found herself pressing her arse up against Ron’s girth.

‘Do it,’ she gasped, reaching up to wrap her fingers into Ron’s hair. ‘Make love to me, Ron.’

Ron surged forward, and Hermione was struck by the familiar sensation of being filled. The heat pulsing through her body grew more intense by the moment, as Ron continued to buck against her.

‘F-fuck,’ Ron growled, into her ear. ‘‘Mione…’

‘Ron…’

Their lips met again, and Hermione moaned against him. God, this was wonderful. Even after so many years of marriage, the attraction between them never seemed to diminish. If anything, it had deepened and developed over time, forming a bedrock of love and affection that had seem them through so much.

‘Ron…’

‘H-Hermione,’ Ron moaned, ‘The chair…’

Turning around, Ron pulled Hermione with him. Stumbling slightly. he sat down in the leather office chair, and Hermione bestraddled his lap, moving around so that she was facing him. Their lips met again, as their bodies began to buck against each other. One of Ron’s freckled hands became entangled in her bushy hair, while the other was busy fondling her arse. She could already feel it beginning to pinken.

‘I… I love you, Hermione,’ Ron gasped, his breathing ragged and intense. ‘No matter h-how old we get. You understand?’

Hermione nodded, her heart beating faster with the welling of emotion within her. Lust mixed with the sheer love she had for her husband.

‘Mione…’

‘Ron… g-god, I’m…’

‘M-me too… can… can I…?’

‘Y-yes! Do it… Ron… oooohhhh!’

Their bodies gave one last motion, and their orgasms hit. Hermione’s limbs flailed, and she fell against Ron’s chest, gasping for breath.

‘Merlin, I love you, Hermione,’ Ron breathed, his voice less ragged. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, Ron,’ she replied, kissing him on the lips. ‘So much.’

After their breathing had slowly calmed, they sat up in Hermione’s office chair, and cuddled against each-other, enjoying the feeling of just being with the other.

‘Do you mind if we have a slow day after we get home?’ Hermione said. ‘I could use a nice lie-in. Unless you had anything planned?’

‘That sounds good to me. Although, before we leave for home…’

Ron clicked his fingers, and his wand leapt from the desk into his hand. He then summoned the large box that he had been carrying earlier. He opened it, and Hermione was immediately aware of a sugary scent.

‘You brought cake?’

‘You were working into the early hours, Hermione,’ Ron said, cutting a couple of slices with his wand and then handing one to her. ‘I knew you probably hadn’t eaten in ages. And, well, it is your birthday cake.’

‘You’re so sweet,’ she said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Ron smiled at her, and the two of them began to leisurely eat.

‘So…’ Ron asked, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shoulder. ‘Do you feel a bit better about being a year older?’

Hermione smiled, coyly.

‘Maaybe,’ she replied, her finger running up and down Ron’s thigh. ‘Although I could probably use a little more persuading.’

Slowly and deliberately, Ron scooped a large part of cream off his slice of cake, and began to daub it down Hermione’s chest. Hermione felt her centre began to heat up once again, as Ron’s mouth twisted into his signature lop-sided grin.

‘I think that can be arranged.’

~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; hope you liked it!