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auroralwriting · 6 months ago

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illicit affairs

chapter three

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

tony's mad, bucky's curious, you're questioning where you belong

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

series masterlist

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony spat as he angrily paced around the room. "Some moron paid off Quill and his gang to not fuck up The Avengers!"

"I knew we should've gone Hydra," Rhodey clicked his tongue as he looked up from scrolling on his phone.

Tony shook his head, "When I find the person who did this, I'll fuck them up myself."

Your brother's words made you increasingly nervous. It was you who paid off Quill. At least he didn't snitch that it was you. It still didn't help your nerves to see how upset Tony was.

"It was a bad idea anyways," Clint interrupted. He quickly retracted his words as Tony grabbed his collar, "Only because we should've done it ourselves!"

Bruce sighed, "We can't do anything too rash, otherwise The Asgardians won't help us."

"He's right," Vision confirmed, "They like peace until they're the ones to disrupt it. The minute we cross any lines, they're out of the picure. Bye-bye, Brooklyn."

"Kiddo, what're you thinking?" Tony called to you. You just noticed how you were picking at your skin.

With a shrug, you answered. "I'm just not a fan of all of this."

"Well they're all lying, pompous, pieces of shit." Tony scoffed. "They deserve all of this."

"But why?" You asked. The silence in the room was so much, you could've heard the dust flying around.

Tony pointed to the door, "Get out. Go home."

"But-"

"No! Go the fuck home," Tony yelled as you grabbed your bag and left the small HQ to head back to your apartment, wondering what you's said to make him that angry.

"What's on your mind, Buck?" Steve asked his friend as the two of them sat in the bar. It was always pretty empty during the day. It was the two of them, a couple in the cafe, and Coulson cleaning up.

Bucky shrugged, "Nothin',"

"I know that look, it's not nothing. Come on, I won't judge you." Steve pushed. "Is it about the Stark girl?"

"I just.. don't know how to place her," Bucky admitted. "Stark's such an ass, but she's just-"

"Sweet?" Steve offered.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, real fuckin' sweet. I mean, she could've got her ass kicked for us last night. I just don't get why she's bein' so nice when Tony's over there brainwashing her."

"I highly doubt he's doing that," Steve mused. "She wasn't around during the fallout. There's a good chance she doesn't even know what all of this is about, or you." Bucky felt his heart drop just a little when Steve added that last part. Truly, he'd never meant for Howard and Maria to get killed. He didn't know it was them transporting millions of dollars in art, otherwise he would've kept his mouth shut. "She really does seem to have a good brain in that head of hers."

"What are you thinking?" Bucky asked, watching as Steve's face twisted into that look he got when he got some brilliant idea.

Steve shrugged, "Maybe we invite her for drinks as a thank you."

"You think Stark-"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Steve cut Bucky off abruptly. "She's not his property. Let's give her a choice."

Bucky gave a soft sigh knowing Steve wasn't going to back off his idea. "Ask the others, let's see what they think."

"Already on it, Buck."

How could Tony just kick you out like that?

What could you have said that was so bad that your own brother would kick you out?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sprawled out on your couch, a long, deep sigh pouring from your lips. It was only six and it felt like the longest day in the world. Not to mention your sub-group chat without Tony was blowing up your phone. You had to mute it to shut them up. All they were rambling about was if The Guardians idea was really the right one.

Clint had texted you as well. He asked if you knew who called off Quill. It was clear by his tone he already knew it was you. Clint always knew the sneaky things you did without Tony knowing. He kept things quiet. You liked Clint the most.

A strong knock shook you from your thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, unless maybe Clint came over to question you further since you didn't respond to his texts.

You walked up to the door and opened it, shock filling your body when you saw Steve standing there.

"Steve," You breathed, unsure of what else to say.

"Hey, Stark." Steve gave a soft smile. He looked behind you and into your apartment, reminding you to let him in. You opened the door further and scooted out of his way so he could walk in. "Small place," He commented as he looked around.

"Big enough for one person," You countered, a smile playing at your lips. Steve wasn't here for trouble. "I would ask how you know where I live, but.."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we've all got our connections." He took a seat at the small bar-stool you had at your counter. "Pretty early to be sitting around at home."

You looked at your clothes, glancing down to realize you were in full sweats. "Yeah, Tony and I got in a disagreement today. Kinda spoiled the mood."

"What about?" Steve asked, genuine curiosity on his face.

"It's always something, I don't even know what this one's about." You sighed as you leaned against your wall. "You here to just chat?"

Steve shook his head, "Go get dressed, you're coming out with us tonight."

"Am I?" You asked curiously. "What for?"

"A thank you," Steve explained, "For the other night with Quill and his buddies."

If it was anyone else, you'd think you were getting played. Steve was different, though. He was genuine, he didn't bullshit with his kindness. Maybe your actions had bought you a one-way ticket to Steve's friendship. If that was even what you wanted. Tony would kill you.

"I'll go get dressed." Fuck what Tony thinks.

Steve waited on the stool as you changed in your room. "Where are we going?" You called out to Steve.

"The Grove," Steve replied, his voice loud so you could hear. "It's where we always go." Second time at The Grove, how exciting. "What do you want to drink? I can let Coulson know ahead of time."

You thought for a moment, "I'll do a cosmopolitan!"

You quickly touched up your makeup and walked out of your room, back to Steve who was waiting patiently. "A cosmopolitan, good choice." Steve smiled. "You all ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab a jacket." You said, looking at the muted news on your tv. "Never mind, it's going to be eighty. I won't need that."

"Especially with alcohol in you," Steve joked, opening your door for you. "My bike's outside, you can just ride with me."

You'd actually only ridden on a bike a small amount. Clint had one, but everyone else in the Syndicates had nice cars. It felt thrilling to be on a bike again. It made you feel even better when Steve handed you a helmet to wear. Thrilling but safe!

The Avengers and yourself were definitely a little bit tipsy at this point.

You were sat right in between Wanda and Natasha, who's head was currently on your shoulder to keep her upright as she laughed so hard she was shaking.

"And then he screamed louder than anyone," Natasha paused to wheeze in a breath. "I've ever heard!"

The table erupted in laugher, all besides Sam, who's face was heated while he scoffed. "It isn't that funny."

"No, it really is." Wanda waved him off as she hiccuped in laughter.

The only person not laughing besides Sam was Bucky. He was just oddly smiling to himself, unable to look up from his lap. Clearly the story had made him amused, but he couldn't look up at you.

"I would give all the money in the world to hear that." You admitted as you sipped your drink.

Natasha sat up quickly, "Here, let me try and replicate it for you." She falsettoed her voice and gave the most feminine, soft screech you'd ever heard, causing everyone to laugh once more.

"It did not sound like that," Sam muttered. "I'm too sober for this shit." He waved down Coulson for another one of his drinks.

"Okay, Stark. Give us something, you basically are surrounded by half-men all day. You have to have some funny story." Wanda asked as she set her attention on you.

You felt uneasy with the spotlight now on you. "Uhm," You hesitated. Honestly, you couldn't remember a time that was really funny. You were never invited to those sorts of hangouts. "I don't know."

"What?" Natasha was still smiling, but it was slightly falling as she shook her head. "You have to have something."

"I actually want to circle back to when Sam tried to flirt with that stripper who immediately tried to make him her toddler's daddy." You hoped the reference would side-track the table, which it immediately did as Wanda and Natasha cackled.

The look on Steve's face was telling; he knew exactly what was going on inside your head, and that was scary. You were quick to notice that was the first time Bucky had laid eyes on you, too. You turned your head to Wanda as she told the story, Sam trying his best to shut her up as she spoke.

Steve's face turned to stone, but inside, he was going over a thousand different thoughts. The first step to his new plan was getting Bucky and yourself acquainted.

"Bucky, do you think you could take Stark home for me?"

#bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x you

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folkloresthings · 1 year ago

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NORTHANGER ABBEY — send a muse + your favourite trope and i’ll write a drabble/blurb.

Please do Lando Norris + brothers best friend thank you 😁❤️

i LOVE this trope

BAD IDEA. ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

you couldn’t quite remember the first time you had laid eyes on lando norris. for as long as you could remember, he’d been around. your brother had met him in secondary school when they were only eleven or twelve, but you being younger meant you didn’t really see much of them.

you didn’t have much time for your older brother then, and so not much time for his friends. really, you’d first noticed lando when he was eighteen. he’d been away for a while, racing and what not, so when you saw him again he’d suddenly grown up quite a bit. his awkwardness was gone, his muscles stronger, his face more handsome.

but you were only fourteen. you were just a shadow in the corner, of no importance to him. still quiet and weird, not sure of yourself yet.

your crush on your brother’s best friend only became more desperate over the next few years. watching him grow into himself, just as the world began to watch him. he drove for formula one now, mclaren’s star, and you were no one. he could have any woman in the world, so why would he want his friend’s little sister?

lando, sweet as ever, had paid for your entire family to come to his race in monaco. a weekend away with the norris’, something you’d been a part of many times before. you had learned to suppress your feelings for lando, to push them down to the bottom of your stomach and paint on a polite smile.

“you okay?” your head snaps up, lando’s concern greeting you. quickly do you nod, ignoring how the busy mclaren garage shrinks down to just the two of you when he looks in your eyes.

“yeah, fine. just a little crowded in here.”

lando rests a hand on your arm, pulling you out of the way of a mechanic, sending your heart into a million flutters. “i get that. you can wait in my driver’s room, if you want.”

it feels all too intimate, to be in lando’s space alone. you’d only ever been to his apartment with your brother. so you reject kindly, with a shake of your head.

“i’ll just go for a walk. i’ll see you tonight?”

lando smiles and lets you go. you inhale deeply as soon as you escape the busy paddock, wandering all around the city until you find yourself back at the hotel. lando had paid for all of your rooms, giving you your own, and you couldn’t have been more grateful than in that moment. time alone to think. to silently lecture yourself to get a grip.

three hours later, you’ve showered, fixed your hair and makeup as best as you could. you’re halfway into your dress when the door knocks.

“just a sec!” you call, hurrying to the door with your hand pressed to your chest, holding the fabric up. you unlock the door, peeking around to find lando with a smirk.

“your mum sent me up to fetch you. they’re all ready to go to dinner,” he explains and your eyes widen.

“is it that time already?” you curse yourself for losing track of the time. in a panic to get ready, you hurry back into the room in search of your shoes. the door lies open, so lando lets himself in and closes it behind him.

“don’t rush. they can wait.”

still, you rush. if you made everyone late for this dinner you would never hear the end of it from your mother. shoes slipped on, you reach blindly for the zip of your dress. in desperation, you look towards lando.

“will you—?” you plead, gesturing to the back of your dress. he nods, immediately, pacing over to you. turning, the opening of the dress reveals your bare back to him. it’s only when his fingers ghost over the zip that your panic subsides to realisation.

it’s suddenly incredibly warm in your hotel room and lando is taking a long time to zip up quite a small dress. his fingers linger on your skin, investigating its softness. the zip drags upwards, painfully slow, your eyes fluttering closed as he teases. you both freeze when the zip closes, nothing left to ponder over, waiting with bated breath.

you gasp quietly when you feel lando’s hands on your waist, his lips pressing softly to the side of your neck. your head falls back, resting on his shoulder, trying to gather the muddle of thoughts that gather in your head.

“lando…” you whisper, shaking your head. this wasn’t supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to return your affections, that wasn’t how the story was written. you were supposed to pine and be left with nothing. “this is a bad idea.”

lando doesn’t care. he turns you by the waist, to face his, and wastes no time in in pulling you into a dizzying kiss. years worth of kisses all in one. all tongue and teeth, the taste of your lipstick and the smell of his aftershave intoxicates you both. his hands grip at you desperately, slipping under the hem of your dress to grasp at whatever skin he can find.

breathless and lighthearted, you part with surprise. you could swear he was drunk when he looked at you, drunk on the taste of your tongue. lando still paws at your frame, making up for lost time, a time he was blind.

“we should go. they’re waiting,” you tell him, eyes still wide and full of shock. lando nods, unable to tear his eyes away from you. his thumb reaches for your lips, fixing the smudged lipstick. you giggle, mirroring his actions. when you’re done laughing like schoolchildren, his lips are void of any evidence.

“right. we should,” he sighs, stepping back from you with reluctance. you busy yourself by gathering your things, fixing your hair in the mirror, finding him waiting by the door. he opens it, fingers brushing you waist as you pass him.

“but maybe,” you speak, turning in the hallway when he closes the door to your room. “you could come back, tonight. after the dinner.”

you nod to the room number on the door to confirm your thoughts. lando smirks, stepping towards you, pecking your lips once more.

“you’re sure?” he looks at you with those eyes and you’re fifteen years old again, knees going weak.

“positive. will you?”

lando, too, finds a great weakness in your eyes. eyes that he once barely noticed. but it was like someone had turned a light on, illuminating you and everything that you had become.

“of course, love. i’ll come.”

#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#💌 ﹐ writings.#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris drabble #lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine

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presleyhearted · 4 months ago

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Yours Truly - Chapter 14: Jump Then Fall.

・❥・pairing: Elvis x original female character

・❥・genre: slow burn, mystery, angst, fluff.

・❥・wc: 7427 words (grab some popcorn, this is a long chapter aha).

・❥・summary: In which a 21-year-old girl suddenly finds herself having consecutive dreams of a particular rock ‘n’ roll star whom she has never met and who died 45 years ago.

・❥・ Ratings & warnings: descriptions of fears of drowning.

❥・a/n: Finally on chapter 14! so, so much happens in this chapter. Thank you all for your patience. If you have not read this fic before, please refer to my masterlist as this is a multi-chaptered series. Thank you. happy reading :)

dividers by @cafekitsune

chapter index | prev | chapter 15

“Oh be my once in a lifetime. Lying on your chest, in my party dress.” Lana Del Rey, Love Song.

NOVA

The hammering of the downpour painted the apartment's windows with its presence for the past hour or so. Some might say that weather like this gives the perfect ambiance to study. But instead of pursuing academic tasks at the moment, my mind somehow can't find the willingness to do those. The side of my body leaned against the couch of our living room, as I observed the rain bleed through everything outside.

I've seen heavy rain a million times, but this is the only time that I am so transfixed by it. There is nothing particularly special about it, except that, my mind flashes images through like scenes of a movie; A Warm Cafe. heavy rain. the pull of my hand. laughing. his laugh. dark hair. my dress sticking to my skin. dancing.

"I'm me when I'm with you."

"Do you trust me?"

His words are so clear and always seem to take the forefront of my mind, his voice being a lingering tune. It's like if I opened the window right now, and let my hand feel the drop of the precipitation - I could almost feel like I am back in that moment. For some reason, a reason that I still don't know, it is the easiest thing in the world for me to lay my trust in the palm of his hand. I am certain that I am a practical person, and being logical has always been something that takes over me in everything.

But for the first time in so long, I'm not quite sure about that.

What makes it so easy for me to keep going with this, going with him, even with all the uncertainty? With no answers to the meaning behind it all?

"What are you thinking about, bestie?" Luke's voice pulled me out of my reverie. I just then realize that he is standing right beside me, placing a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

"Huh?"

"Or who?" He mused, elbowing me playfully, with a curious smirk on his lips.

well.

I shook my head, "Nothing."

He plops down beside me on the couch, "You have that thinking face on, and with that frown on your lips - it gives me heartbreak vibes."

I laughed at his response, "Luke, I'm not even seeing anyone."

"And? I'm not seeing Henry Cavill and he still broke my heart."

I playfully throw him the cushion, which he easily catches and dramatically responds, "It's the truth!"

"Whoever you were daydreaming about, heartbreaker or not, he had you in your own world there." He said in a sing-song voice.

I don't respond and throw him a simple smile.

I never realized that I was so deep in my thoughts that I failed to notice that Luke walked up to me. He was right in the fact that I was in my own world. But he was wrong about the heartbreaker part, because no, Elvis didn't break my heart. It's something else. It's this feeling I get whenever I am with him. It's thrilling, but so terrifying, but so fun at the same time. And I am certain that I have never felt that way before.

I just hope that when my mind finally stops spinning for answers, that feeling will remain. It has to.

But then again, I have never been one to cling to hope. Not that I am a pessimistic person, but if you didn't know all the angles of a situation, how could you ever put your all into hope? It's like unknowingly walking through active flames and arriving on the other side with imprints of ashes.

Hope is not immune to turning into hurt.

As much as my love for literature and the art of reading, I do love movies as well. Sometimes there is a particular nostalgia to them, especially those movies from the 90s and early 2000s. Luke and I try to have a movie night once a month. Back when we first became friends at the start of college, we would have movie nights every Saturday. But that was before we found out how unpredictable and laborious the schedule is as a college student, therefore it was hard to keep up with that. So, we decided to just have a movie night each month, whenever there is a free day. We normally take turns in picking which movie to watch, but it is Luke's turn this time.

Due to my momentary 'daydream' as Luke described it, it is only now that I fully become aware of the movie of his choice. His Netflix account is open and put on pause. I turned to him in sheer surprise, "Really? The Great Gatsby?"

He shrugged, "I wanna know what the hype is."

I gave him a look.

"Listen, everyone and their mother watched this, except me." He said dramatically as if it was competition.

I watched the movie a while ago. The cinematography is insane. But of course, now that I have to analyze the story through the literature piece, it's a whole different experience from watching. Luke doesn't fail in doing his usual commentary about the costumes, the acting, and his hatred for so and so's character. One thing about my best friend, he might not be a reader, but he will not hesitate to yell at a television screen when he has this passionate hatred for a particular character in a film or TV show.

He calmed down for a while and paused the film, "I mean, I know Gatsby be lying through his teeth. But the commitment is immaculate." He dramatically clapped.

"Definitely. I can't lie to save my life."

"No, bestie. I'm not on about that." He chuckled, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Oooh, you are Miss Daydreamer today, aren't you?" He said with a smirk.

I scoffed at him and laughed, "What? I'm simply asking a question."

He nodded at me, seemingly unconvinced.

"Hm, right. Well, whoever he is, he better not give me the ick."

"There is no one."

"You just said you can't lie to save your life, point proven."

"I am not lying."

Once he saw that I was no longer saying anything more, Luke sighed and simply said, "Yeah, right. "

I snapped my fingers, "But really, what did you mean about Gatsby's commitment?" If I didn't navigate it back to the topic at hand, there is no doubt that even Luke himself would forget what he was talking about in the first place.

"I was saying that about how he is with Daisy. Homeboy really hosted all those parties in case the girl he is in love with showed up all of a sudden. Even if Daisy never showed up that quickly, I think Homeboy still be throwing those parties until she does. And I can't even get a text back for fuck's sake." Luke said, sighing dramatically.

I can't help but chuckle at him, "It's fiction."

He shrugged, "Yeah, but what if there are some people out there that do keep waiting and waiting for the love they lost all those years ago?"

I squinted my eyes at him in surprise and amusement, as I playfully elbowed him on the side, "Aw, didn't know I'm friends with Cupid."

Luke scoffed, "You aren't. But you ever see him around, tell him he is long overdue to fix my shit of a love life."

I laughed, "Will do."

It's becoming easier and easier to know that I've slipped into the land of dreams. Before, I would find myself taking a second to make sure that I was in fact dreaming. But now, it feels all second nature to me now. I am definite in knowing that I have been whisked away into my dreams, and are no longer in the real world. So, the only question that I really ask is, "Where am I now?" which I didn't realize I said out loud, but the only indication that I blurted my question out loud is there is someone who answered.

"Are you lost, Ma'am?" A familiar voice. It seems like the only voice I expect and hope for, whenever I awake in these dreams.

I turned my head to the source and direction, and there he was. Elvis was standing on the tree branch, the very tree that I was standing under it seemed. He crouches down, both feet still on the branch, and my heart cannot help but leap out of my chest at the sight of the possibility of an imbalance occurring. But the man before me is the picture of anything but fear. His hair appears to be meticulously oiled back, and with that hint of youthful appearance in his face, and the same striking pair of blue eyes. It appears to be 1950s Elvis. His clothes seem to also confirm my guess; He wears a Cuban collar shirt, wide-legged pleated black trousers, a black jacket, and black loafers with striking pink-colored socks. He also appears to be holding a jacket over his shoulder, as he shoots me a grin.

I cannot help but chuckle, "What in the world are you doing up there?"

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head, strands of his dark hair falling over his face.

"Oh," He shrugged, "Nothin' unusual, just searchin' for a damsel in distress."

"The way you trust that branch so much is putting me in distress."

He tilted his head in amusement, "You worry for me, honey?"

"Solid ground here. Stable. Safe. You should try it." I said, smiling at him.

It's a dream, which means technically he won't be hurt, but that still doesn't mean I'm not my usual worried self. I mean, if this is my dream, then I can control it. But dreams and control have never been two things that agreed with each other in my case. And not to forget, the raven-haired man before me's unpredictable tendencies, to say the least.

He sighed calmly, "I would. But I'm likin' the view from up here." He shoots me one of his infamous grins, his gaze fleeting through me from head to toe unabashedly. An action that made my face grow hot all of a sudden, as I averted my gaze from him quickly.

In my previous dream, we were walking under the night sky and I remember vividly that he told me he wanted to show me something. But that never happened because my body jolted me back awake. Back into reality.

"Didn't you say you were going to show me something?" I questioned him, hoping that it would throw him off from him noticing my reaction to his comment. Hoping that it distracts me from feeling that familiar warm sensation that sits in the depth of my chest. For if I don't distract myself, and I start to think about all the other times - all our previous encounters - I might be forced to turn my back on him, and only face him again once I can fix my flustered state. I am no stranger to his flirtatious nature, but I am a stranger to who I am when I am with him.

And I am not sure how to connect those puzzle pieces. Not right now, at least.

Elvis nodded, stood up from his crouched position, and jumped off from the tree branch - an action that happened in the blink of an eye, and made me shut my eyes in fright. He thankfully lands safely and stands right in front of me.

"Yeah. Before you disappeared." He said teasingly.

I shrugged, my smile dissipating into a picture of guilt, "I can't control it, you know?"

I hope he knows. When these dreams first started to happen, I was directly asking him all those questions about the reason behind it all. I still don't have all the answers. But I believe that he is real. Based on all of these small hints that happened, and how he answered that he said yes, even if he didn't verbally confirm it. When I woke up in Graceland and apologized to him for being late, he jokingly said he thought he got stood up. That was the closest exchange of words between us that touched on the topic of the control of my dreams, and how I wake up out of nowhere and there is no real sign right before it happens. But this is the first time I am telling him that I did wake up all of a sudden, and I think he knows. But I say this as a question, in case he doesn't. Even if I think he does.

Elvis nodded, "Course. Doesn't mean it hurts me less." He said, his voice so soft.

He bites his bottom lip and releases a deep breath. There is a breeze in the air, a deep contrast to the chilling winter air of the real world. The leaves of the trees sway to the effect of the wind, the blooming of the flowers that decorate the lush green grass, and the shine of the sunlight - all the elements that immediately make it known to me that it is Spring that greet me in this dream. The sunlight that shines from behind me is the perfect tool that magnifies the azure of his eyes. The glint of playfulness is not harbored within them, instead, it makes me see that there is a pool of tears that paint his eyes and look into mine. Elvis has seen me multiple times by now, all of these dreams, all these encounters - and yet, he studies my face now. As if it is the first and last time he ever will lay his eyes on me. His eyes moved from each inch of my face, like what people do when they try to memorize something.

It's an action that would otherwise make me feel uncomfortable if it were someone else, but instead, all I feel is shreds of pain that poke at my heart and a haze of confusion that clouds my mind. And with those both combined? I feel a sudden lump in my throat, it's that feeling that builds up when someone is about to break into tears. And I am at a loss of words on why that is. Why my body, my heart, and my mind are reacting this way?

"I'm sorry," I said, surprising myself by the break in my voice. the instability.

The rational part of my brain believes that Elvis is acting this way because of how abruptly I leave him in the world of dreams.

Elvis shook his head.

A loose strand of my hair blows in the spring wind, Elvis brings his hand up and tucks this behind my ear. All whilst never leaving his gaze from mine, "Nova. . . it's never not you." He said softly.

I looked at him quizzically, "Elvis. . . "

Elvis looked down and shook his head, and when he faced me again there was that bright smile on his face. As if the tense nature and hurt in his face, and how words a second ago didn't happen. He takes the jacket off his shoulder and drapes it over my shoulders, "C'mon." He naturally intertwined our fingers and tugged me along in a direction.

"Here we are."

I gasped in astonishment at the scene before me, "This is insane."

From the moment he pulled me along with him and the way we made our way through a forest, there was a rush of excitement and curiosity that filled me. The chirping of birds in high trees and canopies accompanied our journey, but that sound was added by something else and I could've never guessed that it would all lead to this. The source of the sound is the rush of water splashing against rocks. Bees buzzing, birds chirping, the splash of the water, and the rush of the wind rustling through the trees - all working to elevate the beautiful sight before us.

A waterfall.

An almost crystal-like paradise blue water spilled over the rocks and cascaded effortlessly into the gleaming pool. The water that left the ledge was not producing harsh, strong sounds. It was a rush, but a more gentle affair, which explains the white lines at the edges of it as it met the serenity of the pool at the bottom. The amber glow of the sunset peeks through the branches of a singular tree that hung over the water illuminating a radiating glow to the pool. The height of the waterfall itself was not extremely daunting, but it appeared steep and tall enough to create such a picturesque image.

I turned to Elvis, who through my awestruck reaction, I didn't even realize was now in only a pair of swimming shorts. His bare upper body was a beautiful shade of tan, his stomach was slim and there was an undeniable air of confidence in the way he stood there beside me. Half-naked he was, - shit, half-naked.

"Am I interruptin' you, honey?" His voice filled with amusement, as I snap my head back up to look at him. His hands are set on his hips, that familiar smirk on his lips, as he catches me checking him out.

Well, shit.

"I- well. .you-," I spluttered out pathetically, he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

I sighed with my hands in my head in sheer embarrassment. Oh my God Nova, get it together. He isn't even naked. Well, only half-naked.

"How did you change into shorts so fast?" I managed to say, thanking myself that I was able to contain my composture, despite the growing warmth in my cheeks.

Elvis chuckled and tilted his head at me, "I'm glad that I impressed you, Miss Sinclair."

I cannot help but feel the corners of my lips twitch up into a small smile.

"Ocassionally." I teased him.

He advanced in front of me and stopped and my heart found this the sign to beat erratically against my chest. Elvis leaned forward to the right side of my face until I swear I could feel his breathing tickle against my ear, "Darlin', I can be very impressive. " He pulled back and studied my face for a second, a smirk prominent on his lips. He fully stepped back and walked past me. I regained myself, for the second time in the conversation, and turned myself around. I was a statue for a second there, releasing a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I move my hands subtly, trying my best to get rid of the sweaty feeling of my palms.

"W-Where are you going?"

Damn it, Nova. Did you have to stutter?

He squinted his hypnotic blue eyes at me that were filled with mischief, "To cool off." He chuckled.

The meaning behind his words unmistakenly indicated my flustered state.

He was walking backward, facing me while he neared the water. Elvis turned around and jumped into the water, making a splash in which I gasped. He appeared from the water not a second later with a grin on his lips, as he pushed his hair back with his one hand.

He looked at me expectantly, "C'mon, honey."

His invitation for me to join him in the water rendered my knees weak. Practically shaking. No matter how beautiful the entire atmosphere was and how ethereal the flow of the water seemed to be, I couldn't bring myself to step closer. My palms were welcomed with the familiar feeling of sweat, at such a speed that almost matched the the pulsing of my heart. A sound that I swear I can almost hear, matching the shallow breaths that escaped my lips. My lips felt very dry all of a sudden.

"No. I-I-I can't. " I stepped back.

He looked at me, his eyes a beautiful shade of blue. Full of empathy and gentleness.

"Yeah, you can. C'mon, I've gotcha." He encouraged me, his voice was soft with his hand stretched out to me.

"Elvis, n-no. I-I can't swim." I replied, feeling my breathing becoming more of a sport. An action that was natural now quickly becoming unnatural.

"Darlin', I know that. Let me teach you." He offered me a small smile, and for a second I felt a sense of comfort. But that was quickly whisked away by the idea of the depth of the water and the sound of it splashing against each other, hitting the rocks nearby.

I shook my head, "W-What if the water takes m-me? H-How deep is it? W-What if I drown?"

Elvis interrupts me, "Nova, breathe. Breathe." He repeated.

He instructed me, starting with closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing. I did this a few times until the only sounds that filled my ears were the soft swaying of the trees and the chirping of the birds. The sound of the water was barely present anymore. And so, I continued to do this until I could feel my heartbeat steady. Elvis' voice guided me.

I regained the normal pattern of my breathing.

"Okay, now what?" I asked, with my eyes still closed.

Silence.

"Elvis?" I repeated.

No response.

Just how fast dread seeps into one's chest in moments.

I opened my eyes and everything was exactly how it was. Except that, the water before me did not house the familiar raven-haired man.

"Elvis!" I yelled, my head snapping in each direction.

Now, I am the most logical and risk-free person if one were to ask the people closest to me. I do not make any decisions, whether it be heavy ones or light ones, impulsively and in a 'spur of the moment.' Never.

But such things as those require thinking. One thing that I can say for sure is that I do it all the time.

Except this time I wasn't. I was being led by something else other than my brain.

And so, I feel an energy-like force almost pulling me to glance at the water again.

"Elvis!" I called out again.

No response.

Before my mind could register my actions, I slipped off the dress that I was wearing and found myself near the body of water - and I jumped.

Shit.

Oh god, I can't breathe.

I tried to pull myself from the power of the water but felt my legs sinking down as well as the rest of my body. My eyes kept snapping shut due to the pressure and how I uncontrollably swallowed amounts of water as I tried to breathe.

But I am sinking.

and sinking.

and-

"I've gotcha." That familiar voice rings in my ear, as I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and a body against my back. I turned my head to see him with that smirk on his lips, as I felt that I was no longer sinking.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him once I relaxed, "You!" I turned around to hit his chest in anger.

He groaned at the contact, "Ouch! Calm down, Nova."

I scoffed, "Oh, I am not calming down Presley! Where the hell did you go? I thought you were with me and- and you just disappeared? I thought you were gone! I-"

I didn't realize it, but drops of tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks.

Elvis interrupts me by pulling me closer with his arms tighter around me, and his forehead against mine. Gone was the mischievous smirk and instead, he breathed slowly, "I'm right here, baby. I'm here. I can never leave ya." He whispered, eyes looking into mine. He then grabbed hold of my hands that were against his chest and positioned them so that they were wrapped around his neck.

"You better not," I muttered, which Elvis heard perfectly judging by the smile that crossed his lips.

I glanced down and like a shot of fear upon the realization of the depth of the water and the probability of me sinking again, as I only have my arms around Elvis.

"Wrap your legs around me," Elvis instructed, quickly noticing the fear that struck my face.

With no hesitation, I wrapped my legs around his waist. I must be a shade of crimson now, judging by the warmth I felt that flooded my cheeks. But who can blame me? The sheer proximity of our bodies - I have never been in a situation like this before. I only had my underwear and bra on, and Elvis was only in his shorts. And not to mention, I am in a body of water - something which I swore myself I would never do due to my intense fear of drowning. There it goes again - the beating of my heart, as I feel blood rushing from my veins to the very tip of my fingers that clung onto him. The pulse acted like a catalyst for hot waves of that beating against my chest.

I looked at Elvis again, but his azure eyes were already on me. He was biting his bottom lip, as he groaned in what appeared to be pain.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm too heavy-" I started to profusely apologize.

"No, darlin.' No." He said, his voice strained.

"But-"

I started to detach myself from him slowly and move my body, feeling embarrassed about the way I practically clung onto him and put all my weight on him.

"Nova, stop movin.'" He said, not in a harsh manner. But in a tone that was strained and I swore I heard him mutter under his breath, "Lord, help me."

"What is it? You look hurt, Elvis." I said, trying to find more of an explanation for his pained expression that adored his features. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

He shook his head, "Keep close to me, I'm not hurt."

"You swear?" I questioned, still unsure of his words.

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah I swear."

I secured myself around him again, believing his words.

I feel something hard against my thigh, I look down quizzically and gasped at the sight of a bulge from his shorts poking my thigh. I avert my gaze. I feel that sudden warmth in my cheeks and seems to travel to my neck as well.

Elvis must've seen my reaction, "Aw, hell. I'm sorry, darlin.' I-" He sighed deeply, his head facing the sky above.

To not further the obvious awkwardness that was surely rising between us, I pretended to clear my throat and said, "Were you talking about teaching me how to swim?"

His chest seemed to relax as he breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, "Uh, yes, yeah okay."

Swimming was a skill that my parents were not fond of me learning. Their protectiveness over my safety wins priority over learning a life skill. And so, I grew up with the fear of water as a result.

After that awkward moment between Elvis and me, slowly but surely he did exactly what he promised. He taught me how to swim. Well, almost did. My fear of drowning and losing control would creep up on me every now and again, which would make me stop and cling to him or the rocks nearby. But even with that, his patience never wavered. Nor did he make me feel embarrassed. No, I never felt any of those emotions. Only comfort and dare I say, some excitement when I feel like I am getting the hang of it. By the end of our swimming session, I was no expert in swimming, but I at least had less fear of the water and trusted myself more in gaining control of how I moved against the water.

Not to mention, I became accustomed to the touch of his skin against mine and the closeness that was unavoidable in the situation. It was like the rapid changing of seasons - hot and cold. But in the end, no matter what, all I felt was familiarity. To the point that no contact of my skin against his was more unnatural than natural.

Soon, the greeting of the amber glow of sunset alerted our tired bodies. Therefore, we made our way out of the body of water and back onto dry land. We dried ourselves with a towel that was nearby, one that I didn't question, for this was all a dream. And I learned now that questioning things in this world leads me to nowhere. I pulled my dress back on and Elvis put his clothes back on. However, albeit the warmer season in this dream compared to the real world, there was a chill in the air - the sign of the day nearly coming to a close.

Elvis must've noticed my shivering state as I ran my hands up and down my crossed arms, he slipped his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.

I protested quickly, "What about you?"

He shrugged with that lopsided grin of his, "I'm fine, darlin'."

"Elvis-"

"Yes, Miss Sinclair?" He tilts his head at me and that's when I knew that there was no use in arguing with him.

So I sighed and playfully rolled my eyes, "Alright, you win."

He chuckled and grasped my hand into his, the action more effortless than when I said my own name. We walked quickly beside each other in silence, in which I broke, " Thank you."

Elvis turned to me, "For what, darlin?" He asked, his thumb gently caressing my hand.

"Well, teaching me how to swim even if I'm still not completely there yet. But thank you anyway for being so patient with me."

"Of course, " He nodded, "You gotta believe in yourself more, honey." He said softly.

I sighed, "I know, but it's easier said than done." I cannot help but shrug.

Elvis stopped walking and faced me, "The things that last, the most important things - they take time. Always do." He said to me, but somehow it felt as if the words were scattered notes across a broken piano - one that still plays beautifully, but long forgotten. One that remembers the melody of a beautiful thing. His tone of voice resembled one of a person who was recalling a memory of some kind before it faded away. The reminiscent kind. One that is mixed with the taste of nostalgia.

"Very wise, who said that?" I mused. It was becoming harder and harder to find a way to ease the tension when he grew serious all of a sudden. It is not a tension that is negative by any means, but there is something in my chest. This feeling. And before I could even think more about it, I had to lean into a half-humored response. A light response, but sincerity and honesty all the same.

Elvis winked.

Before I could question more into his confusing response, he tugged my hand intertwined in his closer as he led me through more of the forest. Shortly after that, I find that we are somehow on the other side of the waterfall but perched on a hill. So, there was a distance from the water, but not too far. Just the right enough distance to take in the picturesque view. A red and white patterned picnic blanket was draped over the grass, and atop it was a picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

Elvis tugged me along as we sat down on the picnic blanket.

"You did all this?" I asked, more of a rhetorical question than most.

"You like it?"

"This is incredible." I marveled.

Elvis smiled, letting go of my hands and taking hold of the bouquet - presenting them to me.

"For you, Nova."

I gladly accept the bouquet and admire the flowers. These flowers were rare, only appearing in spring and summer. The sky blue color of the petals that surrounded the mild yellow centre - a flower that I had seen all my life, and I breathed it. It was a flower that always grew so abundantly all around my parents' house growing up.

Which is why it so easily became my favorite flower in the entire world.

"Elvis, thank you. These are beautiful."

"it's a. . . Forget Me Not."

"-Forget Me Not."

We ended up saying it simultaneously, and I burst out laughing at the way we said it in sync. Elvis is frozen, his eyes are wide as his mouth opens in an 'o' shape. He starts to say something, but mumbles and stopped himself.

"Obviously, there is that clear meaning behind its name. But also for some reason, I don't why, but they always grew in the garden of my childhood house. My parents' home. My parents never raised them. I guess it came with the location of the property. That's how I happened to know what they are called. They then ended up being my favorite flower, I don't know if it was because it was the only flower that I saw constantly and thought I was a smart kid. But-"

I stopped my ramblings, as I noticed that Elvis has grown silent. His eyes are no longer looking into mine but instead appear to be looking far away out into the distance. But his removal from me wasn't what gravitated my interest, it was what was contained in his azure eyes. A build of tears seemed to be rising higher and higher in his eyes. I've only ever seen him in a state of tears like this once before, a while ago, when I asked him questions with one-word answers.

The image makes me reach my hand out to him as I wrap it around his, "Elvis?" I said, my voice quiet, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't respond. Instead, he shuts his eyes rapidly and those tears escape down his face. He keeps his eyes closed, appearing to be squeezing his eyelids shut.

Oh god. What did I say?

"Did I say something?"

My questions seemed to shake him out of his trance, and he opened his eyes, and the very moment he did - I felt my heart collapse. Like the earth-shattering quake that makes even the strongest buildings surrender to the ground. His eyes are swollen, evident by the droplets of tears that still cascade down his cheeks. He shook his head and with shaky hands, he brought his hands up to cup my cheeks, "Nova."

"Tell me, did I say something wrong? I'm sor-"

"No, no, no." He said quickly, voice cracking.

In that moment, there is something within me that reigns over the attitude of thinking over my decisions and choices.

The space and distance between us suddenly felt wrong.

I reached my hands out to push his hair out of his face and wipe the tears off his cheeks. I leave my hands resting on his shoulders, as I tuck my knees beneath me and feel myself pulling him close to me - enveloping him into a hug. The action caused the raven-haired man before me to erupt into sobs, his arms gripped around me grow tighter. I find myself running my hand through his hair in a soothing manner. Now is not the time for questions, sometimes in life, we have no choice but to speak and let words be spoken. But this time? Elvis does not need me pestering him with questions.

"Shh, it's alright."

A while goes by, but I do not pull back until Elvis does.

And when he does, I try to brush off that feeling of emptiness that rushes into my system - into the very corners of that organ that sits inside my chest, all too quickly.

It took a while before the atmosphere between us goes back to lighteharted, and tear-free. Whatever it was that was on Elvis' mind that caused him to zone out like that - I hope he never delves into that again. It breaks me. He never tells me what it was, and I never ask. Instead, he apologises profusely and presents the food that was in the picnic blanket. We have the food and soon flow into happier topics of conversation.

"No way, really?" I asked as Elvis retells a story of how he first started to learn guitar. All of my knowledge of Elvis was from the Elvis movie, and nothing further than that.

Elvis nodded, "Yeah. I think I was eleven at the time and I wanted a bicycle, but my mama didn't want it."

"Why?"I asked, taking a sip out of the glass of wine.

"Couldn't afford it," Elvis shrugged and continued, "But Mama also believed that a bicycle would end up hurtin' me. She feared for my safety all the time. "

"So, she instead opted for buying you a guitar instead? I guess, it makes sense. How protective your mother was. " This I knew of. How Elvis had a twin brother, but was lost at childbirth. A reasonable experience for the constant fear and protectiveness his mother had over his safety.

Elvis chuckled, running his hand through his hair, "Yeah, I didn't know what I was doin'. Knew nothin' about playin' the instrument. Only learned from my Uncle Johnny and the pastor, Frank Smith from the church we would go to." He explained further.

"That's why I never understood when people called me gifted. I was far from it, honey." He shook his head in embarrassment.

"I disagree with you. Talent doesn't always mean waking up and being a prodigy at something, sometimes it takes learning on your own and then combining that with practice. I don't think anything is effortless. So, whatever you said, Elvis - I fully believe you were a talented one. A once in a lifetime." I said, not realizing that I was using my hands to speak.

Elvis smiled at this, his cheeks a shade of crimson as he looked down whilst scratching his neck.

"Well, uh, thank you darlin."

The duality of him continues to amaze me.

"Sorry, I rambled away like that. Saying so much in one sentence - I hope it wasn't annoying." I chuckled, as I admitted this to him.

"I love listening to you speak." He said, with no hesitation.

I feel myself blush at his gaze and turn to look at the scenery, that's when I realize that the landscape has been engulfed by the dark blue color of the night sky. A thousand stars dotted around it, looking down on us.

I turned to face him again, "Oh gosh, I never even realized it was already dark. "

We must've been talking for hours and hours, getting lost in conversation and not realizing it was the sky's turn to rest.

Elvis frowned, "Oh, do you want to go?"

I shook my head, "No, not yet."

He sighed in what appeared to be a relief, "Good. I'm not ready yet."

I tilted my head, "And why is that, Presley?"

His hand reaches out behind him, in which he extracts a guitar.

"Since when was that behind you?" I laughed.

Elvis simply winked, "I told ya, Miss Sinclair. I can be very impressive."

I cannot help but smile, "Uh-huh."

His fingers strummed a few chords, "Any special requests?"

I thought for a moment, I don't know his discography that well.

"Any song. Whatever comes to mind."

He nodded and started to strum the strings of the guitar, and when he began to sing - I swear I no longer felt the coldness of the evening air around me. Instead, there is the warmth that fills his voice and surrounds me. The first verse of the song is gentle and evokes the very definition of a peaceful night. But not one that makes one fall asleep, it makes you keep listening and hanging onto every word. I do end up closing my eyes very briefly, but open them again and when I do - he is already looking into mine with a smile on his lips.

"Love me tender,

love me true,

all my dreams fulfilled

for my darlin' I love you

and I always will."

Elvis' voice was flying through the breeze of the evening air like a gentle companion walking through the vacant streets of a quaint town. One thing that the movie portrayed was how powerful of a performer Elvis was. Especially the era of the 70s. The extravagant jumpsuits, the international hotel ballroom. The way he moved on the stage. But they rarely captured how, even without all of that, there was the tenderness and sweetness to his voice that can mesmerize anyone just the same.

"Love me tender,

love me dear,

Tell me you are mine,

I'll be yours through all the years,

Till the end of time." He finished singing and holds onto that last line - almost speaks it, instead of singing it.

And just as he stopped strumming the guitar, thoughts evade my mind. Yes, I feared the water earlier because what else does one do when they don't know how to swim? I didn't know the depth of the water, and it can be unpredictable at times. No matter how serene the atmosphere. I know all can be solved if I had the skill of knowing how to swim. But I didn't.

But the one catalyst that drove that swimming session to even happen - well, it was him. Through my actions that did not align with my rational thinking, I went straight into the water to look for him. To find him. To see him safe. To make sure. If I didn't do any of that, I doubt I would be in the water at all.

I simply - jumped.

It was only now, at this moment with him across from me as he finished singing a song so sweet and pure - that I realized it was never really about jumping into the water.

Whether I dared to say it out loud or not, I know it is true. A feeling that triumphs over my anxieties and fear, which I proved to myself by jumping into that water - I care about him.

Elvis, I care about you. I say this in my mind. Words unspoken.

I clapped, "That was amazing Elvis."

He smiled shyly, "Thank you, honey." He said, placing the guitar back down on the picnic blanket. He hesitates, about to say something, and scratches the back of his neck as he mumbles something under his breath.

His hands delicately get hold of a loose strand of hair falling over my face, and gently tucked this behind my ear. The action tickles me and I end up giggling a little, "Oh gosh, that tickles."

Elvis grinned and leaned in again. "Hmm?"

"Yes, it does. I am ticklish, okay?" I chuckle, shaking my head.

Oh gosh, wrong words Nova. Unfortunately, he caught on to my words very quickly. Elvis started to tickle me on my sides, and I couldn't help but gasp with my eyes going wide. I am lying down on the picnic blanket now, falling over from the actions. My hands frantically attempt to push him off me, but with that infamous smirk on his lips - he doesn't hold back.

"Elvis! oh my god, stop!" I said, in between gasps and laughter.

"Nope."

Okay, two can play a game, Presley.

I tickled him back, and he gasped with a picture of momentarily surprise. He stumbled back, now being the one lying down whilst I have the upper hand. Unfortunately, Elvis does not appear to be as ticklish as I am. He is quick to grab hold of both of my hands. Our laughter stops, once we both realize the position that we are in. I am lying on top of him, with both of my hands engulfed in his hand and his right hand wrapped around my waist. Our faces were inches apart from each other, that I could feel his breathing against my cheek.

"The power you hold over me, Nova." He said softly, with a wide smile.

His words register through my mind like a faint wave, for I couldn't help but admire him. His tanned skin, those piercing eyes of his. His lips looked so soft. A strand of his perfectly groomed hair overshadowed part of his face.

"You're beautiful," I said, unable to stop myself.

Elvis grinned and shook his head, "Nah, you should see the view from 'ere. That's the breathtaking one."

I blushed but shook my head still.

"Oh, here you go with your flirting again," I replied, chuckling.

"Always with you."

taglist:

@literally-just-elvis-fics

@obsessedwithurlove

@simplyamberj

@ilovereadingfanfics

@returntopresley

#elvis fic #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #yours truly #elvis x original female character #angst #fluff #elvis x oc #elvis fics #presleyhearted #elvis fic recs

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ramp-it-up · 2 years ago

Text

Bucky Charms

Summary: You learn more about Bucky other than the physical. Are you ready to risk it all?

Pairing: Dark CEO! Bucky Barnes x Journalist! Reader

Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY, SMUT. Minors DNI. ANGST. Fluff. Descriptions of past trauma, kidnapping, death, violence. Steve and Sam, Pining, lust, flirting through music, teasing, karaoke, non con surveillance, oral sex (m recieving) degradation kink alongside praise kink, Sir kink, good girl/bad girl kink, p in v (wrap it up!) lil bit of breeding kink, Soft Dark Bucky.

A/N: This is part of the Playlist Series. Read the previous part, F*cking Bucky @ysmmsy and @blackwidownat2814 are my exquisite muses who created the playlists, with more to come. 😉 Thanks you both! 🥰 please leave feedback, like and reblog. It helps to inspire me. 😊

The playlist is real and is linked here!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

I’ll stop the world and melt with you/you’ve seen the difference/ and it’s getting better all the time/there’s nothing you and I won’t do/I’ll stop the world and melt with you…the future’s open wide…

You listened to that cut over and over until you fell asleep after Bucky left your apartment and woke up with it still on repeat.

You’d certainly melted for James Buchanan Barnes last night, and he melted all over you. You smiled at the window, feeling light and buoyant as air, but then sat up and frowned as you realized what Bucky said.

“Professional.”

He’d suggested that you could both be professional. After last night, you didn’t think you could do it, but you had to try. You moved to get out of bed and realized that you were still sore.

You grinned as you padded to the bathroom and ran another hot bath. You didn’t regret a single thing about the night before.

And you had a feeling that despite what Bucky had said, neither did he.

Bucky was late to work. For him. He walked into the office at 8:45 am.

Steve and Sam shared a look across the shared space, but didn’t say a word. Until Bucky put in his AirPods and started singing Frank Ocean.

A tornado flew around my room before you came/Excuse the mess it made…

“Okay. What the hell is going on?”

Bucky stared up at Sam who was now hovering over his desk and who’s broken through his noise cancellation.

“Hunh?

Steve got up and walked over to Bucky.

“Don’t play dumb with us. You are late, and in an awfully good mood. Singing, Buck? What happened last night, Bucky. Did you get with Y/N?”

Bucky looked up at the two men who were most like brothers in his life. He couldn’t hide anything from them.

“So what if I did get lucky last night?”

Bucky put his long legs up on his desk and leaned back in his ergonomic chair.

“What makes you think it was her? There are 4.3 million women in this city.”

Steve and Sam just stared at him, then Steve spoke again.

“Sure. But there’s only one that you are laser focused on.”

Sam agreed.

“Yeah, you’re like a dog with a bone.”

Bucky’s grin got wider and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Sam shook his head.

“I’ve heard that before. That means this is serious, because in the old days…”

“We got a blow by blow. Literally.”

“Fuck you Steve. And fuck you Sam.”

Bucky threw up double birds at his friends.

“And step the fuck back from my work space. I’ve got work to do.”

When his business partners had safely retreated, Bucky picked up his phone to text you. He couldn’t not text you the morning after, but he had to be careful.

“See you at 4 o’clock. Looking forward to moving on with this project.”

You read the text, your heart beating a mile a minute when you saw the notification. You took some deep breaths as you walked to the subway station to go into the city. It was pretty straightforward. No subtext to be parsed out.

There was no way to know that you were the project that Bucky was talking about.

Both of you went through your days, listening to the playlist Bucky was building throughout the day. This was not the music to do work to. The songs were cute and flirty, silly, surprising, and in some cases full of emotion that went well beyond a professional relationship.

But it was just music, right?

You two sent songs flying to the playlist throughout the day, flirting with music in place of words, glances, and touch. Etta James, Savage Garden, Monica, The Pogues, Frank Ocean, The Darkness, from the 80’s to last month.

It was a very eclectic mix that seemed to summarize both of your personalities perfectly. On the A train that afternoon, you caught an older woman smiling at you as you cheesed at your phone.

Bucky was becoming more and more active on IG since your interview and he’d posted a photo. It was a close up selfie of him staring off into space at his desk in a dark grey suit with a purple line-patterned tie. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his blue eyes were dreamy.

This man was posting thirst traps fully clothed. And judging from some of the comments, plenty of people were falling for it. There were over 1200 likes in the 90 minutes it had been up.

You didn’t want to like the picture, but then you read the caption.

No time to relax! Finished a full day of work, looking forward to working on a passion project this afternoon. #Icanseethebluerskieslikemulticoloredflowerfields

You scrolled through the comments, people saying how handsome he was, sending their coochie through the interwebs. You sighed, and liked the picture, and then posted your own comment.

I drifted off the Earth to march in your parade/Colors on me moving slowly

Bucky was waiting for your comment, ignoring all of the thirst replies and hoping that you’d respond. He replied with two perfect words.

Technicolor, girl.

Then came another slew of comments about his response and you started gaining random followers.

Oh lord, you thought, this was going to be a lot.

You decided to get control of yourself before 4 pm. If not, you would fall right into Bucky’s arms as soon as you arrived. And that wouldn't do, would it?

45 minutes later, you stood in front of Bucky Barnes’s brownstone for a minute making sure you had composure. You did a mental check of all your systems.

Heart rate: normal.

Breathing: easy.

Panties: dry.

You were confident that you were in full control and could be professional. You paused and bit your lip as you thought of the night before Bucky had made you feel like no one else had. You shook your head to clear it.

You could do it. You could be strong. He probably wasn’t as attractive as you were making him out to be. After all, it had been a while, you were horny, and now, you were fine.

Your hormones had made him out to be more than he actually was. He wasn’t all that. The dick was only amazing because you’d been sex starved. That was it. He had no control over you.

You stood up straight, your self-talk making you confident, you reached up to knock on the door.

Bucky watched your internal struggle on his laptop. He admired the body that he felt like he knew so well after just one night. Your choice of outfit was modest, but sexy. Blue chambray shirt over slim fit black pants and tank with wedge sandals. You were covered, professional, yet comfortable. There was only one upgrade he would recommend.

His blue chambray shirt. But all in due time.

Bucky studied your countenance and posture as you paused before you attempted to enter. The way you bit your lip made his cock shift, but he willed it down. You looked as if you were confident in your self restraint.

Perfect.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as you knocked, once, twice, three times and when he saw you look around and lick your lips, tentatively reaching for the digital lock on the door was when he went to open it.

Your heart started beating off kilter when your knock went unanswered.

System one down.

You moistened your lips and looked up and down the street. There was no mistaking what he said last night. It was the right time. And the right place. You had the combination to the door, but you remembered what happened the last time you entered. But you screwed your courage and reached for the lock.

The lock drew away from your hand and you moved as if you were falling down Alice’s rabbit hole when Bucky opened the door.

First sensation: the sound of The Internet playing on a sound system behind him and you knew you were in trouble.

Know you wrong/But sho you right/Home alone/For the night…

Second sensation: falling in slow motion into Bucky’s arms as you tried to follow the knob.

“Oh!”

You stumbled forward further into his chest.

“Hey!”

Bucky chuckled as he held you fast. You two stared at each other and you forgot to breathe. Damn, he was as handsome as you thought. Even more so.

System two down.

Bucky inhaled a good whiff of your scent and smiled down at you.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

You looked up at him, slightly confused as you attempted to process the next sensations of Bucky’s hands on your body, the smell of him all around you, and that sexy tenor in your ears. And that smile, that face, that mouth. Your serotonin spiked.

Bucky just continued to smile as you remembered yourself. You pulled back and straightened your clothes.

You concentrated hard for system three to stay afloat. But then you looked back up at him. i

Damn. He was beautiful.

“You okay?”

“No.”

Your panties were not as dry as they were. You wanted to climb the man in front of you, your hormones going crazy with flashbacks of the night before.

James Buchanan Barnes had put it down and now you were addicted.

But you couldn’t just flow with that. You were a professional.

“What-”

“I mean… no worries.”

You smiled brightly at him to cover your embarrassment.

“It was my fault, I should have waited–”

“My fault, I should have checked-”

You both spoke at the same time, and then laughed. You loved Bucky’s eye crinkles.

You cleared your throat and straightened your spine.

Bucky covered a moan in his throat with a cough. That body was his weakness. His cock thickened with thoughts of pulling you in his home and then fuck you on the hallway floor, but instead he stepped back and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

He smiled, and you blushed.

“How are you?”

Bucky ducked his head and smiled that smile at you. He looked so young.

“I’m good, Y/N. Real good. And you?”

His smile was hopeful, and full of knowing. God, you were a simp. Professional wasn’t going to work.

“I’m good, Bucky.”

You smiled at him and you two just stood there grinning.

Bucky just continued to stare at you. His smile and his nervousness was doing something to you, so you cleared your throat again. This was so not what you were expecting.

Finally, Bucky realized the awkwardness of the situation.

“Shit. I’m being rude. Come on into my office.”

You laughed again and followed him into the room, noticing his laptop. It made you grow warm.

“How did you sleep last night?” asked Bucky.

What a question.

He was closer that you thought, but farther away than you hoped. You turned around and looked at him, biting your lip and shifting on your feet.

“After a nice, hot bath, I slept like a baby.”

That eyebrow raised and made you squirm with the faint sensation of him inside you. You could still feel the effects of him.

“Hot bath, huh?”

“Yes, with Epsom salts. I was a bit… sore. Needed another this morning.”

You lowered your eyes to your fingers which were clutching your bag, and then raised them back up to his face. That tongue snaked out and licked his bottom lip and his teeth captured it. You dragged your eyes up to his and saw the desire there. But he also looked contrite.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

You interrupted him, fighting to keep your eyes wide open while they were on his. You tried to keep your voice from cracking when you said, “I liked it.”

Bucky took a deep breath and stepped to you.

“Y/N. I want to talk to you… about ground rules. With us.”

You lowered your eyes. You just knew he was going to shut all of this flirting down. You weren’t going to beg him, you just had to suck it up. Even though this thing between you felt like crack.

Bucky tipped your chin up, the feeling of his fingers on you shooting electricity straight to your core.

“I don’t want there to be any.”

“What?”

You were confused.

“I thought last night would get it out of my system, but it only served to make me want more.”

What was he saying?

“More? More what? You want more sex?”

You were thrilled and disappointed at the same time. Bucky Barnes had you stirred up.

“Of course I do.You’re beautiful. That body, the way you feel…I’m not dead.”

Bucky stood there and his eyes raked over you with possession. And you let hIm, wanting to belong to him. That realization had you shook.

“But I want more. More than just sex. And if you just want sex, then that can’t happen. Feelings would get involved. At least for me.”

Bucky drew in a ragged breath.

“So you have to know that you are in control of this…” he moved his hand between you both, “this situation. Because I can’t trust myself to not go headlong over this cliff with you…”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours and you tried to return his honest gaze. His words were so fucking charming that you were ready to jump as well. But you had work to do.

“I get it, Bucky. Let's just take it moment by moment. Right now, I’ll behave and be a good girl.”

Bucky released a light groan and shook his head as his eyes dilated slightly.

“Please stop. Unless you want me to…”

He stopped, and you could tell that he was holding himself back by the way his jaw clenched. The knowledge that you had this power over him was heady stuff. But you decided to chill.

“Okay, you’re right, we have work to do. Now is not the time for.. more.”

You looked up at him and bit your lip.

“Definitely not.”

“Totally.”

You took a deep breath.

“Where’s the manuscript?”

Bucky’s eyes swept over you one more time, then turned to his laptop, sat down and typed for a few seconds.

“In your inbox.”

He was calmer now, and anxious for you to read his story.

You sank down into the couch and opened your bag to grab your own laptop.

You looked up at him one more time before you started to read, and when you began, you were quickly immersed in the narrative.

An hour and half later, you looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

“Bucky… I…”

“Is it any good?”

You looked at him in a totally new light. This was a different level of intimacy than just sex. This was his soul laid bare..

“Is it any good? Bucky, it’s fantastic! The honesty, the raw emotion…thank you for trusting me with this.”

Bucky gave you a sad smile and your heart twisted. You centered yourself by observing details and realized that his tie was now off and his sleeves were rolled up. He seemed more relaxed and natural and now that you knew the full story of Bucky Barnes, he was a marvel.

You put your laptop aside and stared off into space, trying to process. Bucky watched your profile, anxious and wanting to pull you into an embrace. But you were setting the pace.

You looked back over at him after a full minute.

“Are you sure you want all of this out there? This gives insight into your most personal, devastating moments. It will give people a lot of access to things most people hold close. And it opens you up for a lot.”

You had an entirely new perspective on James Buchanan Barnes. One that went far beyond sex.

“Yes. Writing this down has helped me to heal. Publishing it will bring closure.”

Bucky stood up and poured himself a drink, and offered the brown liquor to you. You nodded and took the glass, realizing that it was probably Macallan 18.

This man had lost his wife, his whole life… you couldn’t imagine. And here you were wondering if he were playing games.

“It must have been horrifying.”

Bucky nodded and looked down into his drink.

“At first I had no memory of what I’d done and how I’d done it. I woke up in the hospital and saw the headlines that the CEO of CapTech had been found injured and sobbing hysterically as he cradled his wife in his good arm. The most anyone knew was that Sarah was killed in a failed robbery attempt. No one knew about the kidnapping.”

You rocked back in your seat, remembering the rumors around that event. Word was that Bucky went almost insane with grief.

You realized now that the rumor was true.

“My heart was buried in the casket with Sarah, and after everything that happened, I went into a type of hibernation, holed up in the Manhattan penthouse above our offices. Steve and Nat challenged me to get back to work a year later, telling me that they were taking up my slack.”

Bucky laughed bitterly, shook his head, and took a drink.

“It wasn’t until Sarah’s birthday two years later that I finally noticed that Sam was grieving as hard, if not harder, than I was. And I realized how selfish I’d become.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained look on his face and you shivered, feeling a fraction of the emotion he must have been feeling. You wanted to cry.

“Bucky… I’m so sorry.”

Bucky looked at you.

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N. It’s alright. I’m ok now.”

“But… how?”

Bucky smiled at you.

“Well, intense therapy for one. Family therapy with Sam. Running. Running with my friends, or… with strangers I bump into.”

He gave you a smile and you smiled back, hopelessly connected to this man.

“Another thing that has helped me immensely was meeting you and seeing the way you crafted our interview, and experiencing the response to it. I’m communicating about myself more with the public.

“Yes, I’ve noticed the response you’re getting on social media.”

Bucky just chuckled at your thirst trap shade.

“I need you to help me tell this story, Y/N. Please. Help me.”

You leaned toward him. You two gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Your story is powerful the way it is, but right now, the way it reads leaves you open to some liability for what happened to those men in that warehouse that day. I believe you that it was self defense, and defense of your wife. That was such a hard thing to live through and to write down. I have an idea on how to revise the story to keep the emotion, but protect you, and Sarah and Sam at the same time. Hear me out.”

—--

Two hours later, you’d sketched out revisions to Bucky’s memoir. You were emotionally spent. And starving. It was almost 8pm. You looked at Bucky when you were done and he read you like a book.

“I ordered Thai food 45 minutes ago when you were on a roll outlining. I hope you’re hungry.”

You sighed and smiled.

“Feed me and I will love you forever.”

You laughed at your joke, but Bucky did not.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N.”

Suddenly, the air was thick with need.

“About that… Bucky… I want to work with you on this project. But I can’t deny that… that I am attracted to you in the worst way.”

Bucky smiled and cocked his head.

“’The worst way.’ Is it that bad? I feel like I need to apologize.”

You nodded.

“It is bad. If we need to be professional.”

Bucky looked up in the air.

“Well. Think about last night…”

You shifted in your seat.

“I mean, we just did some pretty good work tonight. After what happened,…”

Bucky grinned

“Well. You’re not wrong…”

You grinned back at him. You just liked him so fucking much.

The tension was thick. You were about to climb onto Bucky’s lap when the doorbell rang. He looked disappointed, as if he was reading your mind again.

You stood up, drank some water and tried to get your head on straight. Bucky came back in with and you remembered your hunger for food.

When you’d eaten, Bucky had a suggestion.

“Listen, we did some good work, had some good food, but I don’t want the night to end. And it is Friday. Don’t need to get up early tomorrow.”

Bucky looked at you like a little boy again.

You raised your eyebrow at him

“What do you suggest this late that we haven’t already done today?”

Bucky grinned at you.

BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE/THE WAY THAT YOU FLIP YOUR HAIR GETS ME OVERWHELMED/BUT WHEN YOU SMILE AT THE GROUND, IT AINT HARD TO TELL/ YOU DON’T KNOW OH-OH/YOU DON’T KNOW YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!

You two were laughing through belting out the One Direction song at the top of your lungs at Upstairs Karaoke bar, not far from where you both lived. You were both jumping around and acted like idiots, as one does when they have a proper fun time doing Karaoke.

“Omg! Bucky! That was terrible.”

You grimaced, thinking about your singing voice.

“I bet you’ve reconsidered this idea after that.”

Bucky just ginned and swung the mic around in a circle as the music for the next song came up.

“I can do this all night.”

I can't fight this feeling any longer…

You grinned back and joined him in singing REO Speedwagon.

——

Three hours later, at almost one am, you walked back toward Bucky’s brownstone, and your apartment. When it came time to turn in the direction of your place, you took Bucky’s hand and tugged it toward his place. You walked in silence toward his house until you spoke up again.

“I’ve been through the gauntlet of emotions today, Bucky.. I mean in the last 24 hours.”

“Hmmmm?” said Bucky.

“Yeah. Lust, uncertainty, infatuation, nervousness, sympathy, motivation to write, attraction, hunger, silliness, and just plain fun. It feels like we’ve lived a lifetime today.”

Bucky stood on his stoop and looked down into your eyes.

“I feel the same. With maybe a couple more thrown in.”

You cocked your head.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Mmmmmm. Not ready to reveal that just yet. But I do want to explore a couple that you’ve mentioned. But, like I said earlier, that’s not my call.”

“Which ones?”

You didn’t know why you were holding your breath.

“Lust, infatuation, attraction… and hunger.”

You knew he wasn’t taling about Thai food.

“Oh.”

You tugged his hand, leading him up his own steps and put the code into his door.

“I would like to experience, more of those. And more of what you want. Bucky. Let’s drive off that cliff.”

With that, you pulled him inside.

You two kissed all the way down the hallway to his living room, where you ended up on his leather couch, pulling off your jacket and pulling the sweater he had put on over his shirtsleeves up over his head. You were feral for him.

And so, it seemed, he was for you.

“Come here, Doll.”

Bucky grabbed your neck and pulled your lips toward him as he devoured your mouth and his hand roamed your body.

“Been wanting to kiss you all night. Want to kiss your lips. I love the way they suck my tip.”

His hoarse voice in your ear did things to you, although you were confused at first until his put his hands in your leggings past your panties and used two thick fingers to part your pussy. He wasn’t talking about the lips on your face.

He used your slick to lubricate his digits and entered you, pumping a few times, watching as your head lolled back on your shoulders. He kissed your neck and cleavage as you succumbed to the pleasure. Then, he pulled his hand away and toward his mouth, earning a whine from you.

Bucky meant to just taste you, but that taste stirred something in his soul.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?”

He kissed you, letting you taste yourself on him, then rested his forehead on yours as he asked a question.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

“Let me suck your dick, Bucky.”

He pulled away from you, and looked you in the eyes.

“You’ll get anything to ask for.”

This was a different Bucky, not totally unlike the night before. Still sex on legs, but this Bucky was gentle, but still oh so sexy.

He pushed you backward until you stood up before him and he took off his shirt, and then his pants. You reached for him before he took off his underwear, pulling his waist band so that his hard cock slapped his abs. You stared down at it but didn’t touch it.

“I’ve been dreaming of this since last night, when you denied me.”

You swiped your thumb along his tip and then sucked it, making him lick his own lips.

“Sit down, please. Sir.”

Bucky sat, and then you kneeled in front of him on the hardwood floor. Bucky noticed and put a pillow down for you to kneel on. You smiled at him as he started stroking himself. You stared, your hand trailing song your neck and chest absentmindedly as you admired him.

“It really is a thing of beauty. Ever since I saw it the other day, I’ve been obsessed with it. How it would feel, how it would split me apart. How it would taste.”

You looked up at Bucky and it was like he’d been shot with a magazine of cupid’s arrows.

“Damn, Doll. You sure do have a way with words.”

You reached for him, grasping his shaft in one hand that looked small now, and his balls in the other.

“I’m not all talk…”

And then you leaned forward to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock, from his balls to the tip, stopping to suck the thick cap vigorously.

“Ooooh, shit… Doll. That mouth.”

Bucky’s head was sideways, cocking his head to watch you from that angle.

You opened your mouth and took as much as you could in your mouth and relaxed your throat to let him in there.

“Gotdamn.”

He placed his hand on your head but placed no pressure on you as you bobbed freely for his pleasure. And yours.

You placed your hands on his tensing thighs as you came apart as a result of your mouth, and he shuddered when you released him with a pop just to grab it again and trail your tongue back down his length. You drew his balls into your mouth, one at a time as you continued to stroke him off.

Bucky was looking at you with disbelief. He was putty in your hands. He leaned forward to kiss your sloppy face.

“I want to be inside you, wanna make love to you. Take off those clothes.”

He spoke to you softly, yet with a command your body remembered. You stood up slowly and tried to gracefully shed your garments as he stroked himself and looked up at you like you were the moon.

“So beautiful.”

Bucky reached out and made grabby hands for you as you stood naked before him.

”C’mere. Climb on. Let me in again.”

He continued to stare up at you, kissing your sternum and each breast as your thighs trembled on either side of his as you slid down over his mushroom cap.

“Buckyyyyyy.”

The feeling of him splitting you open caused a delicious pain, the soreness from the night before still evident. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to his size.

And you didn’t want to.

“Fuck me baby doll. Fuck me good. Fuck your self on this dick.”

Bucky slipped his hand between you two and started circling your clit in tight little circles.

“Oh my god Bucky! I can’t. Can’t breathe, can't concentrate…”

Your mind was mush as Bucky drove you toward your peak and up over the edge.

“Shhhh…”

Bucky leaned down to lick your nipple and suck briefly, teasing each breast in turn to work you up even more.

“Don’t think. Just feel. Release all thoughts. Cum for me.”

“Jeeeeeezzzzzzuzzzzzz!”

You came ferociously, clenching around Bucky and causing him to pulse inside you.

“Thaaat’s a good girl.”

He did not let up on your clit and drew your pleasure out until you were a complete mess on his lap.

Bucky licked a stripe up the middle of you, from your belly button to your cheek as you lay back in is arms, cock drunk, and still impaled on his very stiff dick.

“You tastes so fucking good, Doll. Tasted you in my dreams last night.”

You your surprise, he stood up, holding you and turned around to place you on the couch. The fine leather stuck to your sweaty skin, but you didn’t care.

“I don’t want to service you anymore.”

Bucky started pumping and telling you how he felt. All you could do was moan in response.

“Want to make love to you.”

He watched your fucked out face and started stroking more insistently.

“Of course, if you were mine, I’d service you anytime you needed it. Give you everything your heart, mind, pussy, body could want…”

“Yes, Bucky… yessssss.”

You were blissed out, hearing and feeling all the sensations you wanted at the moment.

“What are you doing to me doll?”

Bucky’s eyes moved from where you two were connected to your face.

“So beautiful…”

He grabbed your hand from where it was resting on his abs, picked it up, and brought it to his mouth, kissing your palm. Your back arched at the added sensation of his lips on your hand and the long fingers on his other hand grabbed your hip as he continued.

Bucky’s ice blue eyes were watching you as yours closed in ecstasy.

“Yes.”

He started moving your hip, long fingers digging in and sure to leave a bruise.

“You like this? Like how I’m giving it to you? You deserve it. Such a good girl.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

You started moving, loving the feel of the wiry hairs at the base of his cock against your clit.

“Feels so good. Feels like this dick is mine.”

Bucky’s eyes were focused on yours now. He held your stare, which bloomed new warmth in your belly.

“You want it to be yours?”

You didn't answer, just bit your lip and nodded.

Bucky’s hand snaked up behind you and grabbed the hair at your nape, causing your neck to bend and your body to arch backward.

He admired your form and the way your breasts moved as you did. You could feel him swell impossibly more than he already was.

“I’m trying to be gentle. Sweet and slow. Like a good girl should be fucked .But you just make me want to… make me wanna fuck you. Like…”

Bucky groaned and squeezed your hip.

“Take it, Bucky. It’s yours.This pussy is alll yours.”

You rotated your hips so as to feel all of him, and which caused him to spurt a little inside you.

“You trying to make you cum inside you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

You moaned as Bucky’s hand came around and grasped your throat skillfully. His other hand grows and pinched your nipples, causing your hips to move wildly.

“There’s my bad girl. Damn. I think I…..”

“Y-yes Sir?”

Bucky almost let it slip.

“I think I wanna cum inside.”

He leaned down to whisper into your ear. That voice making you clench harder around him.

“Would you like that? Hot load of cum in your tight little snatch?”

“Oh, ohhhh shittt. Yes!”

“So fucking pretty when you’re needy, Doll.”

The combination of filth and praise sent your over the edge and you detonated around him, causing Bucky to hike your knee over his elbow and start chasing his own end.

“I can’t… No. I won’t deny myself any longer. I want this. I want you and I’m gonna. Shit can I? Can I please cum inside?”

Bucky begging got you hot and bothered again. You nodded vigorously.

“Please, I want it too!”

“Circle that clit for me. Circlie it. Cum again for me just one… fuck, just once moreeeee!”

Bucky came inside you with a shout, shooting hot ropes of cum onto your cervix. You came when you felt that and as Bucky pumped like a jackrabbit inside you.

“Holy shit.”

He chuckled in your ear.

You curled yourself around Bucky and gladly accepted his weight for a few minutes. Then, he lifted himself off of you and knelt on the floor.

“Was that? Was that okay? Did you really want this?”

Bucky looked so earnest. You nodded.

“Yes Bucky. And I want more.”

You bit your lip as he smiled down at you.

“Wanna spend the night?”

You shook your head.

“No.”

Bucky’s smile dropped. You put your hand on his cheek..

“It’s practically morning. I’ll sleep over and let you feed me breakfast later. And then we’ll talk about spending the night.”

“Anything that’ll make you smile, Doll.”

Hit play on that reblog button! 😏

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b1ackoutartist · 1 year ago

Text

Songs of the Heart

natasha x reader

this was written randomly while I was bored in a meeting a few days ago...so no promises for correct grammar or anything

ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗ⴵ⧗

The evening sun set the sky ablaze in hues of orange, pink, and gold, the last light of the day reflecting off the calm waters of the small, secluded beach. The sand felt warm beneath Y/N’s feet, the remnants of the day’s heat captured between each grain.

She walked hand in hand with Natasha Romanoff, the global superstar with a voice that had enchanted millions. Away from the limelight, however, she was simply Tasha – Y/N's girlfriend.

Despite the roaring success of Natasha's new album, the two had managed to keep their relationship under wraps. Their getaways, like this hidden beach, were their sanctuary.

"I sometimes wonder," Natasha mused, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently, "if there’s a song out there that could truly describe what I feel when I’m with you."

Y/N chuckled, "Considering you're the superstar, shouldn't you be writing that song?"

Natasha stopped walking and turned to Y/N, her green eyes shimmering with a mix of mischief and warmth. "Maybe I already have," she whispered, pulling Y/N close. The world seemed to stand still as their lips met, a soft and lingering kiss, full of a year’s worth of shared secrets and love.

Pulling apart, Y/N grinned, "Then when do I get a private performance?"

As Natasha leaned her forehead against Y/N’s, she whispered, "How about tonight, under the stars?" A small gust of wind lightly tousled their hair, blending the fiery hue of Natasha's locks with Y/N's softer shades.

Y/N looked deep into Natasha's eyes, nodding. "I'd love that."

A few steps later, they came across a small alcove in the rocks. It was shielded on three sides, with a clear view of the ocean. The waves gently crashed, and the last rays of the sun gave the world an ethereal glow. Natasha spread out a picnic blanket she'd discreetly carried in her tote bag.

As Y/N laid back, Natasha carefully placed a delicate string of fairy lights around the alcove, turning it into a haven of soft, twinkling stars.

“I had a feeling we'd find the perfect spot,” Natasha smirked.

They settled down, side by side, their fingers intertwining. Y/N watched as Natasha took out a pair of wine glasses and poured a soft, rose-hued drink. “A little rosé to match the sunset?” Natasha proposed, raising her glass.

“To us,” Y/N countered, her glass meeting Natasha’s with a delicate chime.

Unbeknownst to them, a camouflaged photographer captured that intimate toast, the way their fingers remained interlocked even as they sipped, and the pure, unadulterated joy in their eyes.

The night deepened. At one point, Natasha gently nudged Y/N, pointing to the sky. A shooting star! Both women closed their eyes, making silent wishes. The hidden camera clicked again, capturing the profiles of two women, lost in dreams and wishes under a canopy of stars.

The following morning, Y/N entered her college, sensing a palpable shift. Whispers followed her, eyes discreetly peeking over textbooks and from behind laptops.

The palpable shift in the atmosphere was unmistakable. As Y/N made her way through the hallways, the air felt charged, alive with murmurs and stolen glances. She tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, but every hushed whisper, every furtive look, made her acutely aware of the scrutiny she was under.

Y/N's best friend, Kate, quickly joined her side, a mix of concern and surprise evident in her eyes. "Did you know about this?" Kate inquired, showing her phone screen which displayed the now-viral photos of Y/N and Natasha.

"I had no idea," Y/N whispered, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she'd developed over the years. "It was supposed to be a private evening."

Kate, ever the protective friend, frowned. "These paparazzi, they have no respect for boundaries."

Before Y/N could respond, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Natasha, attaching the link to an online article. Y/N's fingers hesitated for a moment before tapping on it. The article was filled with the same pictures Kate had just shown her – Y/N and Natasha beneath the canopy of fairy lights, their figures illuminated against the twilight sky, lost in each other's company.

The article's title read, “Beyond the Spotlight: Natasha Romanoff's Starry-Eyed Romance.” The words that followed painted a picture of two people deeply in love, away from the world's eyes. Though the tone was respectful, Y/N couldn't help but feel exposed.

Another buzz. Another message from Natasha: "I'm so sorry, detka. I never intended for this to happen. I just wanted a perfect night with you."

Y/N quickly typed back, "Natasha, it's okay. Yes, it was a secret but this doesn´t mean it can´t be private anymore."

A few moments later, Natasha responded, "You're incredible. I don't deserve you."

Kate, who had been watching the exchange over Y/N's shoulder, chuckled softly. "You two are so sweet it's almost sickening. In a good way."

Y/N laughed, nudging Kate with her elbow, "Thanks for that, Kate."

Kate wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her into a side hug. "Just remember," she whispered, "love like yours is rare. And even if the whole world knows about it, it doesn't change what you two have."

Y/N looked at the photos once more, Natasha's smile radiating warmth and love. She replied to Natasha, "We'll get through this together. Always."

And as Y/N walked through the college corridors, with Kate by her side, she felt a newfound sense of pride. Yes, their love story was now public, but it was theirs. And nothing could ever take that away.

#marvel #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov

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yns-world · 1 year ago

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Never Fade Away

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Fem!Idol!Reader A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name this is an extension of this, feel free to read :)

2022

nobody said showbiz was easy, but should it border hellish in order for something to change?

you loved johnny, and johnny loved you, that was a fact that you both knew so well— so when did things become so difficult?

in your and johnny’s case, opposites attract. but what you didn’t account for was that opposites also repel.

both of your lives were constantly in the spotlight, and this relationship even more so. with millions of eyes flicking over every move, every microtransaction, there is barely any room to just be.

you two were a match made for the stage, nobody could beat the stage presence you two shared when you performed, but this fame was taking a toll on you both.

in the short year you guys dated, it was like fire and ice. burning hot with passion and then freezing over with frostbite.

but as time went on, the cracks in the relationship began to show. the flaws in you both began to grow bigger and bigger but neither of you knew what to do, so you ignored it.

but ignoring was the absolute worst thing to do, and now you’re having screaming matches that last for hours, days, and then weeks of silence.

of course, the media is all over this.

“Johnny Silverhand’s New Victim”

“Y/S/N Seen Storming Out of Silverhand’s Apartment”

things could only go on for so long before you had to cut things off— something that nearly tore you to shreds.

johnny begged, he cried, he pleaded, he waited outside your apartment for hours on end. he damn-near kissed the ground you walked upon just so you would glance at him once more, because in his mind he cannot for the life of him make sense of why the perfect woman would just leave him.

but that’s exactly why you left. you left because he can’t fathom why the relationship was going to hell. you had to break it off because johnny was a sinking ship and you refuse to drown with him, no matter how much you might adore him.

that was johnny's breaking point and he hasn't been the same since.

while he dated you, he created his most iconic and best selling music that topped all the charts. you were his once-in-a-lifetime muse, and the world knew that.

but when you broke up, he lost that spark. his heart strings were torn apart and he couldn't pick up the guitar for months.

the only time he picked up the guitar was to play a solemn a-b-c tune while he recited the tragic poetry of his heart.

he'd release a few more singles that could all be chalked up to a last ditch effort of staring into the void and expelling the demons of his heart.

"Never Fade Away" was the last song johnny ever performed. that song was an homage to your memory and how you'd never fade from his own memories.

2023

it's been a year since you broke up with johnny and it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows for you, despite what johnny likes to tell the media.

there were countless nights where he was holding you from behind, his steady breath a calm rhythm in your ear, but you'd wake up everytime in a gasp, frantically searching for him on his side of the bed.

it took you months to finally wash the sheets because you wanted his scent to linger for as long as possible. his cologne that mixed with his musk.

the first few months were wretched, but you grew to resent him. deep down you still ached for his touch, but you had to lie and say you wanted him dead, if not, then the aching pain of his memory would kill you first.

august 20th, 2023. a day that was supposed to blur into the past endless days, but the last thing you expected was to see the man of your dreams—and nightmares—wearing a bulletproof vest and riding in a militech helicopter.

similarly, the last thing johnny expected was to see the architect of his heartbreak walking out of the Arasaka building.

waves of emotions flashed across his face—awe, joy, hurt, and finally resentment.

johnny's scowl deepened and his resolve strengthened. Arasaka was not only the architect of his filthy world, but also stole the love of his life.

it wasn't rational to think that, but when has johnny ever been rational?

just moments before, johnny only planned to tear down the building. but now that he's seen you—walking out of that corrupt building with all of your lavish clothes and accessories—his aim shifted.

Arasaka stole everything from him. they ruined him. he has nothing left to lose.

in that moment, he made his peace with death.

he overtook the machine gun and let out a visceral warcry that he’s been choking down for years— everyone would pay for his pain and suffering.

august 21st, 2023, the very next day. over 4,000 dead, a crazy terrorist group, and you at the epicenter of it all.

some would brush you off as irrelevant, others would dub you as the “terrorist’s girlfriend”, blaming you for the demise of a beloved singer.

but despite the chaos of the outside world, you could feel your internal universe crumble. johnny’s body hasn’t been found yet but you are sure that he’s gone.

you’re so sure because you felt the deepest part of your soul chip off. the connection is severed. there’s a void inside of you, and you know all-too-well what johnny used to say about an abyss.

“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3 i'm open to cyberpunk requests so feel free to send me one <3 also, lmk if y'all wanna see more idol!reader content and/or have any ideas since i'm kinda rocking with it :) as always, have a great day and i'll see y'all in the next one <3

#yns world #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 x reader #cyberpunk 2077 x v #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x v #cyberpunk 2077 johnny #cyberpunk 2077 johnny silverhand #cyberpunk johnny #requests open

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rhapsodynew · 2 months ago

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#love story

One soul for two.

58 years ago, on November 9, 1966, John Lennon first met Yoko Ono at an art show in London, where she presented her exhibition "Unfinished Paintings and Objects". To this day, many believe that this was the beginning of the end of the holiday era called the Beatles.

Without realizing it, he had long been looking for a woman who looked like his frivolous mother Julia and domineering aunt Mimi, who raised him. Everything was smooth in his marriage with his wife Susan — she did not burden him with herself, did not bother him with conversations, cooked well and was great in bed. Another man would have carried such a woman in his arms, but not Lennon. He lacked madness, passion, hooliganism. Critics will later write about this period of John's life:

"When you get everything in your youth, life becomes insanely boring and insipid. You will involuntarily start looking for adventures."

They first met in November 1966. Lennon, on the recommendation of a friend, went to the Indica gallery for an exhibition of "anti-art". The spacious hall was crowded, everyone was talking about something, discussing the latest news. John has always resisted this society of snobs and mawkish intellectuals. Out of boredom, he decided to take a walk and suddenly came across an inscription: "Beat it up." Lennon wanted to carry out his plan, but a voice called out to him: "Only for five shillings." That's what Yoko said.

This was the first time he saw the woman of his whole life, but he did not attach much importance to the fateful acquaintance. And the very next morning I received my first message from her — a book where She talked about the world order, the meaning of life and all that, which the famous musician, who had had enough of the love of the audience, did not care about. From that day on, the persistent Japanese woman continued to attack John with notes, calls and sudden meetings.

It was not the first time that the Japanese woman bewitched men with her unflattering beauty. She has already had two marriages under her belt — the first with the talented but poor composer Toshi Ichiyanagi, the second with producer Anthony Cox, who pulled Yoko out of depression several times, but, alas, did not deserve her love. The couple divorced as soon as Lennon's muse managed to win over his genius.

Susan immediately suspected something was wrong and demanded an explanation from John. He waved it off, saying that she was a crazy artist. But Yoko did not even think about giving up, she bent her line until Lennon's marriage finally fell apart. Leaving his wife, he shouted in his heart that their son Julian was the result of an extra bottle of whiskey. Then it seemed to Lennon that he had finally found true freedom. He would later say that Yoko had replaced all those who had left his life and forced him to look at himself and the world around him differently.

Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr still remember the day when Ono first entered the recording studio with Lennon. John didn't even want to listen to his friends who tried to explain to him that a woman didn't belong here. "She didn't know a damn thing about music, but she was telling Paul how to sing and me how to play the drums. We were furious, but there was nothing we could do about it. John didn't seem to hear us," Ringo said in an interview. In 1970, the legendary Liverpool Four broke up.

The band's business had not been good for a long time, the Beatles stopped writing new songs and were engaged in creativity separately, but millions of fans around the world refused to believe that the former team was no more. The angry audience immediately blamed Yoko for everything. The newspapermen happily picked up on this idea, and at the same moment headlines appeared in the press: "The Black Witch destroyed the Beatles", "The devil possessed the Liverpool four," but Lennon didn't care about it either: they completely dissolved into each other, even looked the same: shapeless clothes, round glasses and long Her hair was parted in the middle.

Shortly before the breakup of The Beatles, Lennon and Yoko set up their own studio where they could create whatever they wanted. It is here that John will record his famous album Imagine. Later, critics would recognize him as the best musician's record, and the real "Beatlemans" would grab their heads and curse his Japanese muse with renewed vigor.

In 1969, the mad lovers will get married in Gibraltar, the ceremony will last a record 72 minutes. And again, all traditions will be broken, it's not Yoko who will take John's last name, but he will take hers. Back in Amsterdam, the happy newlyweds will rent a presidential suite in one of the city's hotels, change into pajamas and... call together journalists. This "recumbent conference" lasted for several days, as the couple fought for world peace.

They were inseparable for four years, but the family idyll ended when Lennon noticed another woman at a party in honor of the election of the next American president. Tipsy, John took the guest into the next room and made love to her. Like a true Japanese woman, Yoko did not make scandals for her husband in public, but only asked him to hand over the flower and say that she still loves him.

John spent the next year and a half in Los Angeles, where It allowed him everything he loved so much: alcohol, fun, women. She even picked up her secretary, the pretty Mei Pang, as a lover. Lennon was happy at first: "You are the most understanding woman in the world," he told his wife on the phone.

Loneliness quickly got tired, John wanted to return, but Yoko was adamant. To her husband's pleas, she replied sharply: "You are not ready yet." As Mei Pang later told me, it all ended abruptly. Ono called her and said that she had found a person who would help John quit smoking. So Lennon came home. Reconciliation with his wife ended with the conception of a child, whom both had long despaired of waiting for after several miscarriages. The birth of Sean's son finally put everyone in their place.

Now John was tinkering with the baby, and Yoko was arranging exhibitions and buying up expensive real estate with the money left over from the Beatles ships. Friends often teased Lennon. "You sing about freedom, a world without property, and you live in a six-room apartment with separate rooms for furs and shoes." John himself had long been sick of such a life, but how could he contradict a woman he loved to distraction.

In 1980, the former Beatle would record the last Double Fantasy album in collaboration with Yoko Ono, and a week later he would be shot by a mad fan Mark Champion. In an interview, Lennon's killer will say that he thought John was a god, but at some point he came down to earth and became an ordinary person. "Then it seemed to me that I was going to shoot the picture on the album cover, a two—dimensional celebrity without real feelings," Champ confesses to reporters while already in prison. Former detractors will suddenly begin to sympathize with Yoko and feel sorry for the woman who lost the best man. But It will not even think of grieving.

A week after her husband's death, she will put up for auction his letters and albums, and six months later the media will tell that the eccentric Japanese woman has remarried. However, this marriage will be short-lived.

#love story #on this day #john lennon #yoko ono #the beatles #beat #beatlemania #music #my music #music love #musica #history music #spotify #rock music #rock #rock photography #my spotify #Spotify

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ginxyy · 2 months ago

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The Melody of Our Secret: A Muse's Tangled Tale

The crisp Parisian air still held the echo of my footsteps on the runway, the flashbulbs a fading memory. It was there, amidst the whirlwind of fashion and fleeting moments, that I met Lee Jihoon, better known as Woozi, the musical genius behind the celebrated K-Pop group, Seventeen. He saw me, a flicker of inspiration in his usually shy eyes, and I, captivated by his quiet intensity, felt a connection bloom. He was a melody I longed to understand, and I, unknowingly, became his muse.

The next few years were a whirlwind of melodies, of whispered secrets and stolen glances. Each Seventeen album, a testament to our love story, a soundtrack to our evolving relationship. Woozi's music became a diary, his lyrics hinting at the blossoming romance, the quiet joy, the anxieties of a budding love. It was our secret language, understood by millions yet known intimately by only two. He was my anchor, my solace in the unfamiliar world I'd stumbled into. We were a symphony, two halves of a beautifully composed song.

But life, as it often does, introduced a discordant note. Xu Minghao, the breathtakingly talented dancer, known as The8, was a part of Seventeen's vibrant tapestry. His warmth was a sunbeam, his presence a calming balm. He was a different kind of melody, unexpected yet enchanting. His kind eyes and gentle smile drew me in, and before I knew it, I was captivated. He became my confidant, the one who understood the pressures of the spotlight and the loneliness of being a muse. He kept me warm when Woozi was consumed by the studio, his days and nights dedicated to crafting musical masterpieces.

Minghao filled the gaps Woozi's dedication left behind. He was attentive, understanding, and his affection was a soothing balm to my soul. It was a dangerous dance, a slow waltz on a precipice, where the line between friendship and something more blurred into a hazy twilight. I became infatuated with him, just as he did with me. Our shared moments became precious, a refuge from the chaos of our lives. It was a secret we held close, a melody played softly under the cover of darkness.

Everything felt perfect, a fragile harmony in the midst of a tumultuous life. The world saw Seventeen, a group of talented young men, unaware of the intricate web that intertwined us. The music, our secret language, continued to blossom, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

And then, it shattered.

Seungcheol, the leader, the pillar of their world, saw us. He witnessed the unspoken language of our bodies, the intimate gesture in the Hybe parking lot, a moment of vulnerability that exposed our secret. The world, which had been a carefully constructed tapestry of manufactured perfection and carefully curated images, crumbled around me. The melody of our secret was no longer a whisper, but a deafening roar, echoing through the corridors of the agency and threatening to tear apart the carefully woven fabric of Seventeen.

The aftermath was a chaotic symphony of hurt, betrayal, and shattered dreams. Woozi, the boy whose music had been my sanctuary, was wounded. His carefully guarded world, his carefully crafted melodies, were now tainted by my indiscretion. The music that had been our haven, now felt like a constant reminder of the pain we'd inflicted. Minghao, consumed by guilt and a conflicted heart, retreated into the shadows. The warmth that had drawn me to him now felt like a cold, distant memory.

The harmony we'd strived for, the fragile balance we'd attempted to maintain, shattered into a thousand pieces. The world of Seventeen, once a stage for our unspoken love, had become a battlefield of pain and regret. I was no longer a muse, but a catalyst for discord, a discordant note in a symphony that was once so beautiful.

The question remained: could the melody ever be restored? Could the shattered pieces be reassembled into a harmonious whole? Or was our secret, our love, destined to become a melancholic ballad, a haunting reminder of a love lost amidst the cacophony of fame and the relentless pursuit of perfection? The answer, like the ever-changing tides, remained elusive, a mystery hidden within the complex chords of Seventeen's future.

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byemambo · 6 months ago

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We Are Main Characters as BTS Songs: A Deep Dive

Everyone on my dash is assigning BTS songs to the We Are characters and I have to put in my two cents actually 5 million dollars because I can't be normal or shorthanded about anything but this time it's about We Are and music:

Peem - Just One Day

I wanna be locked in you and swim in you I want to know you more, an explorer venturing through your deep forest of mystery I appreciate the masterpiece that is you because your existence alone is art

Just One Day always had the nostalgic, sitting in an empty classroom on a sunny day with the windows open and the curtains flowing from the wind, and I associate that feeling of warmth and solace with Peem. He's always been someone with a big heart and we can see that through his upbringing with a loving family and earning a solid group of friends and juniors that love and appreciate him just as much, if not more than how much he loves and appreciates them. Despite their rough beginning, slowly but surely, Phum and Peem become each other's safe space and lets each other enter into their individual worlds: the art studio, Phum's apartment with his stuffed plushies, the festival, the art gallery, the beach, the pool, Peem's hometown in Chiang Mai. Once both of them start exploring each other's existence and leaving room for vulnerability, Peem showers Phum with affirmations (along with teasing of course) and the physical touch he was depleted of, while also leaving room for his own boundaries and desires that build up their relationship rather than beating down.

From constantly reminding Phum that he validates his existence, to allowing Phum to express his own affection through physical touch and words of affirmation, Peem becomes someone that attracts the admiration of others. He becomes people's home away from home, or a home that one never had. Not only from Phum, but also from Kluen. His selflessness and attention to detail is vital for long lasting relationship with others, but one of his best qualities will always be his temperament. That he doesn't have to condemn himself to hell on earth, either for himself or for others. That he can be content over the smallest of things, disappointed when things don't go his way, angry when he confronts mistreatment from others, calmness and empathy when letting another person down but still having the capacity to continue on with how a dynamic currently stands and at the same time, having the ability to relinquish and let go of feelings and experiences that no longer serve him. Now that Phum has earned a prominent spot in his life, as a fellow artist, I can only imagine how exciting it is to claim and adore your muse.

Phum - Hold Me Tight

Hold me tight, hug me Can you trust me? Can you trust me? Can you trust me? Pull me in tight

Hold Me Tight is one of my favorite songs, especially when I'm feeling down and need music to reflect that. Phum has always been a shut off person that hid behind money and arrogance to brush off how much his trauma affects his every day living. Knowing that his family failed to meet his emotional needs as a child and neglected him once he was sent abroad, he lived a life full of inconsistency from the people who should be most important to him, Fang being the only solidarity in his life that he can really allow himself to exist in his own right. Once he meets Peem, he uses their unusual circumstances to bring entertainment into his life, even if it meant compromising someone else's comfort and security. However, a turning point takes place around the time he ditched Peem at the mall in episode 3, believing he would give up after some time and wondering why Peem continued to wait. Once Peem establishes a moment of clarity by telling Phum "You said to wait, so I did," and setting a boundary due to his mistreatment, Phum confronts his complicated relationship with the integrity of others. How there are people who are consistent in saying what they mean and meaning what they say: if he met someone that does just that, that doesn't make him different from those that consistently disappointed him.

We see Phum's first attempt at accountability by apologizing to Peem, which he was very reluctant on doing so due to his value system at the time. But knowing that he must earn the trust and presence of Peem just as everyone else that's important to Peem has earned, Phum starts realizing why so many people love and adore Peem. His straightforwardness, his passion, his wit, but most importantly, his compassion are all things that become a karmic mirror to others, forcing those around him to start questioning their own values and beliefs and if they deem so, change for the better. Once Phum does earn his way into Peem's daily life, Peem becomes a safe space for Phum, allowing him to express who he is and how he deals with his response to dysfunction: confrontation rather than avoidance. Even though he'd rather not say, Peem understood this immediately and offered his reassurance through physical touch: holding him tight.

Q - Still Life (with Anderson .Paak)

I'm still life, but I'm movin' Just live now, goin' forward, yeah A still life that does not stop, keep my flower blooming again Gimme no name 'cause I'm untitled (Oh, yeah) My life is on display, still life, still life

Still Life is such a groovy and upbeat song, which I feel best suits Q as a person. Someone full of passion and care for his work and the people most important to him, he becomes someone where "what you see is what you get." Just his mere existence seeks out praise, admiration, and respect, which of course the best example of this is Toey's relationship with him pre mentee and post mentee. Q has very few areas where his life isn't transparent or straightforward, but he had been protective of revealing much information about his first love or allowing someone to enter his arena.

I think of Q as someone that has capacity in candidly opening up to his friends or noverbally through his own artistic expression, but when it comes to love (which I've seen people claim his demisexuality which as a fellow member, I 100% agree), an entirely different battlefield presents itself. The challenges of opening your heart to others due to immense protection and guard, the lengths we go by jumping to conclusions or setting ourselves up for failure by choosing inaction to prevent further disappointment and guilt rather than action in fear of not being met with the same feelings or worse, hatred and disregard. Knowing how special his relationship was with Milk Frappe Boy as Pencil Senior, Q reveals a sensitive side that's avoidant of deceit, entertainment from his personal matters, and the potential of pursuing someone who cannot return the same feelings and being met with heartache. Regardless of the trials and errors when he established his coping mechanisms to move on from the past, once he is convinced and torn apart of his logical fallacies, Q becomes the same, if not more, vibrant and radiant person he had always been. You can see his love and adoration with Toey once they made up and he took that final leap of fate.

Toey - Euphoria

You are the sunlight that rose again in my life A reincarnation of my childhood dreams I don't know what these emotions are Am I still dreaming?

Toey is easily one of my favorite characters and how much glow and aura he has with the other characters, which is how I feel when listening to Euphoria. We see how Tan is the main bridge between all the different friend groups and dynamics, but Toey also plays this role in a different way by being the junior/younger brother figure that everyone wishes to take care of and adore. His energy is full of life and magnetic in pulling anyone in, as he creates soft spots for a lot of the people in his life. Peem and Q being his seniors/mentor that he can play with and tease, Phum and Fang being older brothers that he can cling onto as they protect him.

The backstory of Milk Frappe Boy and Pencil Senior is one of the sweetest depictions of young romance I've seen in awhile and really encapsulates the puppy love that Toey has for Q before they truly knew each other and the journey they embarked on. Knowing how Toey risked going to the same school as Q despite having plans to study abroad, we can see how Toey is willing to take risks and chase after his dreams, while still being someone who's afraid of the ever changing future if his past is revealed to the person he loves and honors the most. Feeling like his world filled with affection and "one sided love" shattered when his feelings were accidentally revealed to Q and presenting itself as if his actions were a joke and form of entertainment for the rest of the group due to their involvement, we see Toey fall apart as if he woke up from his dream. Luckily, which I can see how Q's temperament as a person allowed this transition to flow in a realistic way, Q yields to Toey shortly after their misunderstanding, bringing their relationship back full circle and entering a new era of authentic love and desire for the whole world to see, not just between them in their own intimate world.

Tan - Friends

A somewhat strange kid Me from the moon, you from the stars Our conversations were like homework BFFs on one day, enemies on another I just wanna understand

Friends is such a heartfelt song that reflects the upbringing and memories of the BTS members, but I feel that it suits Tan well. It highlights the duality of Tan's personality, where he has a very lovable and bright aura with various moments of silliness and fun, but once those moments pass or may be inappropriate in certain situations, Tan is actually a very serious person when it comes to caring for the people who mean most to him. Knowing the backstory of how his friends mentioned his days of being a playboy and getting into fights (which I can't get over that being how he and Fang first meet), we see him softening up after realizing the worth and value of those that care so deeply about him to the point where he must choose between having them remain an important part in his life or to continue heading down a rocky decent from his resorts to violence and impulsivity.

Although impressions with Fang were far from glamorous (which I talked about in one of my deep dives!), Tan's walls start crumbling once he realized that he must do better for his loved ones, not for his sake but for theirs. That his friends and loved ones deserve someone of honor and integrity. And he does just that: becoming the lovely and compassionate person he is today. His emotional intelligence is well balanced, making room for both reassurance and playfulness when dealing with the mental distress of others. Tan has an innate quality of protectiveness and care for the people around him, which we see most clearly with Fang throughout the series but also seeing him taking care of Peem's dad in episode 14 when bringing him a drink after he arrives home. He has one of the purest hearts and easily became one of my favorite characters in media, not just QL!

Khaofang - Love is Not Over

Love is so painful Goodbayes are even more painful I can’t go on if you’re not here Love me, love me Come back to my arms

Love is Not Over is one of my top BTS songs, which gives me similar feelings as Hold Me Tight but with more longing and adoration. Fang has also become one of my favorite characters due the handling of the juxtapositions he deals with on so many levels. His inability to yield between his younger brother feuding with their parents, his deep rooted insecurities of his sensitivity and "unattractive" moments of vulnerability, his abandonment issues and dealing with survivor's guilt. He is such a well written and admirable character and this reveals itself once Tan integrates himself back into his life, which took a pause from their times in high school where they were like water and fire.

Because of his family's dysfunction and angst, Fang also deals with the inconsistencies and develops his own coping mechanisms with the trauma, through a reserved facade which actually contains the deepest of wounds. Feeling as though it's his responsibility to sacrifice himself for the family to not enter war times, refraining from expressing himself from shyness and fear of abandonment. His definition of love is complicated and pessimistic, his anxiety driving a wedge between his desire for love while questioning if he's worthy of it. When he revealed to Tan that if he ever chose to leave, to tell him so he could prepare his heart for the heartache, Tan immediately inserts confidence in their relationship through his vocal expression of devote and earnest love for Fang, showing Fang that there's nothing to fear and that he will remain in his life for the long run. Once this moment occurs, we can see just how much more expressive and bold Fang becomes in displaying his love for Tan, realizing that their love isn't over, and won't be for a long time.

Chain - Embarrassed

Why am I getting weirder in front of you? I’m not a pre-schooler but why is everything so childish? Look at my eyes, my jokes aren’t serious Saying this is so hard, I like you

Embarrassed/Blanket Kick is one of the most wholesome songs and I think is describes Chain's dynamic with Pun within the friend group. Someone who is clearly displaying individual interest and adoration towards Pun, however, Pun's density and ignorance whittles each and every moment. Even if Pun doesn't show clear signs of understanding Chain's true feelings towards him, we can see how reliable and attached Pun is to Chain on a platonic level. How Chain is always willing to yield himself in taking care of Pun's needs, whether it's sitting through and accompanying his off key singing, being the first person to call when Pun finds the injured bird, going out of his way to coparent the bird back to good health while also caring for Pun (the bird being called Guin is just too cute).

Even though Chain's efforts in being alongside Pun and his shenanigans are physical, as of episode 14, we still haven't had a moment of clarity in addressing the elephant in the room and finally dedicating their feelings for one another, becoming the slowest of slow burns. I can only imagine all the moments they share where a moment of intimacy comes up and Chain has every opportunity to confess, however, I know they will arrive at their destination in due time and in their own silly little way. It's one thing to be physically present for the person that means most to you: it's another thing to lay out your feelings with the chance that they won't be reciprocated. The battle between "should I or should I not" is what Chain is currently dealing with, only making you want to root for their success even more.

Pun - Moon

You were the one that made your way to me I do believe your galaxy, I want to listen to your melody Your stars in the Milky Way, don't forget that I found you anyways

Pun's character has always been so endearing to me and on the surface, seems like he's just serves as comedic relief alongside other characters that serve the same function. However, we start to see the multitude of qualities Pun exhibits as a person and how he carries himself: that even though he's usually upbeat and playful with lots of unserious moments, he's a deeply empathetic person that wants to give back to the world around him. Although he needs lots of help with navigating the world sometimes, Chain has become such a person that it's second nature to rely on him for all sorts of things, truly becoming the Moon revolving around the Sun. However, the beauty of Pun's relationship with Chain is just how unconditional Chain's care and willingness to do just about anything for Pun is crystal clear.

I understand Chain's innate attraction to Pun and his character, just based on individual moments throughout the series that establish Pun has someone that doesn't have a mean bone in his body. How despite his silliness, he's actually a well rounded individual that has the ability to command a room and establish himself in a leader position through his empathy and desire to make the world more beautiful (which always cracks all of us up that he's a political science major). Even though we know Pun is capable of taking care of things himself if need be, he's someone who allows himself to let go of his seriousness and seek out help and assistance from those around him in any given moment that feels necessary. I think his relationship with Chain really encapsulates the trajectory of where Peem and Phum's relationship is slowly amounting to: that there doesn't have to be a moment where you have to handle life alone and that someone is willfully ready to be by your side. Pun is slowly starting to realize how much Chain has been by his side through all their adventures, which makes me root for their slow burn that will end in a wholesome establishment of what their relationship truly became over the course of the series: an established married couple.

This was so fun to sit and talk about despite not being a hardcore BTS fan like I used to back in the day, however, maybe I'll assign my more current favorite group songs to the We Are characters. I'm thinking ATEEZ, THE BOYZ, ONEWE, DAY6, Xdinary Hereos, definitely groups with well written lyrical content and a diverse range of genres.

#we are #we are the series #thai bl #thai series #bl series #bts #bts songs #mambo.speaks

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nrivanwrites · 7 months ago

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wake up new writeblr intro just dropped

been nine months since my last one so we are updating :)

my name is ro, I'm 22 years old, from the US. I recently graduated from college with a double major in English Literature and Theatre. I work full time as a board certified optician.

I primarily write historical fiction and fantasy, though I've dabbled in sci-fi on occasion. I like writing novels, short stories, stage plays, and poetry.

(Also fanfiction, but I have internalized shame etc etc).

I'm currently working on a smorgasbord of projects, but here's intros for some of them!

please please please let me know if you are interested in being added to the tag lists for any of them.

THE LAST LORINEAN; epic fantasy, draft ??. A young woman finds out she is host to a powerful being that the immortal emperor really wants dead. She learns magic, secrets, makes some friends, etc etc. This the OG baby of my writing career, and oh boy is she epic. Haven't touched her since nanowrimo because it's very easy to burn out on her. There's twins, casual queerness, lots of world building, and most especially there is the love I have for this story.

THE DAUGHTER OF DENMARK; historical fantasy, draft two. Hamlet is a woman, Christianity has only just left Denmark, and the politics are even more complicated than before. Does it count as draft two when I never finished the first one? This novel is an adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet with a few key points changed. While I would describe this as historical fantasy, it definitely leans more fantasy than historical...

EAT HER HEART OUT; drama, draft one. An adaptation of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter that doesn't forget about Demeter. Adding to my compendium of Greek adaptations, this is split between Persephone's time in the Underworld, Demeter's time with the mortals in Eleusis, and the Muses narrating the ordeal à la true crime podcasters.

ATLANTIS; epic sci-fantasy, draft one. A post-apocalyptic Earth and the island kingdom of Atlantis are reconnected via portal after thousands of years apart. This story isn't about the reconnection, though—it's about the politics of humans and atlanteans, a civil war between nobles, and the return of gods whose worship is forbidden. It's either draft one or draft ten, depending on if you count the ten million first chapters I've written. I am technically co-writing this with an old friend! We've been roleplaying buddies for almost a decade, and have been building this world and this story for almost as long. I'm turning our back and forth into novels!

#writeblr #creative writing #writeblr intro #writing community #wip intro

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catgirlshauna · 11 months ago

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holy shit guys really proud of this one hope yall enjoy 😠🗣️

warnings: smut, bad jokes, gp!reneé

words: 2100

being a composer of music was hard, especially when you composed for artists who aren't exactly huge yet. you believe in them the most, though, they're your favorite kind of people to work with. humble, kind, just trying to get to stardom. but your new client had been kept a secret from you by your managers. why? you have no idea. what could possibly freak you out so bad that they had to hide it?

fucking reneé rapp. thee regina george, which was debatable, but you don't care. she is your favorite. yours. her voice is beautiful, her face is beautiful, her personality is by far the best you've seen. she is like finding gold in a pan of gravel, diamonds amongst coal.

today is the day you meet her. you're nervous, you've applied three layers of deodorant with a nice unisex cologne to cover it up. your heart is absolutely pounding, your chest thumping to the beat of the song they sent you samples of. you sit in your studio, which happens to be in your apartment, a luxury you could afford thanks to people like reneé, and wait patiently for her to arrive.

the knock at your door is done to the tune of jingle bells, which did in fact shock you into freezing. it's june? you snort and move to open the door, revealing the happy-go-lucky blonde bouncing on her feet. adhd. or anxiety. you could relate.

“please, come in.” you step to the side, welcoming her into your apartment. she steps in, hands intertwined behind her back as she closely examines the art and posters on your walls.

“beyoncé?” reneé grins, looking over at you for a moment.

“of course.” you reply quickly, hopelessly begging her with your eyes to follow you to your studio. she just smiles, shaking her head and whispering ‘not yet’.

“i like your place.” she muses, picking up books and reading the covers out loud to herself. “like your uh, books, too..” she adds, adjusting the glasses on her nose that look just a little too dirty to actually see out of.

“um, miss rapp?”

“yeah?” you have her full attention now. horrifying.

“can we go to the studio now…? i'd like to show you some lyrics i thought of the other day.” you try not to sound too… pushy? if you did, reneé does not notice, and nods eagerly as she follows you into the closet-like room. ah. you never said your studio was big. you cramp into your chair, gesturing for her to sit as well.

“kinda romantic in here… is that the point?” reneé wiggles her eyebrows under her glasses. you sputter, grabbing the remote and changing the color to a calm blue. reneé pouts. “don't wanna feel romantic with me?”

“not really. anyway, please read.” you push the pages of heavily edited lyrics into her hands. she sighs, adjusting her glasses once again and reading your papers. you hope to god she likes them, because? you don't have an option b. you weren't given enough time, enough warning, that you'd be working with one of your favorite artists in the world.

she ‘mhm’s’ a couple times, puts the papers down, and grins this million dollar smile at you.

“i love it. i knew my people chose you for a reason.” she beams, placing her hand over yours, her thumb rubbing over the skin of your knuckles. “great job, baby.”

the second time you see reneé is unexpected, rather surprising, and had you throwing your phone at the wall with a scream. on your screen appears a picture of reneé, with very little clothes on. the lingerie hugged her curves like rivers hug canyons, the way her tits pushed up just perfectly in her lacey bra, her puffy nipples perked and played with in one hand, and the thong, that left nothing to the imagination.

you wanted to scream again, but you were pretty sure you just woke up your neighbors. the message that popped up after makes you nearly pass out.

hot blonde mommy 🤕: oopsy

you put your phone down, eyes wide and fingers pinched at your nose.

hot blonde mommy 🤕: that was 4 angourie sorry, needed her professional opinion on my nudes LMAO

you put your fucking phone down again, and hid it under a pillow this time. your hands shook, and your stomach was buzzing in excitement. were you about to masturbate? to that? the definite answer was yes, and it was the best orgasm potentially ever.

the third time you see reneé, you're sat next to each other at a big round table, her managers on the other side. it's a business meeting, a very official one, that has you so stressed out you can't seem to sit still. and reneé, being reneé, notices almost immediately. the way your leg bounces underneath the table, the way you pick at the skin of your fingers. she notices it all. and she takes initiative, grabbing your hand into her own and intertwining your fingers. she rubs her thumb over your knuckles, soft, soothing circles that have you relaxing into your chair. she leans over to whisper, “relax, baby. i'm right here.” i'm right here. you flush, your heart racing in your chest.

one thing you love about reneé is how soft she is behind closed doors, how caring and quiet she can be. you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of your own thoughts… does she like me? you think as she stares into your eyes, completely ignoring the very important men talking to her. the blue of her eyes, reminiscent of the polar ice caps, makes you shiver in your seat. they're so soft, so kind, that you couldn't imagine looking anywhere else.

that is until… one of your bosses clears his throat. “the meeting is over. did you pick up anything of importance?” he smiles knowingly, the holding of hands seems to not have gone unnoticed.

“yeah. yeah… i've picked up a lot of things.” you clear your throat, letting go of reneé’s hand and standing quite abruptly. “i gotta go but um… this was really insightful.” you give reneé what you hope is a beaming smile, before walking out of the room with a skip in your step. not only were you excited to hit your dab pen, you were excited that reneé seems to feel for you what you might feel for her!

the fifth time you meet reneé… well, she's drunk, on the phone, begging to come over. who are you to say no? of course you were going to say yes! what idiot wouldn't want reneé rapp drunk in their apartment?

she shows up at your door with a crooked grin, pushing her way in as you quickly shut the door behind her.

“haven't been here in a while… anything change while mama was gone?” reneé giggles, kicking off her heels and draping her body over your entire couch. you scoot her over, gently, and sit next to her.

“nah. i know unfamiliar things stress you out.” you say, a soft smile on your face as you stare down at her. she reaches her hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek with her thumb.

“why do you care so much?” reneé asks suddenly, her eyes wide. her pupils are blown wide, whether it be from the alcohol or the loving stare she usually gives you, you couldn’t tell.

“cause i like you.” you say quietly, placing your hand over her own. she lets out a huff, a breath of surprise, and lets her hand tremble against your face.

“you like me?”

“more than anything.”

it's been a month since you and reneé started dating, and she's been getting extremely handsy as of late. saying sweetly dirty things over the phone while she's away for her tour, her hand settling right on your thigh with the lightest of squeezes to remind you she's there.

you two haven't gone beyond making out and palming at each other, but reneé has made it very clear that she wants more. which is why… well, she's set up a date at her apartment in LA. she promises it's going to be so romantic and perfect, then asks you to open the gift she left on her bed. the lingerie set she was wearing in that picture. in pink.

you nearly pass out when she texts you.

hot blonde mommy 🤕: wear it for me… please, baby?

you don't question it, not at all, and immediately find yourself putting it on. it's tight, hugging your curves, making you look as beautiful as it made her.

hot blonde mommy 🤕: is it on

you set yourself up in front of her full body mirror, sitting on your knees with your legs spread to reveal the parts of your body you know reneé likes best. the picture is sent, and not more than five seconds later she's typing already.

hot blonde mommy 🤕: let me in, baby, i'm outside :(

you run to the door, nearly slipping in your socks on the hardwood floors of your apartment. as soon as the lock is unlocked, the door is pushed open. standing on the other side? reneé, slowly squaring up to you, pressing her chest against your shoulder.

“you look… fucking amazing.” she breathes, embracing you softly. her lips graze the skin of your throat, and you find yourself tilting your head so she can get a better taste. “are you.. ready?” reneé whispers into your neck, inching her kisses towards your ear. she's breathing heavily, nearly panting because of how worked up she is.

you gently remove yourself from her body for a moment, a shy smile on your face. “can i..?” referring to her clothes, which reneé forgot existed for a moment. she quickly rids herself of her sweatpants and sweater, but now that she's in her panties? she makes it a goddamn show. she hooks her fingers into her panties and pullssss them down, revealing her aching dick.

you know you've soaked through your pretty panties already, but you don't care.

“can i put it in?” reneé pants, grinding her cock against your thigh as she pushes you down onto the bed, climbing over the top of you and straddling your hips. you can't speak, you can only blush and whimper out a yes.

reneé positions herself in front of your aching hole, pushing your panties to the side. she’s plunging in slow, her hips stuttering slightly at how tight and wet you are for her. she's had plenty of dates before, ones that ended in mind blowing sex, but for some reason she knew… this was going to be different.

she takes the lace off of your chest, revealing neglected nipples that begged for her full attention. reneé revels in the feeling of eye contact, so brushes her nose against yours, silently asking you to look her in the eyes. you flush, yet your eyes are opening to stare back into hers. she smiles, sickly sweet, before taking one of your nipples into her mouth. her tongue licks at you lazily, and soon her hips start to move again. she fucks you low and slow, like ribs at the barbecues she'd attend with her parents in north carolina.

“you don't mind if i bite, do you, baby?” reneé purrs, digging her teeth into the flesh by your nipple. you arch your chest forward into her mouth, while simultaneously arching your back to get her deeper inside of you.

she quickens her thrusts, her hands gripping at your hips to pull you into her cock. reneé bites her lip to stop from moaning, letting out a whimper. “can i cum in you, sweet thing?” she asks, her voice husky as she whispers it into your ear. you squirm in her grasp for a moment.

“never.. been cum in before.” you mutter, looking off to the side in embarrassment. reneé smiles, oh so sweetly, before pressing you into a more provocative position. a mating press. she whispers a soft ‘fuck’ and speeds up her thrusts.

“please let me cum in you, baby…” she begs, staring into your eyes pleadingly, almost like a lost puppy. you bite your lip and nod, then gasp as she fucks you harder, snapping her hips into yours. “feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me…” reneé nearly growls, her hips stuttering as she plunges herself as deep as she’ll go. you feel all the air leave your lungs as her cum fills you, and can barely recover before she's taking you into a deep kiss. “i can't wait to do this again, sweetheart.”

#renee rapp #reneé rapp x reader

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