#i did want to get this out there as soon as i could

[simpforboys]

Frat!perv!manipulator!Rafe that finally gets a taste of topper’s dumb gf…

(Warnings: oral f receiving, manipulation, drunk/dubcon, cursing, praise, fingering, cheating)

series masterlist

Fuck.

Is all Rafe could think of when he saw you, wearing that white shirt that had your tits spilling out and showing off your tummy.

Not even mentioning that denim skirt you always seemed to wore. All he wanted to do was fold it up and dry hump the shit out of you like he did two weeks ago.

How was Topper such a lucky bastard?

You had a warm smile on your face, a red solo cup in your fingers as you giggled at something your boyfriend was drunkenly rambling on about.

It was a big party night at Outer Banks University, specifically for Alpha Sigma Phi. One where every frat guy got laid, except Rafe tonight. He couldn’t care less about the other girls’ eyes on him.

Not when your eyes weren’t on him.

Rafe was tipsy. He would prefer to be drunk, but he knew he should probably be somewhat aware of his actions. Especially since you were dressed so fucking deliciously.

As soon as Topper left your side, though, Rafe stalked over to you like a predator.

“Hi, sweetness.” He coos, blue eyes locked on your tits before flickering back up to that pretty face he’s so obsessed with.

“Hi, Rafey.” You drunkenly giggle, barely standing on your own two feet.

“Y’look like a mess, baby.” He teases, his big fingers moving to gently poke where the fabric of your shirt is exposing your soft tummy.

You squirmed a bit at the action, almost falling over. Which, Rafe clearly planned for, since his big arms caught you.

“Woah, y/n. Maybe I should take ya upstairs, huh? Back t’mine and Top’s room?”

He was acting like a concerned friend, but in reality, he wanted to get you away from all the prying eyes. Alone.

“Uhmm…” you just hummed unsurely, but didn’t protest when Rafe wrapped his arm around your waist and started guiding you through the crowded house, all the way upstairs into his and Topper’s shared bedroom.

He helped you slip your shoes off, your legs stumbling over to your boyfriend’s twin xl bed before Rafe’s big hands lifted your hips to set you down carefully on it.

“There ya go, good girl.” He murmurs softly, although his cock is painfully hard in his jeans.

“Thank you, Rafey.” You mumble out drunkenly, laying back on the mattress, angling your head so it’s not propped up against the wall while your hips still face the side of the bed.

“Anythin’ f’you, sweet girl. Y’know that.” He coos, his perverted eyes automatically drifting down to where your thighs are spread a bit, revealing a damp spot on your pretty panties.

“Oh, babygirl… look a’ya. All wet ‘n needy f’me. S’your boyfriend takin’ proper care o’ya?”

His thumb came over to start rubbing against your clothed clit, blue irises flickering back up to watch your face.

“A-ah, Rafey.” You mewl softly, lifting your head to watch with half-lidded eyes.

“Shhh, be a good girl f’me, yeah? Rafey s’jus’ helpin’ ya out.”

He gently grasps your thighs and pulls them to where he’s standing next to the side of the bed, fingers hooking into the cotton material of your panties as he tugged them down your legs.

You just laid back against the shitty mattress, mind spinning. But you trusted Rafe. He is your boyfriend’s best friend, after all.

Rafe almost came in his underwear at the sight of your drenched pussy. How long have you been left aching during the party? His poor girl.

He’s had so many wet dreams and fantasies about this moment, and it takes everything in him to not pull his own pants down and fuck you senseless on Topper’s bed while there’s a party downstairs.

But, somehow, he refrains as he spreads your thighs a bit more as he leans down a bit, resting his toned chest against the edge of the mattress.

“S’pretty… such a pretty baby.”

You went to respond, brain fuzzy from alcohol. But then a warm, wet tongue met your bare clit, and the only thing that escaped you was a soft moan.

“Fuckkkkk…” Rafe grunted, already leaking precum in his boxer briefs just from his tongue flicking out to sample your hardened bud.

Just the little taste already had him even more addicted.

He couldn’t help himself, he’s been fucking his fist to this thought for months. His mouth latches onto your drenched cunt, tongue swiping through your folds and over your clit.

“R-Rafe!” You cry out, fingers digging into your boyfriend’s sheets.

“Shh, sweet girl. Shut up.”

He lifted two fingers and slid them through your parted lips, your mouth instinctively starting to suck on the long digits. His cock twitched at the sight and he let out a small moan against your pretty pussy.

He watched you suck on his fingers for a minute before he reluctantly pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting your lips from his soaked digits.

“Good girl, baby. Such a good girl f’Rafey.” He praises softly, his middle and ring finger gently sliding into your quivering hole.

“A-agh…” was all that left you, unable to form words in your drunken, pleasure-filled mind.

He swore under his breath again, watching how your greedy cunt swallowed his fingers. He looked back up at you as he began to slowly slide his fingers in and out, his tongue moving back to slide circles around your throbbing clit.

You were panting, back arching, hips bucking. All for him.

“Such a sweet cunt, babygirl. Knew I called ya sweetness f’a reason.”

He crooks his fingers against that spongy spot inside of your walls, his own stomach feeling warm when he heard you whimper out.

“Rafey…”

Rafe felt like such a fucking loser, because all it took was you moaning his name before he’s cumming in his underwear, sensitive cock completely untouched.

“Shittt, y/n. G’nna let m’eat this pussy whenever I want?” He practically whimpers.

Your tummy was feeling tight as the pleasure was getting overwhelmingly good, better than any time Topper tried to eat your cunt.

He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your eyes squeezed shut, pretty lips parted.

“Cum f’me, sweet girl. Cum all over Rafey.”

His command was enough to send you over the edge, soft mewls and noises leaving you as your body trembled for a good ten seconds.

Which sent Rafe into another orgasm, his underwear and jeans completely ruined from his sticky, leaking cock.

And Rafe has never been able to cum without getting any friction on his dick before, but here you were, making him cream himself twice back to back while he ate you out.

“S’good… S’good.” He coos softly, lapping up your release, his own legs shaking a bit.

He was feeling overwhelmed, beyond grateful his chest is leaning against his best friend’s bed.

You let out another little whimper when he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, your eyes still fluttered shut.

Rafe sucked on his own fingers, feeling his dick twitch again at your addictive taste.

And there was no way Rafe was going to be able to last much longer before he fucked your perfect cunt.

[ipushhimback]

this… is a french braid

pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader warnings: none words: 850?

summary: who could have known that a braid can cause so much drama

It was the morning of the Dutch Grand Prix. You were standing in front of your daughter’s suitcase as you showed her the outfits you packed, none of which Emily agreed to wear.

“But look, chérie, this is such a pretty dress”, you said hoping that your daughter would finally agree to wear something.

“No. It is not. I want the one Uncle Charles gave me!”, your daughter pouted.

Sadly you knew that Em was stubborn. She wouldn’t just agree to wear something she didn’t want to.

“I don’t have Charles dress here… Please. Just wear one of these dresses… Or do you want to wear a jeans? With one of the shirts Papa got for you?”, you asked again, praying Emily would agree to the tiny Red Bull shirts Max got her just a few days ago.

The five-year-old scrunched her nose as she thought about it before agreeing.

“Ok. But I want pretty hair”, she said as she looked up at you.

“A braid?”, you asked as you pulled out the little jeans and Red Bull shirt for your daughter.

Emily nodded. “The pretty braid you always do. The not-just-on-the-bottom-braid.”

“You mean a French Braid?”, you asked while helping your daughter in the shirt.

“Yes. The magic braid that doesn’t look ugly after I run very fast.”

You just nodded as you grabbed the comb from the suitcase and tried to gently detangle your daughter’s curls. Methodically, you parted her hair and placed one strand over another while you listened to Emily rambling about how Uncle Charles promised her that Alex would bring Leo with her and Uncle Arthur had promised her to bring her chocolate to the track.

“And Uncle Charlie said he will give me an own car so I can drive around alone-“

“Charles said what?”, you asked shocked. “A car?”

“Yes, a car. A red one. Like his car”, Emily said dead serious.  

You just stared at her through the mirror, deciding that you’ll have to talk to Charles about that… car for your five year old daughter.

You finished the braid by wrapping a small elastic around the hair.

“Such a pretty girl”, you said smiling which made Emily giggle.

“You are pretty, too, Maman”, Em said and you had to admit, not even a compliment of Max could compare to your daughter complimenting you.

“Thank you, chérie. Now, let’s go. Papa is probably already waiting for us.”

“YES! Can I show him my hair then?!”, Emily said excitedly.

“Of course you can. Can we leave now? Is your outfit good? Braids don’t hurt?”, you asked praying that everything would be good so they could finally leave.

Emily thought for a moment but nodded eventually, making you sigh in relief.

“Amazing. Then get your backpack, chérie.”

—-

Only half an hour later they arrived at the paddock and as soon as Em saw Max she started running towards him.

“PAPA! Look at my pretty hair. Maman did a braid! The magic braid!” The five-year-old turned her head so Max could look at her hair.

“Wow! Such a pretty braid, Em!”, Max exclaimed before he looked closer.

“Liefje, this”, he looked at you while pointing at the braid, “is a French Braid…”

You looked absolutely confused. “Yes? It is the one your daughter requested after not wanting to wear anything…? Is there a problem?”

Max now looked like he might start crying. Seriously, it was the exactly same face, as Emily’s before she throws a tantrum.

“We are at the Dutch Grand Prix! She… she cannot have a French Braid! We… we are Dutch! My baby girl is Dutch!”

You looked up in the sky, pinching the bridge of your nose, while telling yourself it wouldn’t be worth it to start yelling now. After the drama with Emily not wanting to wear anything, your nerves were already used up.

“Mon cœur. I really really love you. But a damn French Braid does not mean she isn’t Dutch anymore…”

Max pouted. “But-“

“No!”, you exclaimed before you could stop yourself. “Max. Next time I will gladly let you braid her hair but today, please just accept that she has a French Braid. Ok?”

Max still looked sad but nodded. “I guess your Maman chose France over the Netherlands”, he whispered in Emily’s ear.

“But Maman is from Monaco”, his daughter said confused.

“Close enough”, Max sighed. “Tomorrow, when it is race day, I will braid your hair, ok? And we will choose a pretty dress.”

—-

The next morning you had the time of your life. You were sitting on the balcony of your hotel room while Max was in the room, trying to get Emily to wear a dress.

“Baby girl, please! This is so pretty! I beg you! Please just wear it. I am sure Uncle Charles will love it!”

You have been hearing Max beg for around half an hour now, even considered going inside to help him. But honestly, you were enjoying the sun and your coffee way too much. Max will handle it…

a/n: this was an idea i had in the middle of the night… i hope it is good hahah

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Something More

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.

“What are you still doing here?”

Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick. 

So why were you still here?

You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you. 

“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”

Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”

You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most. 

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”

Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm. 

“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah…yeah, probably.”

Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does.”

You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again. 

“No, it-”

“It does because you never hide anything from me.”

“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you. 

“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”

It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”

He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed. 

“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.” 

Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you. 

“What are you-”

With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?” 

Bucky nodded. 

“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually…a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”

“Y/n-”

“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”

“What?”

You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table. 

You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”

You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”

“Six months?!”

“Just…sit down? Please?”

It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him. 

“How can you be okay?”

You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”

“How?”

“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”

Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.” 

Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”

You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that…it was worth its weight in gold. 

You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something…more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just…

Something More. 

Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud. 

“Want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”

But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat. 

You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one. 

“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”

Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”

You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions. 

You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound. 

You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually. 

Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.

Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party. 

You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt. 

It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months. 

“Did you buy a renovation?”

You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”

“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” 

You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you. 

“Okay.”

The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it. 

You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it – all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed. 

The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around. 

Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months. 

You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint…

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack. 

Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work. 

“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”

“Stay in your tape.”

After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones. 

“Left a bit, left a bit.”

“We need to go right.”

“No, we need to go left.”

Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”

“Two hours. I have tried.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside. 

“Right, right. Now go up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up?”

“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”

Sam just started at Bucky. 

“Oh, for the love of-”

As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge. 

Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done. 

You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats. 

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”

“Where are you getting it from?”

After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”

Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him. 

“Why?”

“Because you stink.”

You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you. 

Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo. 

And then Bucky walked up the stairs. 

As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name. 

“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”

“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”

“Really? Okay.”

Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet. 

However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky. 

Naked Bucky. 

His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him. 

But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room. 

You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant. 

The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind. 

It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-

“Hey, two pep- Matthew.” 

What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex. 

“What the fuck?”

“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Please!”

His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”

“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”

“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”

Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t. 

“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”

“Please leave.”

“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”

In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you. 

Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime. 

The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you. 

“Holy-”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”

“Oh, really?”

You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants. 

“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”

“You’re not worthy of shit.”

Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”

“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked. 

Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best. 

It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”

A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew. 

The pizza guy. 

“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”

You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone. 

“Thanks.”

“I hope you resolve…whatever this is. Bye.”

Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address. 

Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up. 

“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”

“But she still loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t.” 

That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might. 

He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided. 

“She does.”

You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”

Bucky just smirked. 

“B-but what about our life together?”

“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”

As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out. 

“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”

Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward. 

“And what if I am?”

Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed. 

“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added. 

“But-”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day. 

Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist. 

Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome. 

“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes. 

“Thanks.”

Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body. 

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away. 

“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”

“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed. 

“You can’t escape it.”

Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”

It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning. 

For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like. 

You saw the way he looked at everyone else. 

And then there was the way he looked at you. 

Something more.

You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you. 

It was his turn to step closer. 

Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes. 

And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed. 

But this. 

This he didn’t see coming. 

No matter how long he’d hoped for it. 

You kissed him. 

And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours. 

In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back. 

It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours. 

“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer. 

“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”

Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows. 

Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason. 

“You might have to give me a minute.”

It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel. 

“Thought I might get a show.”

Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”

You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again. 

“What? What is it?”

You just kept looking. 

“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like you’ve got two heads?”

You shook your head. “No. Like I’m…something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know…why do you look at me like that?”

Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”

You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years. 

Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were. 

And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice. 

“Had being the key word.” 

He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We…we both needed time.”

Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist. 

Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync. 

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”

You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”

He looked at you, again. 

“You’re more than something more to me, too.”

Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”

[rafes-slut]

Horny rafe gives you call wanting to see your pussy

Pairing: Horny!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: Smutty talk, sexting, Rafe being a typical needy menace, explicit language, a bit of possessiveness, mentions of alcohol and drug use, suggestive content.

Summary: he is out of town missing you when he gives you call begging you to flash him. And you cant help but to tease him about it

----

You were stretched out on a towel, the sun warming your skin as the waves rolled in the background. Your friends were nearby, laughing and talking, but your focus was on the phone screen as it vibrated in your hand.

Rafe.

You smirked as you answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hey—”

"Show me your pussy."

A laugh burst from your lips. No greeting, no ‘I miss you’ first—just straight to the point. That was Rafe.

Before you could even react, he groaned. "No, don’t—fuck, I’m sorry… I’m drunk. Or high."

You could tell. His voice was slower, a little slurred, but still the same deep, commanding tone that always sent a shiver down your spine.

Another pause, another contradiction. "I felt bad…" A few beats of silence. "No, I don’t. Fuck."

He was spiraling, and you were completely entertained. "Rafe," you chuckled.

"Show me," he tried again, voice rough with impatience.

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned back on your elbows. "I’m at the beach, Rafe."

"So?"

"So," you emphasized, "there are people around. And I’m not exactly gonna flash everyone just because my needy boyfriend is—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he cut in, exhaling harshly. "You got old ones. Look at those." You tell him.

The demand made him roll his eyes. "Send them to me" He said impatiant. But the idea of teasing him was far too tempting. "Hmm," you hummed playfully, pretending to consider it. "Maybe I deleted them."

"You didn’t."

You bit your lip, grinning. "What if I did?"

A scoff. "Then I’d fly home right now just to take new ones."

Your stomach did a little flip. It was one thing when Rafe was just horny and demanding, but when he said things like that—things that told you just how much he actually wanted to be here, with you—it made you miss him even more.

"How much longer are you gone?" you asked, softening.

He sighed, and you heard the rustle of fabric like he was shifting on a bed or couch. "Day after tomorrow," he muttered. "Too fucking long."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he grumbled. "Miss you."

You smiled. "Miss you too."

"Not just your pussy," he added after a beat. "Like… you."

It was rare for Rafe to get all sentimental, but when he did, it always made your heart clench. He wasn’t good at saying it outright, but this was his way of telling you he loved you.

"Well, I’ll be here when you get back," you assured him.

He huffed. "Not soon enough."

You could hear how tired he was, the way his words dragged slightly now—not just from the alcohol or whatever he’d taken, but exhaustion.

"You should sleep," you murmured.

"Mm. You should send me something to dream about."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Goodnight, Rafe."

A groan. "Ugh. Fine. But I’m calling you first thing when I wake up."

"Wouldn’t expect anything else."

You heard him mumble something else, then the line went quiet. Shaking your head with a smirk, you put your phone down.

[enigmeyyy-writes]

I definitely think a lot of this is really interesting now that I'm rewatching the show again to write my fanfictions...

Katara definitely had her faults (and it was kinda wrong of her to tell her older brother that he didn't love their mother as much, especially because he most likely had more memories of her alive in comparison), but she was still a 14-year-old girl thrust into adult responsibility in the middle of a war. She is misunderstood a lot of the time from a fan's perspective because (in all honesty) a lot of us watched the show as kids and either thought she was super cool or super annoying. I even only started to find Katara annoying after I was older--and that was mainly because in times when she did attempt to "solve" things or "fix" something she wasn't mature enough yet to understand how to handle it responsibly. Sokka was a lot like this too, and we see him getting blamed a lot less. Both of them were standing in as leaders in their tribe during the war, and both of them left. Sure, the Avatar showed up, but even Aang was running away from responsibility until he realized he had to face the consequences of his actions!

Past this point is a lot of me talking about how I'm addressing a lot of this in my fan works, so check it out if you're interested!

I think a lot of my thoughts on this topic stem from the fact that I want to explore the emotional and responsibility commitments the characters of ATLA have weighing on them. In the AU I'm writing, for example, the characters (set in canon) are aged up and a lot of them have more people they are attached to. Since this was a Katara-centric post, I'll also include what I have in mind for my Katara fic.

Growing Pains centers around the letters Katara sends home to her and Sokka's childhood friend, Mali. He was the oldest of the boys left behind by the tribe because he just didn't quite make the age cut, and now serves as a hunter and protector for the tribe. He was definitely upset when his friends left him, but he knew that if they were to travel with the Avatar he had to stay and protect their tribe. Katara sends her letters detailing the stories of her adventures to Mali but soon realizes that she left a lot behind at home for what was turning out to be a perilous and risk-filled adventure.

And on the Aang side of things (because let's face it, a twelve-year-old boy having childish immaturity and the weight of the world on their shoulders is NOT the best combination), I wanted to explore more of his energy and experience of learning maturity after hardship in a Book 3 and post-war fic titled Spitfire.

Spitfire centers around one of Zuko's childhood friends (an OC because I think he deserved friends he could actually trust prior to joining the Gaang) named Soru coming to terms with the fact that he never truly was against the Avatar even though he's from the Fire Nation. Escapism at its finest--truly. As Aang has to come to terms with the new reality the world is entering after the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai, he has to learn how to deal with the weight of the political aspect of society the rest of his friends (and former enemies for that matter) were already wrapped up in.

All in all, I really think exploring aspects of the characters of such a beloved show that aren't really addressed is such an interesting thing to do. I applaud all other ATLA writers on the platform (and any platform) for either just sticking to canon or coming to terms with the flaws that are either over-exaggerated or under-represented in fanfiction, but I am not one of you! I want to explore the inklings of depth we get from this fun show, especially since I'm approaching this from a perspective in which the characters are older and arguably have more responsibility on their shoulders.

I'd really appreciate it if anyone would check out my stories (will be posted on here and ao3) or at least show interest in them! I've worked really hard to put all the details together behind the scenes, so any support or showing you enjoy my works/ideas is greatly appreciated!

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[sheepispink]

THE TRUTH. (super soldier au part 2)

cw: mentions of telling someone to commit suicide, threats, bullying

guys idk how i feel about this one but here u go 🙏

PART ONE

———-

Happy Birthday

freak.

A present stopped you from walking out at your usual time. It was a week until your birthday, and usually no one remembered other than those who had your file. Although that mostly consisted of blacked out paragraphs now.

It’s wrapped a little messily, not the worst, and you slowly pick it up, noticing a weight inside. You had never got a present before, much less more than a small timeframe to have some sort of celebration— not that you ever took that opportunity anyway. Most years you were too busy hung up with wires and drowning in your mind from drugs. Your thumb brushes over the paper curiously, looking for a name tag but finding nothing to mark the sender. Neatly, you rip a line through the paper which reveals a cardboard box. It’s blank, no branding or anything to attach itself to. When you open it though, you’re quickly greeted by a strange sight; a gun.

A handgun to be more specific, a Browning L941 if you wanted details. It sits neatly in the box, looking clean but you can tell by the small nicks in metal it’s not new. There’s a note beside it, typed— never handwritten.

“If your aim is as good as they say, surely you can prove it by putting it to your head.”

You’re not too surprised, at least more than the initial eye widening. After all, you did deal with the piece of paper on your designated breakfast table every morning. Your eyes flicker down, to the sentence beneath.

“If you’re too scared, we’ll just have to deliver the gift in person.”

That makes you blink, the implications of the clear threat not lost on you. It wasn't the first time you’ve heard them; enemies swore that they’d tear you apart limb by limb, Ghost promised he’d douse you in cold water the next time you caused a bloodbath and even the scientists taunted you with those syringes. The difference was, those were.. well threats you couldn't exactly avoid. Ghost would always get mad at you for making a mess, and you used to be far more rebellious against the scientists— or was that fear? Enemies threatening you was just a farce anyway, you’d have their bodies by your feet soon enough that it wasn't even worth thinking over twice. But this? Comrades, or well they’re supposed to be, who want to kill you? Teammates who would live happier knowing they put you to the grave. It’s no longer the opposing team, no longer the one Ghost points his finger at, no longer the ones that destroy humanity.

No, they only want to destroy you.

For the first few days, you tried to shake it, but you were feeling the weight of the words even more than usual. The stab of pain in your back when they threw the bread roll at you; that could be a bullet next time. Your shoes in the toilet could be your body next time. The fox who whines and whimpers would be you when you were deemed useless.

The truth was, you didnt care about the damn movie, or the cake you were promised, nor even the words “happy birthday” being said to you. It was an excuse, a white lie even, to get the Captain, or Ghost, hoping one of them would actually come into your room. Never have they stepped foot in since your first arrival, never feeling the need to either. The Captain only had time to care when you emailed him, but even that seemed too risky, what if he laughed it off and the surrounding soldiers heard? Ghost barely ever gave you time to talk anyway, and when you did get a moment, there were too many around.

So you invited them over, tried your best act as if you really wanted a birthday to celebrate with them. They’d come, you’d show them the note, the gun. If they laughed, it’d be fine, hidden in your room— you could find a solution before they told the others and it spread around the base. If they didn't laugh, you’d be safe, guaranteed that no one would really try what would happen on that piece of paper.

But you hadn't anticipated that neither of them would come at all. Your eyes brim with tears, unsure how that is even possible as you step into your room, a tenseness sinking into your bones and spreading across your body. With them completely out of the picture, you’re left by yourself until your end surely comes. Maybe you should’ve known, especially when you remember what soldiers call you— a monster.

But it wasn’t in your coding, in your genes or even near your thought process to harm those that threaten you— at least not first anyways, and especially when they’re not explicitly enemies. This was a moral dilemma your tampered mind wasn't capable of handling. Despite the sick growing in your stomach, you had a plan. There were outdoor training rooms, more specifically small cabins that were sometimes used to punish soldiers if they acted up too much.

The gift remains untouched on the dresser, a silent promise watching you at all times. It’s almost four o clock now, and the day isn't getting any brighter in the middle of winter. Opening your closet, your hands pass over the many uniforms there. That’s all they give you, uniforms, it’s why yours are always clean— your only purpose is to fight. So you grab the jacket in the furthest corner, the one usually saved for extreme weather conditions and slip that on. It disguises your figure enough and the hiking boots are exactly what you need to be a new person.

Your hand grazes the knives in your old belt, and you take a few, sliding them into the new holster behind the jacket. Just in case. There’s nothing else to take now, apart from your small radio that you sometimes keep on your person— you dont really use a phone either since it was seen to be a distraction. You’ll likely have to starve for the rest of the day, though with your knowledge you could probably find some sort of food out there. Just in case, you grab an MRE, a spare that stays around in the off chance you get dizzy from eating nothing all day.

Slowly you step out in the hallway, looking around for anyone before closing your door shut again. You didnt dare make it suspicious with a backpack, so your bottle is stuffed into your jacket pocket instead. Same for the untampered gift on the table, they’d assume you’d be back later to open it.

This was your best bet.

You head down the corridors, keeping a confident pace so people wouldn’t even try suspect you— that’s the key to everything, after all. Ironically, that wasn’t the situation at all, in fact they were.. friendly? A few soldiers gave you a nod as you walked past, which wasn’t the craziest thing but, considering no one’s ever done that before, it was exhilarating. You nod in turn, a mask hiked up to your nose but it just looks like you’re keeping your face warm for when you go outside— not that anyone here is phased by a mere mask anyway. Infact, a few soldiers who look particularly boisterous even go as far to fist bump you, likely thinking you’re someone they know. You don't care in the slightest; you’re just happy that for once you get to experience what your life should’ve been like.

The giddiness is temporary though, as you turn the corner to see Ghost stepping out of a room with two crates of drinks in his hands. You falter, stopping in your tracks as he closes the door behind him.

Is this really the right idea? Running away like this?

It’s only for the day, at least that was the idea, but what after that? What if they didn't stop at your birthday— what if it continued? You could tell him right now, pull the mask down that covers your face and confess every little detail running through your head. What would you do if he got in trouble for your foolish decisions? He had shown his stance when he chose not to show up at your birthday party; he clearly didn't care at all.. right?

“Do you need something?” He says lowly, clearly having realised that you’ve frozen in your tracks before him, and giving you a narrowed stare for that reason. Surprisingly, it’s less demeaning and more questioning, considering how harsh his eyes usually go when looking at you. It gives you a bit of hope.

”D-do you need any help with that, sir?” You’re not sure why your voice stuttered, not particularly wanting to think much about the matter either. Instead, you stare right back at him, your eyes widened as you stare in his pupils moving around like it’s searching you.

Did he recognise you?

“No, that’s alright.” It’s gruff, and harsh and yet far more nicer than he’s ever spoken to you before. You manage to force yourself to nod in response, giving a small salute before hurrying off down the corridor.

Trekking through the forest is a little bit of an effort but you eventually meet the small cabin that’s there. It’s almost never used in winter, but in the summer they might do their training in these areas and keep the lunch here. Slowly you step inside, recognising from the get go that there’s not particularly much. There’s a few bedrolls for wilderness training, albeit a bit torn and some dry firewood left discarded on the little fireplace. That’s good, at least you won't freeze anymore than you already have. It’s not like you can use it though— it’s too risky. If anyone sees smoke out here you’re bound to get caught in seconds, and possibly even by your predators.

You lock the cabin door, placing a chair beneath the handle as you let out a sigh and slump against the wall. This would be a long, painstaking night and you cant help but wonder if it’d been better to just defend yourself when they came. But what if you lost control? What if you seriously hurt someone? Even if they were trying to harm you?

The thought makes you shudder, even more than the thoughts you’ve been desperately pushing back. But when there is nothing else to do in this cold place, it’s hard to keep your mind focused. The only way you survived these past three months with Ghost is by not thinking about your situation— at all. It’s probably why he hates you. From how he reacts anyway, you’re more like a robot than you’ve ever been a human. You’ve been monitored all your life, since before you were born you were made for the cause. No clue of who your mother was, you were genetically modified as an embryo for all the traits they wished for you to have. Other children in the program had the same, of course, and for the first years of your life you were blissfully unaware. You didn’t understand that the kids you ran around and giggled with would end up being your own enemies, despising that you turned out to be the successful experiment and not them. It wasn't as glamorous as it sounded, but they complained, saying you didnt have to be sent away like they did, to be fostered and deal with the pain of the experiments for the rest of their lives.

That’s exactly what you had though. You were split from them altogether, coddled by scientists and doctors, personal trainers who felt more like drill sergeants than anyone that wanted to help you. Of course, you were tampered with too, drugged up on strange substances as they tampered with your nerves, always changing you to be better because you were never enough for them. They were supposed to enforce rationality within you by erasing anything that could get you worked up, and so your emotions became suppressed, pushed down and piled with the weight of responsibilities to keep them down. But it clearly wasn't successful, at least when you’re not on the battlefield. When you entered that place, it was like a switch had turned on in your brain, all morality slipping out as you only followed the orders of whoever the handler was. Your mind always enters a haze after you snap out of it and come back from hours of combat, leaving you feeling sick to the core.

But now, things are changing— too fast. You had cried, because they didn't come to your birthday party. For once, your stomach felt sickly with misery and your breath had caught in your throat when you’ve never stopped breathing before, ever. Your hand reaches into your pocket, pulling out a small fox toy. It was a gift from a younger scientist who had just been a mere intern. He had been put forward for the menial task of looking after your post-experimentation state, making sure your vitals were fine. You didnt get to talk to him that much, considering you mostly were deep in sleep, recovering from the new strain on your body. But he stayed beside you, making sure you were okay. When you left to get tested on the field with Ghost, he gave you a small plush, just the size of your hand.

“A little gift.” He chuckled, smiling gently as he rubbed your bandaged arm. “Don't give me that look. I know you’re not actually that unbothered, they just made you that way. You can say you like it, you know, that it makes you happy.”

You could only nod in return, it was the truth, you were very happy.

The sky was already growing dark and without the determination that kept your body distracted from your needs, you were actually feeling your hunger full force for once. The little fox is clenched deep in your hands, a natural predator and yet it’s more common to see them die out in the wild than thriving. Just like you. Your stomach growls, and so you reach for your MRE, eyeing the food within. You were probably supposed to warm it up first, but you’d just have to eat it like this for now. You rip the first packet open, and just try to scarf it down without thinking about the taste too much. It wasn’t the best to say the least. But you’re used to it now; you barely got proper meals apart from missions, and often had to eat one of these after an unsuccessful trip to the mess hall.

You’re about to inspect the other packet when a low scratching noise is heard against the door. Instantly, you pause, mind shifting into something akin to a battle mode already. Slowly, you approach the door, pressing your ear as your hand reaches in your belt for the knife. The windows were frosted up, so it’s unlikely they could see in when it was already pretty dark in here. A low whine echoes out and you realise who's actually stalking you, quickly removing the chair and opening the door. The little fox stands there, looking up at you as it slowly steps inside the cabin.

For once, you let your guard down and just sigh, closing the door and securing it again. “C’mere.” You rarely fear anything, and so you scoop the little fox up without a second thought, even as it squirms initially and its claws are sharp on you. You settle in the warmest area of the room again, next to your mre pack and grab the fork, scooping out some of the food. You didn't need the rest, but he could use it. The fox reluctantly eats the food, and you giggle when you realise it probably doesn't taste much better to him either despite being starving. You took it off by letting him drink half the bottle of your water, which he greedily takes along with a few fruits you packed.

“Your fur is matted, and you’re all banged up but you’re still adorable.” The thought makes you sniffle, a bittersweet smile rising on your lips. The fox rests its head on your lap as you run your hand over its fur, gently scratching every now and then. Why couldn’t people see the truth in you as you did right now? You’ve trained for so long, fought to keep all of them safe on their missions and all you got in return was a scared look, disgust and sometimes even anger. It hurt, more than you allowed yourself to feel.

But this is the first time you’ve been alone without the battlefield before you, or a supervisor staring you down. You could have a gun to your head tonight, and no one will find out until the morning, so for now you just begged that the soldiers were joking, for the sake of everyone involved.

You just wish Ghost and Price would’ve listened, so you could be safe and warm back there, at least getting an early sleep on your birthday. The scientist promised, he said it’d get better, he said there would be others who would care like he did. He said only the higherups were this bad; he lied to you. The tears drip again, unable to stop this time and you bury your face in your hands, mourning everything you’ve lost, and everything you’ve yet to lose. Dead or alive, you may lose it all.

————————-

Taglist:

@mellohimmku94 @rafaelacallinybbay

[ijenoyou]

Ojos lindos.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

WARNINGS: none rlly i think it’s just some nice fluff strangers to friends :3

note: helllowwwww it’s been a while since i’ve written sum for marvel lol anywayssss i rlly enjoyed the new cap movie!! and def did enjoy danny ramirez as the new falcon :3 so yeah i hope yall like this ohhh and if i like this storyline enough i’ll probably make it into a series ;) OH also the reader is supposed to be iron heart !!

Since Sam needed a new team for the Avengers the very first person that came to his mind, aside from Joaquín, was you. You definitely had Tony Stark’s brilliant mind and that helped you build your own suit not wanting to use the one your father made you while you were stuck in the Blip.

And Sam needs someone like that, smart, strong and brave. So when you offered to help him rebuild the team he was more than happy that you did. And he even was more happier to the fact that he got to see you. Since the passing of Tony Stark you disappeared leaving him with the wonder of where you went.

But you had to. Thanos had blasted you with the power of all the stones the moment he saw you get ahold of the gauntlet not knowing that the mixture of the power would cause your body to absorbe it.

So you had new powers, one’s that are quite hard to control, so you did what was safe to the people you care for which was disappear.

But now all was good, your powers are more than safe to use now that you know your way around them. And when Sam found out about the things you could do he knew in his heart he should take you under his wing just like he did with Joaquín Torres.

“She told we could have any room we want.” Sam told Joaquín when they arrived to the old Avengers base.

The both of them grabbed their own baggage and began walking inside the building.

Joaquín’s eyes were shining like crazy. He always thought being an Avenger wasn’t something in his path.

“Uncle Sam!” You said as soon as you saw them walking to the area that had all the old rooms the old team used. You arrived earlier since you wanted to clean up the area for the new arrivals.

Sam smiled and left his things on the floor, he then extended his arms signaling for you to hug him. Since you were quite far holding a broom you decided to teleport.

Joaquín hadn’t seen something like that. The pink glow that appeared in front of him when you appeared of the blue was something that surprised him and it made him lift the right corner of his lip, amused to the fact you were clearly too lazy to walk a few steps to greet Sam.

“So, this is my new child, also known as the new Falcon, Joaquín Torres.” Sam said while grabbing Joaquín’s shoulder.

Your eyes traveled towards him and smiled. You looked different from what he was used to. One of your eyes had a pink glow and the other didn’t, he tried not to let his thoughts show on his face after seeing your new appearance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sam’s been talking a lot about you since we were on our way.” Joaquín said while reaching his hand out for you to shake. “I’m a big fan of your work, I was a volunteer on the charity you created a few months ago.”

Your smile became even bigger at the mention of the charity you created in honor of the fallen Avengers.

“Really? Thank you so much! I thought I recognized your face from somewhere else.” You said with a sweet tone. “People usually tell me about my father’s work and not mine so thank you, really.” You shook his hand.

Warm.

That’s what he felt inside him when he touched you. He noticed how small your hand was compared to his and how soft your skin felt against his calloused palm.

The both of you didn’t notice how Sam walked out the scene and began searching for a specific room. He wanted the one Steve used since he heard amazing stories about the incredible shower head pressure.

“Want help finding a room?” You said while taking one of this bags from the floor.

“Oh don’t worry I’ll take it!” He tried to take the bag from you.

Too late. You had already teleported a few feet away from him with a playful smile.

“Come! I think you might like this room.”

He smiled and nodded.

He walked behind you for a few moments when you stopped in front of a door that had the number 10 on it. You pushed a few numbers on the pad that was next to the door and the door opened by sliding.

“This one used to be one of my favorite rooms. “ You said with a soft tone.

You left Joaquín’s bag on an old chair and turned to him with your hand on your hips.

“You like it? The view here is amazing, my favorite out of all the rooms.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. This room had a perfect view to the forest that connected to the base, he couldn’t help but notice how big the room is. Way bigger than he ever imagined with huge windows and a balcony that already had some furniture on it.

“I really do.” He left his things on the floor next to the old chair and walked to stand next to you. Admiring the view.

“My father built quite a lot of rooms for everyone.” You said. “He wanted everyone living under the same roof.” You smiled at the memory of the old team fighting to get the nicest rooms over the base.

Joaquín turned to see you.

You not noticing that he much preferred to have you as the increíble view you mentioned instead of the forest.

“Que ojos tan lindos.” He didn’t realized what he said until you turned towards him with a lifted eyebrow and small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You think? I’m still getting used to the new color but it’s quite cool.” He didn’t know you understood spanish. A blush began spreading to his face and his right hand scratched the back of his neck with a bashful smile.

“Sorry I just..” He tried to speak but being caught red handed specially by you made him lose control of his words.

“It’s fine!” Your shoulder pushed his. “I don’t mind people looking at my eye, I mean, the staring was bound to happen.” You explained and began walking away from him. “I’ll let you get settled okay? Dinner’s at 8! I’m cooking enchiladas, hope that’s okay.”

Joaquín nodded. “I love enchiladas.” You gave him a thumbs up and walked out the room.

He turned again and stared at the windows for a few seconds until he registered what you said about the staring. He quickly turned on his heel and sprinted to the hall. “For the record I wasn’t staring at your eye! I was just admiring them!” He shouted for you to hear.

A big laugh was all he hear from down the hall. He smiled and turned which caused him to have a mini heart attack at the sight of Sam behind him.

“Dude! Make some noise the next time you stand behind me.” Joaquín said while putting a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat at a fast pace.

Sam made a face at him. That damn look Sam had almost all of the time when he found something cheeky. Like he knew a secret about you.

“You and little Stark became friends really fast uh?” Was all he said while crossing his arms over his chest.

[ ]

A plate of enchiladas appeared in front of Joaquín and Sam’s eyes.

“Here you go!” You said while sitting in front of them at the aisle of the kitchen instead of the big dinning room. You had said it felt way bigger with just the three of you, but Sam reassured you that with time and effort that would soon change.

“So, do you know when Bucky’s coming?” Sam asked while cutting his enchiladas.

You nodded, your hand reaching for a napkin. “Yes! He told me he’s coming next week after he visits the wakandians for a new update on his arm.” You explained after taking a big gulp of your iced coca cola. “He’s been staying up here with me for a while so his room is already set up.”

That caught Joaquín’s full attention and Sam noticed. Sam decided to play a little game with the knowledge he now has. His new child had a crush on little Stark. Oh my, how small the world is.

“Really? And what do you guys do? I’m assuming is just the two of you.” Sam told you with a cheeky sneer.

Your cheeks became flushed and that made Joaquín furrow his eyebrows, just a little.

“Well we just spend time next to one another you know? Sometimes I’ll be reading and he would be sitting next to me while he learns how to share a TikTok.” You explained with your eyes locked on your food.

Sam lifted an eyebrows and began asking more things to get a rise out of Joaquín. “How nice of him, right Joaquín?” Sam elbowed him causing him to cough.

“Oh? Yeah…”

“He doesn’t stay a lot.” You explained sensing the weird tension in the air. “He sometimes comes when I tell him I miss my father.”

The strings of Joaquín’s heart were pulled. He couldn’t imagine what you felt. From what Sam told him, it was just you and Tony Stark. He then met Pepper and became partners but for a while it was just the two of you, against everything.

He knew your father was your rock, he was all you had since your mother died while giving birth, the doctors not noticing she was having an internal bleeding causing her to slip away without too much fuss. The info being shared by Sam.

“But now, you two are here so I won’t be feeling as lonely as before.” Sam nodded as the same time Joaquín did.

After dinner Sam had to take a call from the White House, leaving you with Joaquín to wash all of the dirty dishes you used.

It was nice. Joaquín felt a cozy vibe coming from the moment, soft jazz music playing on the background, you next to him drying the plates with a cloth he would give you after he scrubbed them.

“I totally think he faked that call because he didn’t want to help wash the dishes.” You said playfully.

A laughed erupted from Joaquín’s chest and nodded. “For sure! I mean did you see the look he gave us when he stood up?”

Now it was your time to laugh. “That damn look he has! It’s like he knows something about you, isn’t it?” The both of you exploded of laughter. Making fun of Sam was one of your favorite hobbies now that he was more present in your life.

“Thank you for the compliment by the way.” He heard you say while putting the last plate on its designated place. “Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos.”

He almost choked when he heard those words coming past your lips.

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish.” He explained bashful.

“Tony made me learn quite a handful of languages when I was a kid.” You told him. “Spanish was my favorite by far, I think it’s a very romantic language, don’t you think?”

“It sure is.” Was all he said while turning his body to you.

The both of you didn’t notice how close your bodies were. He could feel the warmth coming from your body, that’s how close he was to you. He could see with clear perfection every lash and every beauty mark on your face. His eyes stopping their path on yours. Joaquín could see the pink glow with perfection and it felt like time stopped.

He wasn’t attracted to your eyes just because of the pink color but because he felt really seen under your gaze. It felt like you were going under every inch and corner of his mind, leaving your mark in it.

And you felt the same thing.

“I-I think it’s quite late, isn’t it?” Your voice brought him back to reality.

He stepped back, instantly missing the warmth of your body. He cleared his throat and sighed.

“Oh right.” He spoke. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Your lips curled and nodded. “Of course.” Your voice came out almost as a whisper. “I’m off to sleep, if you need anything my room is next to yours actually.”

He bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Okay then, sleep well mini Stark.” That damned nickname Thor gave you years ago made your skin tickle. A funny feeling forming inside your chest.

**

Que ojos tan lindos - what beautiful eyes

Yo también pienso que tienes unos ojos muy lindos - I also think you have beautiful eyes

[daddydixonscrossbow]

You step towards Daryl, “Daryl.”

He gives you a funny look, like why are you my space, kinda look. You ignore it, “I don’t think we should be here.” He looks at you more, “What do y’mean?”

You shrug, “I don’t- this place doesn’t feel safe. There’s something off about that Dr. Jenner dude.”

“Wait n’see what Rick says.” He mumbles, looking back towards Rick, “M’sure he’ll be a’right.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, the eerie feeling growing harder to get rid of.

Your eyes focus on the screen, watching the lights flicker within the brain of the scan. You feel like you could puke. After a little bit, a loud alarm starts buzzing.

Everyone starts questioning what it is.

You look at Daryl and he tilts his head, “Maybe y’were right.” He reaches out, pulling you to him. The screen lights up with a red box and numbers, a voice counting down booms through the room, “thirty minutes ‘til decontamination.”

Everyone starts panicking. You hold onto Daryl’s arm and he looks at the doctor.

“What’s going on here doc?”

“Yall heard Rick, get yer’stuff and let’s go. Go now!” Shane yells. Daryl pulls you with him towards the exit, his hand tightening on yours. The door closes and you stop, spinning around to look for another way out.

“Did you just lock us in?” Glenn asks scared.

You start to breathe faster, but Daryl shakes his head, “Don’do that, calm down. We’ll get outta here, just- hold on.”

He gets more agitated, letting you go to go after the doctor, “You son of a bitch. You locked us in here!”

You and Shane go after Daryl, keeping him away from the doctor. You grab his arm, “No, no, no.” Shane pulls him back, and you step in front of him, “Stop, stop. That’s not gonna help.”

He looks down at you, huffing as he glances up at the doctor.

After a little bit of freaking out and the doctor losing his shit, Shane cocks a gun, aiming it at Jenner. You stand closer to Daryl and he wraps his arm around you.

Shane fires the gun repeatedly and you grip onto Daryl’s shirt, “Oh my god, I want out.”

He nods, “I know, we all do. Jus’relax, okay.”

Jenner moves to a key pad, and as soon as the door is open, Daryl pulls you to where the weapons are, and you book it with him.

He glances back every so often to make sure you’re still with him, “C’mon, girl. We gotta go.” You huff, following him ho the steps, “I’m goin’ as fast as I can, Daryl.”

You make your way to the doors, and nothing is working. He runs over, hacking at the windows with Rick. Nothing works until Carol pulls out a grenade.

Daryl grabs you, pulling you with him. He gets you down onto the floor, his arm around you as you use your hands to cover your ear, “Fuck, fuck.”

As it goes off, he holds you tighter, looking up as the glass shatters and he nudges you, “C’mon. C’mon.” You stand up, running out of the now broken window. Your heart was racing, you’ve never been this scared before. Even though Daryl wasn’t really a comfort kind of person, you somehow managed to feel safer with him by your side, at least.. a little bit.

You run out over the yard towards the vehicles. Shane, Rick, and, Daryl taking out walkers as you all hustle.

He reaches back for your hand, pulling you up to him, “c’mon.” He opens the truck door, pushing you in, “In, in, in.” You climb in, Daryl following you in and he lays his body on yours, “Stay down.”

You listen to the explosion of the building, closing your eyes as you try to control your breathing.

He sits up slowly, eyes on the building, “Y’okay?”

You nod, sitting up, “Mhm.” You mumble, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He clears his throat, “Don’t expect it again.” You roll your eyes, “Asshole.” You look over at him and he gives you a slight smirk, shaking his head as he looks back at the burning building, “Fuck.”

You move away from him as he starts to drive, following the other vehicles. After a while, you come to a stop. Daryl ditches his truck and gets his bike from the back, “Get on and hang on.”

You swing your leg over the bike, adjusting your sitting position. You slide your arms around his torso and rest your chin on his shoulder, and that was a very scary, yet beautiful start to yours and Daryl’s relationship.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 ! 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃 (??)

❝ DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! ♡ This is yandere content, suggestive content ahead, you have been warned ! ♡ ❞

࣪ ִֶָ☾. What to do? You had to go back to schooling, even as much as you hated it.. You needed that god for saken diploma.

ִֶָ☾. This is how you ended up alone on your first day, you had hoped that a brave soul at campus would approach you. Like one of those super popular nice people approaching you and then boom! You became the next sensation at your college!

ִֶָ☾. You would be delusional if you thought a silly thing like that would happen.

ִֶָ☾. You wandered around campus aimlessly, in look for a new friend. You searched the crowd, looking for anyone as lonely as you were.

ִֶָ☾. Your eyes met a males' own sparkling indigo hues. Bingo.

ִֶָ☾. He returned your stare, his ears and face glowing in a subtle tone of red. You reminded yourself: Some people get nervous about eye contact! Yeah.. haha.. Totally!

ִֶָ☾. You smiled at him, asking nicely if you could have a seat at the table where he was, to which he eagerly nodded, scooting away the stacks and stacks of books he had.

ִֶָ☾. Math? Dude, really? So he's a mathematics major..? He chuckled nervously as he adjusted his thick rimmed glasses, noticing your eyes on the number filled textbooks.

"I'm Elio.. Is it your first day here?" The soft sound of his voice snapped you out of trying to decipher whatever hieroglyphics were printed on the paper.

ִֶָ☾. He lit up in happiness when you spoke your name. Okay.. Unique reaction to a normal piece of information.

ִֶָ☾. You took a closer look at his face, it seemed refined, like a dude who hit the books for fun. But you couldn't help but let your gaze drift to the piercing holes in his ears, no jewelry present but so so many piercings..

ִֶָ☾. His almost black hair gleamed in the light, an unmistakable dark blue undertone present in the silky strands. The bottom portion of his hair around his neck dyed a very light sky blue.

ִֶָ☾. These were small, extremely minimal details you wouldn't have picked up if it wasn't for your super duper brave choice of coming up to him and sitting down with him.

”Who is that talking to that prick over there..? By now he would have dumped soup on anyone..”

“I know, always so hostile for no reason! I wonder who pissed in his coffee..”

ִֶָ☾. Your ears pricked at the comments from the other table not too far away from you, Elio seemed nice though..? He didn’t toss food on you or even seem annoyed.

ִֶָ☾. He had noticed too, glaring out of the corner of his eyes, pitch black eyes narrowing in a malicious stare.

ִֶָ☾. These nobodies were soiling his chances with you already.. Not even an hour in and they were already gossiping and honking like a gaggle of geese.

ִֶָ☾. You cast your attention upon him again, taken aback by the soulless stare he directed at the small group of people next to you.

ִֶָ☾. Whoops. He hoped you didn’t see him like that for too long. He smiled nervously, his more timid persona coming back just like before.

“Your lesson is starting soon, I have a free period! I’ll go with you!” He sprung up from his seat, wrapping his arm around your own.

ִֶָ☾. You had so many questions. 

ִֶָ☾. How did he know that? And why was he getting so touchy already? You had barely been with him for an hour, yet he acted like he knew you since childhood..

ִֶָ☾. As the both of you passed by the shit-talking table, Elio ever so slightly turned his head, his arms hugging your bicep closer to his chest as he shot them the dirtiest look he could muster.

“Cmon, silly. We don’t want to be late.” Elio giggled as he dragged you away.

ִֶָ☾. Elio wasn’t normal, you had noticed. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just was quite… unique in his mannerisms. Quite the specimen!

Okay he is nerdy.. but why he kinda..

ִֶָ☾. Your suspicion of him not being what he appeared as at first was correct however. He really had more than what met the eye, you would have been a fool if you only thought that the ugly red and black flannel shirt he wore was all there was to him.

ִֶָ☾. You had stumbled upon him one day, lukewarm coffee in hand, some rushing scholar ran past you, like a cartoon character leaving fire tracks while speeding. They bumped harshly into your shoulder, knocking off your balance and uncapping your coffee, spilling all over your friend..

ִֶָ☾. You panicked, grabbing tissues in your hand and helping in patting down the ugly flannel in hopes of soaking up the drying coffee, you missed the way he gasped softly in surprise and a little of excitement. If you could touch him like that again he would’ve let himself get soaked time and time again.

ִֶָ☾. He flushed at the nimbe touch of your hand on his body, you mistook the embarrassment on his face for irritation and shrunk back in fear of the so called “mean” attitude many students muttered about.

ִֶָ☾. You had witnessed it, once you were running late and noticed a girl walking towards him, shifting her weight from one foot to another as she opened her mouth to talk.

ִֶָ☾. “ Don’t you understand? I don’t fucking care, I already have a lover. Stop looking at me like a kicked puppy, or are you deaf too? Well? Scram.” He rudely interrupted her speech, irritation radiating from him. And jeez. Was he scary, a dark shadow cast over his face, giving him even more of a menacing look. This was him? Was he really like this when you weren’t around? 

ִֶָ☾. The girl gasped, shoulders tensing as she began to cry while running away, head buried between hands. You stared at her as she dashed past you, mascara dripping down her blushed cheeks. Elio waved at you, as if nothing had happened.

ִֶָ☾. You grimaced at the memory and how horrible it would feel if you were in that girls’ shoes. Being publicly humiliated is one of the worst kinds of humiliation.

ִֶָ☾. You apologized a million times, he shook his head, offering a pretty smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Was he laughing at you..? He let out a little happy sigh, peeling the coffee drenched shirt from his torso.

ִֶָ☾. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. I have an extra shirt in my bag just in case.” He waved his hand dismissively, it’s no biggie for him. He almost thanked you for touching him, he might have gotten a nosebleed but by some unknown miracle he didn’t start bleeding on you.

ִֶָ☾. He dragged you into a classroom, unbuttoning his long sleeve and slowly slipping it off his shoulders. You were trying to NOT look but gods. Lord. Was it hard.

ִֶָ☾. It was like he was teasing you, wanting you to look and give into your perverted ways.

ִֶָ☾. You couldn’t stop yourself as you peeked at him, his back wasn’t turned as he focused on folding the dirtied shirt, but that didn’t stop you from looking.

ִֶָ☾. He had so many piercings. How? How would anyone guess he was so.. yum.

ִֶָ☾. His body was a perfect mix of slim and just the slightest bit of muscle, the dark metal balls surfacing from his skin and gleaming in the dim lighting.

ִֶָ☾. His soft chest rose and fell gently, his nipples decorated by dangling circular metal jewelry. His smooth navel adorned with another piece of black metal. the taut skin of his hips pierced with three little beads on each hip.

ִֶָ☾. Okay! Enough staring. Don’t look, don’t look, don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook!

ִֶָ☾. “(Y/N)? Can you pass me the shirt?” Right. Right! The black band t-shirt in your hands, you nodded wordlessly, fumbling with the fabric and gently passing it to him.

ִֶָ☾. “What’s wrong? You aren’t looking me in the eye.” He asked you, his voice holding an edge of teasing. You could hear the smile in his voice.

ִֶָ☾. He knew why.

“We..Well, I didn’t know you were the type of guy to have so many piercings..” you answered only one of his questions, you couldn’t let him know that now you perhaps had a puppy crush on him.

“Awh.. You’re so cute.. Never did I think I would be able to fluster you in such a way..” he cooed out of nowhere, moving to get closer to you.

“You can touch too you know..” Elio shyly added, grabbing you by the wrists and gently placing them over his waist.

“If it’s you, then I don’t mind at all. ♡”

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | fourteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, mostly focused on namjoon again in his stressed with no rest era, oc tells her friends about everything, jiung x oc fighting, crying :(, oc has a pretty good talk with namjoon, things are just shifting/changing

—a/n: the next fic coming up after wildfire has been posted here! also if you haven't taken my poll, pls do so! hehe <33 i appreciate u

You lay back against the arm of the couch with your blanket sprawled on top, typing away the last bits of info into your presentation. You're a slide away from creating your acknowledgements slide and wrapping up the entire rotation update. You had gotten an email from both San and Namjoon stating that your rotation in San's lab was ending due to a change in your timeline and that you needed to present your rotation update to the both of them, along with the dean, in the following week. It scared you at first— and it still does now— but it's starting to make more sense as to why San did what he did. Namjoon sent you a side email asking if you could meet today because he wanted to discuss what was going on. He kept it vague. Short.

Maybe he was holding off until the meeting.

It's obvious who started all of this. It's not hard to tell.

But, you agreed to meet after TAing for Yunho— letting Namjoon know you'd be there as soon as class was over. He agreed to the time and sent you a reassuring message towards the end, telling you all would be well and that he'd help you figure things out no matter what.

It was reassuring, but it doesn't mean you weren't scared.

Anxious.

Nervous.

Doesn't mean any if this it hurt any less. Doesn't mean you weren't angry, upset, sad. You still needed to feel it out, especially being alone and going through this without anyone else to talk to about it.

You had Eunchae, Jurin and Felix. But, you wished you had Jiung to talk to. You wished you didn't feel hurt about him, too.

—FLASHBACK

"So, you two are seeing each other?" Jurin asks while she sits in front of you and holds onto your knee to give it a gentle rub. Eunchae sits next to you with her arm over your shoulder, also giving you a gentle caress, squeeze. Felix sits next to Jurin and he's got a look of concern, but sadness. You had finally opened up about everything between you and San; from how things started, the conferences, staying at his house, being with him—

To not.

Jiung keeps himself posted near your window because he doesn't really wanna hear more about it but he needs to— to understand the full story. Part of him also feels guilty for what he did hearing your cries and how awfully torn up you are over Professor Choi.

San.

He's gotta get used to you calling him San like that.

"Were." You shake your head and press the tissue against your nose to pat it dry. "It's done with now."

"But, why? Couldn't you guys just play it off?" 

"I'm sure he wanted to be safe, though." Felix adds softly. "I think I kinda see where he's coming from." He looks at you. "I don't think he meant to hurt you, but he's probably trying to protect you and keep everything safe in the meantime. Once this blows over—"

"I doubt we'd get back together."

"Don't say that. You never know, Y/N. I agree with Lix. He's probably just trying to do what's best for now even if it hurts him to. I'm sure he cares a lot about you. I mean heck, he almost fucked up Hae-jin in front of everyone." You sigh and look down at your hands, the feeling of sadness and emptiness all consuming. 

"He does." Eunchae adds to Jurin's reassurance. "I don't know why Professor Lee and Professor Jeong think it's their business, though. Haven't they done enough damage?"

"Awful. People literally can't mind their business, especially when it has nothing to do with them."

"I get the power dynamics but Professor Choi doesn't seem like the type. So, honestly, it's not like anyone was getting hurt in the process." Jiung silently fiddles with his hoodie string as Felix goes on.

"And people clearly don't know you if they assume you're the one throwing yourself on him." Jurin adds.

"Damn. Two people can't just be together?" Felix shakes his head. "Anyway, you got us, and this will pass. I'm sure Professor Kim will do everything to help and figure things out, too." You dig your face into your hands, trying to wipe away the remaining tears before you nod and smile at Lix in appreciation for his support, too. 

Still, you can't help but notice how Jiung has remained quiet this entire time— barely able to maintain eye contact with you.

"Should we go to dinner? Get some food in you?" Eunchae gives you a small smile and giggle. You nod and stand with them, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror while the three start making their way out of your door.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"About?"

"I just have to tell you something. Probably shouldn't wait until after dinner."

"Um, okay?" You look at him, hands crossed over your chest in a vulnerable manner, doe-eyes peeking up at him as he lets out a hefty sigh. "What's on your mind?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I just wanna say I'm sorry and I hope you understand where I'm coming from. But—" He lets out another sigh before shaking his head, almost as if he were shaking his feelings off. Trying to tell himself he needs to say it. "I-I went to Professor Kim and told him about you and Professor Choi. I told him I thought you were being taken advantage of and that I was worried."

"What?" You can barely get out. "W-why would you do that?"

"I was really just worried and I wasn't sure how else to get to you. I-I thought Professor Kim would be able to help—"

"Jiung." You call his name and step back, not wanting to be in close proximity to him. You knew he was worried about you, but you didn't think he'd go off and talk to Namjoon about it right away. "Why would you do that? Why couldn't we just keep talking about it— why did you have to go and blow this up even more?!"

"I'm sorry, can you blame me?!—"

"You didn't have to go behind my fucking back and tell Professor Kim! I already told you it wasn't like that and you still told him it was?! What the actual hell, Jiung?"

"I was just worried about you! I was being your fucking bestfriend, trying to make sure you weren't hurt or anything."

"And then you made things worse. Are you happy?" You scoff. "Those assumptions could have really fucked up Professor Choi."

"What about you, Y/N? Why do you keep disregarding yourself?! Is that even healthy—"

"Healthy?! I'm telling you the truth!" You scoff. "And you don't know shit about me and him, so quit acting like you do." You throw your hands up in defeat because he'll never get it. "Forget it, okay? You'll never understand and I don't need you to."

"Hey, what's going on?" Felix pops his head in, confused at the ruckus going on behind doors. Truthfully, he heard everything just as he was approaching the door to check up on you, and he's not sure how to feel. It's hard. He feels like he's in the middle because he sees Jiung, he sees you.

"You guys can go off to dinner together, but I'll probably just stay behind." 

"But, Y/N—" Jiung adds in defeat.

"Why don't you and the girls go? We'll catch up later." Felix tugs him by the sleeve and gives him a look. "Give her some space." He mutters lowly just as he gets in close distance.

—END

Your alarm blares on the coffee table, a harsh reminder that you haven't really slept much. It was time to wrap up and get ready for Yunho's class— something you weren't entirely ready to tackle today either.

But, you get up anyway. 

You sigh and put on your brave face.

You throw on a simple sweater, jeans and your Sambas— dabbing a bit of mascara, brow gel and lip gloss to fix yourself up a tiny bit for the day. You were tired of feeling sad and dressing the part; the least you could do was finally get some fresh air and look decent enough for the world while coming out of your slump. You grab your things and pack up your bag, heading out of the door with your keys in hand.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San's lab.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San.

You let out a sigh and quietly walk over to the classroom in peace, keeping your head down for a majority of the time. 

Avoiding eye contact, avoiding anything having to do with the outside world in meantime.

"Hey!" Yunho says in his usual fashion. You give him a small smile, although you're not really sure why he's joining class yet again today. He had been joining your class in particular recently, and you knew why.

He just wanted to get under your skin.

"Hi." You respond, getting your laptop together. Yunho continues to watch you from where you're standing, noting the sadness that envelopes your entire body. The way you're avoiding him. The way it's so blatantly obvious that you know that he knows.

That Iseul is the reason why you're sad.

You don't say anything otherwise; keeping your head down and away from Yunho even while the class walks in. You continue to carry on with the last journal club of the class before giving everyone time to work on their final proposals before it's due at the end of the evening. A few people linger at the end of class to speak with you and Yunho to get your guidance on the last remaining bits of their proposals before they thank you for all your help and head out for the day.

You still haven't said a word to Yunho, and he can't help but ask:

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asks nonchalantly after class, looking at your figure even though you are avoiding eye contact with him while packing up your things.

"No."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't know why you're asking if something is wrong when you know what it is already. Don't you?" You look at him plainly from the side before gathering the rest of your things.

"Whatever's been happening between you and San is between you and San—"

"So, was it you who told Professor Kim? Or was it Professor Lee?" You cut him off. Yunho stares at you, and he doesn't respond. Of course he won't, of course he won't throw Iseul under the bus even though you know she was behind it.

"It was for the best."

"Quite frankly, I don't think you can speak on what's best for me or him. Especially him." You look at Yunho directly in the eye. "Are you both that determined to bring San down? Is that what this?" He furrows his brows.

"Reel it in, Y/N." He says, sternly. "Do you not understand how damaging this could be for both you and him? If anything, it was done to protect you both."

"What makes you think we weren't capable of doing so?" Yunho lets out a pathetic chuckle before he steps forward and leans towards your ear, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think snuggling up on campus and sneaking into his office is enough of a reason." He pulls back, licking his lips before dipping his hands into his pocket.

"And I think you need to learn how to mind your own business and let San handle his own." You scoff. "In any case, Yunho." You look him in the eye. "You and Iseul already ruined him from the beginning and you can't come to terms with it." You tilt your head to the side. "You both were never deserving of San, and that is sad. No wonder you two are miserable and are still keeping tabs on him." Yunho's mouth slightly drops, but he doesn't respond to your statement. "I'll help out with finals if needed. Otherwise, please consider my TA assignment with you done."

You almost run into Iseul as you stomp out of the classroom, leaving her to knit her brows at you in response.

"Nice talk." Iseul pops in, her husband biting his cheek.

"We should have never gotten involved with that, Iseul." He says lowly as he gathers his things together.

"Oh, so just let them—"

"That's exactly it, just let them be." He cuts her off and looks at her. "It didn't have to be us. We could've just let them be and let anyone else do the talking. Let them learn on their own." His jaw ticks.

"We did the right thing." She crosses her arms.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're taking the opportunity to destroy San and running with it. It didn't have to be us." He repeats, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"Yunho." She says. "You're not actually taking Y/N seriously, are you? She's delusional if she thinks all of this is okay and would've slipped."

"Don't call her delusional, Iseul. You have no say in their relationship or what they're about. You had no right. They knew what they were getting into. You just lead them into the trap for your own benefit." Yunho scoffs. "You wanted to see this unfold, didn't you? You wanted this to unfold in a specific way." 

"What is going on, Yunho?"

"We're not meddling in this anymore. If you're not ready to stop, count me out of it. I'm not doing this, I'm not picking at their business anymore." He grabs his things and takes the lead out of the room. Iseul scoffs and shakes her head, slowly trailing behind him.

As for you, you feel cold. You feel isolated. You feel empty. You walk out and find a hidden table behind the building and set yourself down to get yourself together. You let out a couple of breaths to ease your feelings, promising yourself you wouldn't cry over this anymore.

But, it hurts to hold it in.

It hurts.

You feel the dullness, the heavy ache, in the center of your chest, and it hurts.

You have to move on.

"Fuck." You sigh, hand over your chest to give it a few gentle rubs before you're back on your feet and checking the time. You need to see Professor Kim just like your promised.

Of course, as you're on your way to Professor Kim's office, you find San passing by with Yeosang and Jongho. His eyes land on you and you immediately break first, feeling the tears ready to well up in your eyes. He sees the way your head drops and how you turn away— he can't help but slightly turn over his shoulder to keep his eyes on you.

To lock eyes with you once more.

To feel.

But, it doesn't happen. And it fucks San up more than he expects because he doesn't know even know what Jongho and Yeosang are talking about anymore after that brief interception.

"Yo, you good?" Jongho taps his chest with a small chuckle, bringing San back to reality.

"Yeah. Sorry." He tries to play it off quickly but Jongho quickly turns over his shoulder to see you walking in the opposite direction.

"All good." He returns to San and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." San gives him a toothless smile. "Anyway, did you guys figure out where we're going before we make laps around campus?" Yeosang and Jongho share a quick look before they follow behind San and pick the conversation back up to prevent any of San's sadness from creeping up.

Meanwhile, you continue your way to Professor Kim's office, wiping away the stragglers that manage to escape your eyes and streak your cheeks. You weren't gonna let this get to you, so you quickly try to brush it off and get yourself together especially when you walk down the hallway and into Professor Kim's office. He's in his chair, typing away on his computer— glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N, come sit and make yourself comfortable." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, sitting down on the chair posted in front of his desk.

"Thanks for meeting with me today, Professor Kim."

"No, thank you." He chuckles and finally shifts his full attention towards you. "How are you today?"

"Uh, could be better but not complaining."

"Yeah? How was class with Professor Jeong?"

"Hm, okay." You hum before shifting in your seat nervously. 

"Just okay?" You nod. "Well, as long as there aren't any complaints or anything you wanna tell me." Namjoon knows you probably aren't having a great time in Yunho's class right now and he doesn't blame you.

"No." You force a smile. "Anyway, I see that I have to do my rotation presentation next week?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Y/N. You do understand why this is all happening, right?" You slowly nod. "I know you and San have been seeing each other, and I know he ended things the other day. I'm really sorry, but I just need to protect you both. Word is getting around fast and the dean isn't having it. I can't have him fire San, I can't have him kick you out of the grad program. Please just understand why things have to be this way. I just need it to settle."

"I do." You respond weakly before looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Professor Kim. I didn't mean— we didn't mean for this to blow up. I-I know we shouldn't have been so sloppy and reckless, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, hey." He shakes his head with a sympathetic look. "No need to be sorry. I promise all is fine, and that's why I'm here to help and protect you both." You look at him with a sad nod, and you aren't sure why that's the tipping point for you but you suddenly start to break down in front of Professor Kim. He feels his heart breaks because he knows there wasn't any power play in this; he knows San as a person, and he's familiar with you as a student and the work you do. There was no way either of you used any power or position for your advantage. He knew this had been a genuine, real relationship— it's just truly unfortunate it had to unfold this way.

If word hadn't gotten around, maybe Namjoon wouldn't care at all. 

But, he has to now, and that's what makes everything hard about his role.

"I promise everything is going to be okay." He says softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Namjoon shakes his heas, watching the way you cry into your hands.

"Y/N, it's okay. You can let it out if you need to." He passes you the tissue box. "Can I ask you something? And be honest. I've already figured out your plan for school so you don't have to hold back." Namjoon says. "Do you care about him?" You nod as you continue to cry, the ache in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. 

You miss San.

"But, it doesn't matter because he ended it. It's over with."

"He only did so because of my guidance, and I'm sorry about that. I told him this too, but it's not something I wanted to do. Trust me. As his friend, it's the first time I've seen him genuinely and truly happy. It's all I wanted after the things he's gone through. But, I just can't risk it right now. San is beginning to reach new heights with his career and getting more real estate to do things he's been wanting to do with Jongho. You're also just getting into the groove of things. I don't want either of your hard work to get snatched away over something like this."

"No, I know Professor Kim. I do understand and I'm grateful. It just sucks. I don't know how else we would've gotten away with it, I guess." You sniff. "Maybe it had to happen."

"Look, I told him this, too. But, I can't police every detail and tell you who you can and can't date. If San is someone you care about, then so be it, but the only thing I ask of you is to keep it off campus. I cannot have you two interacting on campus or else he's out. Not by my choice, but the committee."

"I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I know, and he said the same thing about you. He cares just as much, so don't think that he doesn't." You dab your face with the napkin and nod.

"Jiung confessed and told me he came to you about it." Namjoon nods.

"I think he was just worried as your friend. Rightfully so. But, I think he also shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions right away."

"I told him that."

"If I hadn't known San so well, I probably would've believed Jiung." He sighs. "It's alright, he didn't know and he was worried. Are you two okay?"

"Not really, but I think we just need time. I'm trying to see his side of things, but I also didn't think he'd do that so it caught me off guard."

"I see. Well. Give yourself some time and grace, okay? I'm sorry it had to be this way for now." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. Eyes still shiny and watery from the crying you've just done. 

I'm sorry it had to be this way for now.

It repeats in your head over and over again because why does it feel like this is just how it's gonna be? Despite Namjoon reassuring you, despite San's explanation. Why does it just feel like a fleeting moment? A chapter in your book— a part that was never really supposed to last.

"Thank you." He gives you a smile.

"So, shifting to the program. I was thinking I could pull you into my lab and we can figure out things as time goes on? Explore other options if there's anything else you'd wanna explore." You nod. "You know there's other paths we can look into, or if you're totally fine with where you're at in my lab, then we can just stick with that plan."

"That sounds good. Thank you, Professor Kim."

"Unfortunately, like I mentioned, I can't have you interacting with Professor Choi. I'll have to make sure you don't take any of his classes or end up in any collaboration projects with him." You nod.

"Okay. I understand." 

"You'll have to halt all your work in his lab immediately. You can grab your things when you feel ready to, but I'll have you in my lab starting next week. I know it'll be a bit crazy with your rotation presentation, but I promise to make it a smooth transition." 

"Okay." You purse your lips. "I'm almost finished with my rotation presentation."

"That's great!"

"It'll just be us three?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not the usual format but I need the dean to see all the good work you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate your support."

"Do you have any questions so far? Any other concerns?" You think for a second before shaking your head.

"No."

"I'll send you some onboarding info and give you the contacts to some key people in my lab to help you get started. We can figure out your project and goals in a little more depth next week. Let's aim for a Monday morning meeting? 9am?"

"Good with me." 

"Thanks, Y/N. And please trust me when I say all is gonna be well."

"Thank you." 

"See you next week? Be sure to keep an eye out for my emails." You nod as you stand and tuck your bag closely to you.

"I will." You give him another smile before heading out of the door. Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and plops back down onto his chair, picking up his direct line to ring the dean's office phone. It rings for a few minutes before the dean is answering on the other end.

"Namjoon."

"Hey. Can we meet today to talk about what's been going on? I can be over in the next 15 minutes."

"I'm free, but I have a hard cut off in 45 minutes."

"That's plenty of time. I'll be there soon."

"See you." Joon hangs up and gathers his things, loosening his tie to get himself together for this meeting. He doesn't necessarily wanna do this, nor does he think he's ready for whatever the dean could unleash on him.

On you, on San.

But, he has a job to do and he'll make damn sure he gets his point across. He'll make damn sure he controls this well, and he'll make sure nothing happens to the both of you.

When he gets into the building and heads straight for the dean's office, he's greeted by the front desk and his executive assistant. The dean's assistant knocks on his door and pops her head in to give him a heads up about Namjoon's visit. It isn't long before she's gesturing for him to come into his office, stepping out and slowly shutting the door behind her once Namjoon's settled in the seat in front of him.

"Namjoon."

"Dean Louie." Namjoon clears his throat. "Can we discuss what's been going on? I've got a chance to review this more in depth."

"Great. So, tell me. What's with the anonymous tip? Is there truth behind San and his student's relationship?"

"No." The dean looks at him with his head cocked to the side. "Not at all."

"Namjoon. This isn't the time to play games."

"Who said I was?" Joon asks. "This is purely a rumor and there is nothing going on between the two of them. To keep things safe, I'll make sure they don't cross paths and interact on campus, and I'll make sure to work closely with her and keep her under my wing." Namjoon says.

"A rumor? That blew up around campus? What about Iseul and Yunho? Iseul told me about the happy hour event with San. All of this seems too good to be true, and if you're covering for them—" Namjoon cuts him off.

"Since when did Iseul and Yunho have their best interest in San? All I know is that they've always been the driving issue, not San." Namjoon looks at the dean confused. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a rumor is a rumor and I've gotten to the bottom of it. I talked to the both of them and they denied it through and through. The only reason why San got caught up in the whole happy hour business was because a postdoc was crossing the line and being really disrespectful to her. Any one of us would've done it had we caught it right away like San did." Namjoon continues to furrow his brows. "Now, please. I'd appreciate if we can move on." The dean sits back and lets out a hefty sigh.

"Go on."

"As stated in my email, she will do her rotation presentation in front of myself, you and San. After that, she will be removed from his lab and will be placed in mine. We'll have weekly check-ins, and I'll work with her to move her classes around and realign her priorities so that she and San don't cross paths in this program again."

"And what about this real estate in the building? I'm not going to give it over if this is what San plans to do—"

"I'm sorry, but this shouldn't define San and his work." Namjoon pauses. "He's not, alright? I already confirmed it was a rumor and there is nothing going on. No reason for you to pull back on that real estate deal especially when Jongho had nothing to do with this either and San has already explained his side and agreed to comply regardless. She'll be out of his lab." The dean gives Namjoon a stern look.

"You better make damn sure this doesn't happen again, Namjoon. No rumors, no slip ups. And you make sure those three stop causing trouble on campus. Iseul, Yunho and San. I don't care who did what and who is blaming who, I need this to stop. Now. We can't have childish, petty issues running amuck on this campus."

"You have my word."

"If I hear San and Y/N in the same sentence again, I can't promise it will be the same outcome."

"With all due respect, I need you to understand that whatever they do, whatever happens off campus, doesn't concern me and shouldn't concern you either. I cannot police their behavior and make them act a certain way off grounds. They are both grown, mature adults that can make decisions on their own, and you know that's unfair and very unrealistic." The dean doesn't say much. He mutters a few things under his breath before he's returning his attention to Namjoon.

"Not a damn word about them ever again, Namjoon. I mean it." The dean warns him again before settling into his seat and returning his attention to his desktop computer. Namjoon does a quick, silent bow before walking out, sighing loudly to himself as he's finally gotten that over with.

Still doesn't make it any easier knowing he had his friend make a very difficult decision that he did not wanna do.

He hopes in time, this could blow over and San could be happy again. Despite this hurdle, he's betting on it. On you and him.

Maybe when you come back together, circumstances will be different enough that it won't make the relationship seem as bad as it does right now.

"Shit." Namjoon clicks his teeth when he finally gets out of the building and breathes in the fresh air. He is exhausted, but his day isn't about to be over, no. On his way back to his office, he finds Yunho speaking to a few colleagues in the courtyard. He must have gotten out of a meeting and was walking his visitors out.

And Namjoon doesn't give a fuck. That visit is ending now.

"Professor Kim! It's an honor to see you in the flesh!" Namjoon smiles at his guests before returning the favor.

"Hi there." Namjoon does a curt bow. "Hope you've enjoyed your visit."

"Completely. We had a great collaboration meeting with Professor Jeong here, and he gave us a tour around."

"That's great, yeah." Namjoon smiles before looking at Yunho. "Can we talk in my office?" Namjoon says near Yunho's ear. "Now?"

"Sure." Yunho bids his last farewell before excusing himself and following Namjoon straight to his office. No words being spoken or shared. Namjoon shuts the door and sighs, looking at Yunho with his hand on his hip. "What's going on, Joon?"

"I'm just trying to understand why you and Iseul are trying so hard to ruin that man's reputation. The dean told me Iseul went over there to give him more of her little intel on San."

"I don't know what she said or did—"

"You still knew about it, didn't you?" Namjoon looks at him. "You knew this whole time Iseul was trying to raise hell about this and you let her."

"How is this not wrong?"

"No one said it wasn't wrong, Yunho!" Namjoon raises his tone. "There were just better ways to go about it than throwing San's name out there the way you two did. Just throwing him out there to the wolves without even knowing the full story. That's the problem!"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like it now, but we were looking out for him and everyone else potentially involved."

"Except me. If you knew better, you both would've let me handle this accordingly. This doesn't just affect him, Yunho. It affects you both. It affects me. It affects Y/N, Jongho, everyone. Because you both didn't know how to be discreet about your plans to bring San down."

"It was never like that!"

"Then, what was it like? Tell me. As his colleague, as someone who acted purely for their own benefit, what was it like? As San's ex-bestfriend, what was it like?" Yunho doesn't respond. "This isn't high school, Yunho. I'm sorry, but the both of you need to grow up."

"We just tried to do the right thing and I don't take any of it back. If you fail to see that, then that's on you—"

"Oh, so approaching the dean to give him more talk in his ear with your so-called evidence before coming to me is doing the right thing?" Namjoon looks at him. "What was the goal here? What did this plan look like to you and Iseul?” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I don't wanna hear it, she already came into my office to talk my ear off about this. That should've been enough to let me handle it." Namjoon furrows his brows at him. 

"We just thought we were helping everyone—"

"Helping? Yourself or Iseul?" Namjoon shakes his head. "You know what, this is done. The damage is done. So, thank you and Iseul for your generous help." Yunho sighs. "Now that you've done all the talking, it's my turn." Joon steps closer to him. "As long as I'm around, I'll continue to keep the peace in this department, and that means I don't want you and Iseul meddling in San's personal matters ever again." Namjoon's jaw ticks as he and Yunho stare at each other in the brief pause that falls between them. "I don't want you meddling in Y/N's personal matters, I don't want you two doing anything on this campus besides running your labs and minding your own goddamn business. Do you understand me?" Namjoon places his hands on his hips while he and Yunho maintain eye contact. Yunho swallows thickly before nodding, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Yes sir."

"The next time you and Iseul wanna act like I don't know how to do my job, I promise I'll be good with reminding you."

—read 14.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.

[beigebeignett]

I do love angst but I'm also a sucker for happy endings and re-incarnation, so here's my take on what happens (decades/centuries) after:

The sphinx and her lover: reimagined

Imagine that the sphinx ends up dying, as all living creatures do, and ends up reincarnated as a very smart yet terrifying young scientist. 

Her passion in her fields equals her distaste for other people; especially men who try to undermine her knowledge and talent at dates. So, she sets up a strategy to determine who is worthy of her time.

If you want to get a date with me, solve my riddles, wrong answers will get you blocked. 

There, done, she thinks. If that doesn't make men stop bombarding her with messages, she doesn't know what will (well, she can think of a few others, but she'd rather not spend more time and energy than she's already spending on such a silly matter). 

And so, she starts getting less messages, with only some men and women being brave (or foolish) enough to try and chat with her. 

The ones that try to answer her riddles don't usually last long; getting the second or third wrong. Some don't even last the first one; those are usually the most bothersome, acting as if she has no right to choose her partner, as if she's being too ruthless (when she'd been honest since the beginning). 

Weeks pass before she gets another message. And so, she does as she always does. This time though, something's different. He keeps getting her riddles right, over, and over, and over. 

How curious, she thinks. How curious indeed, when he asks her if he could try asking her a riddle. She scoffs at her phone, partially amused, and agrees. 

She gets the answer right, of course, so he keeps asking riddle after riddle and she does the same, as if they were playing a game of pass the ball. The riddles get increasingly difficult, and the time those three dots stay floating on the chat grows longer as well; but she doesn't mind. She can wait a bit more for this one. Plus, while she waits, she can get lab reports done instead of worrying about finding new questions to ask that man. 

Sometimes days go by without her seeing any new riddles for him; sometimes a week passes before he gets asked another one. 

She must be busy, he thinks. He must have other things to do, she assumes. 

Between riddles, they start to talk about more mundane things: his job, her career, his essay on ancient Greek marriage practices; her paper on nuclear magnetic resonance in chemical engineering… He sends her pictures of his cat napping on top of his dictionaries and encyclopaedias, basking in the sun; and in turn she sends him pictures of boards filled with equations and pictures of filled excel tables.

Soon, they start chatting more, asking riddles occasionally when they’re both tired of talking about themselves. 

She learns that he’s an Archaeology major, and he finds out that she’s already getting her doctorate; something about chemical engineering, she explains. He’s fascinated by the topic, asking her a million questions about what it’s like, her doctorate subject, how did she choose her career path… And in turn she asks him about archaeology; why did he choose to spend his life studying the past, what is it that he enjoys the most about his field of work… 

They agree to meet up at the local library two days later. 

Almost a foot taller than him; that’s how tall she is. She’s waiting for him sitting near the entrance, browsing through architecture magazines when he finds her. He smiles and warmly waves at her, formally introducing himself, and extends his hand for her to shake; so she stands up as well to take it and introduce herself as well. That’s when they notice.

Even though he’s not short himself (considering the standards) at 5'9", at almost 7 feet tall she towers over him. Their aesthetics seem to clash a bit as well: his outfit is quite simple: some basic jeans and a nice cream wool jumper paired up with some sneakers, and hers consists of a pleated red skirt and a shirt paired with black knee-high boots to combat the cold. Out of the chat, and now face to face, their conversation flows easily; they exchange book recommendations, and of course they ask each other some riddles to pass the time. 

Overall, their first date goes well. Better than she expected, honestly, which is why when he asks her for a second date, she agrees.

To be continued...?

[mylovescara]

ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮♡

𝘤𝘸; 𝘔𝘋𝘕𝘐!! 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘺!𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰, 𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰

choso sat in front of you his huge bulge showing through his slacks his hands fidgeting with a bashful look on his face “I-i don't know what's wrong with me… I was just daydreaming a-and this happened...” he says referring to his very obvious bulge

You look at the way he is looking away and can immediately tell he was not just “daydreaming” but alas you can tell he hasn’t a clue why his cock is hard and leaking in his pants “It’s ok Choso I’ll help that’s why am here ok?” you wonder why you were his first choice to call for help, he probably knew this wasn’t a situation where he could call Yuji or anyone else but why you?

Choso’s eyes lighten up when you say you'll help him and he finally makes eye contact “… really?” you nod and start to move closer to him “Can I touch you choso? Let me help you feel better sweetie” he gives you a verbal confirmation and you lean in putting your hand over his clothed cock eliciting a gasp from him.

“t-this feels…different,” he says confused having never felt these feelings before not knowing why all he can think about is how pretty you would look undressed, he bites his lip as you unzip his pants and start slowly rubbing your hand up and down his cock the thin layer of his underwear making it feel as if there’s no barrier between your hand at all.

“G-God…d-don’t stop” you chuckle knowing you haven’t even done much yet and he’s already so worked up “Choso, can I take it out?” He nods his head frantically wanting nothing more then to feel your warm hands bare on him, as soon as you pull the band of his boxer down his hard erection springs out standing upwards at your attention.

You slowly start moving your hand up and down his cock causing more precum to spill from his redden tip “a-ah! fuck…y/n” he bites his lip and starts moving his hips subconsciously thrusting his cock in your hand “you getting close Choso?” He nods his head moans flying out his mouth not able to even realise all the sound he’s making.

“I-I feel like I’m about t-to explode..!” you start moving your hand faster and Choso can’t help but be restless, his body has never felt this kind of pleasure before and he doesn’t know how to handle it, it’s making him feel light-headed and confused at the same time the feeling of it being to overstimulating but not wanting it to stop.

“I-its g-gonna come out…!” choso not knowing what's about to happen throws his head back letting out a cacophony of moans as he shoots his cum all over your hand, his cock throbbing as he continues to cum for another 15 seconds painting your hand white going to show how bad he needed this.

you continue moving your hand letting him ride out the last couple seconds of his orgasm before he grabs your hand to stop it “p-please…t-to much” he can't help but have a submissive look on his face, drool spilling down the corner of his lips and tears brimming his eyes.

You smile and bring your clean hand up to his face stroking his cheek wiping the stray tears off his face “Choso did you enjoy it?” he nods slowly feeling embrassed once again as he avoids eye contact, you bring a kiss to his cheek and put his softening erection back in his pants for him.

“….thank you” he mumbles not knowing what to say to fucked out to think of words “if you ever need my help again don't hesitate ok?” he smiles slightly at your words knowing hell have to take you up on that offer.

y'all I'm so sorry for not posting for like 5 years sometimes I just icba 💔

[moonstruckme]

Inspired by this adorable fic by @inkdrinkerworld <3

cw: hospital, mention of surgery, reader has a fear of anesthesia/being unconscious

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 940 words

You wish that stupid heart monitor would stop exposing you to everyone in the hospital wing. 

“You’re fine.” James rubs his palm over your heart consolingly. “Deep breaths.” 

You inhale, and he does it with you, you feel his chest expand against your back. James got into bed with you soon after you got here, when you wouldn’t stop trying to get up and pace the room. After your IV was put in, Sirius threatened to sit on you if you tried to get out of bed again. James is a nicer compromise. 

“This is so stupid.” Your exhale comes out in a disbelieving huff. “I don’t even have to do this.” 

“Dove, you’re already here,” Remus reasons. “You’ve come this far, let’s just see it through. You’ll be alright.” 

Truly, you’re not sure how you wound up here. When your doctor recommended you for surgery, you said you’d think about it, but you were lying. You knew it, your boyfriends knew it, your doctor probably knew it too. Going under was something you had no intention of ever, ever doing. You didn’t know if the problems you were having would persist without the recommended procedure. You almost didn’t care. The one thing you knew for absolutely sure was that you did not want it to happen. 

And yet, it began to. All it took was one evening of lovingly made hot cocoa and sweet-talking from James to get you to set up the appointment. From there, the date marched continually closer, and all your boyfriends had to do was keep you from backing out. To their credit, they’ve had extraordinary follow through. Suddenly you find yourself in a hospital bed waiting for a surgery you could swear wasn’t going to happen. 

“You don’t even have to stay the night,” Sirius says. He’s sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs against the wall, undeterred by the plastic arm digging into his thigh. “We’ll have you home by dinnertime. Focus on that, doll.” 

“I want to be home now,” you mumble. You know you’re acting childish, but you’d rather gripe than cry, and the way you’re feeling those are your only two options. “Are we sure I can’t be awake?” 

“You don’t want to be awake.” James kisses behind your ear. “It’s quite bloody. You’d think it was gross.” 

“Don’t scare her,” Remus cautions quietly. 

You talk over him. “I’d rather be grossed out and know what was happening.” 

Sirius leans forward to grasp your hand, shushing you. “You already know what’s going to happen, baby. We’ve been over the whole thing. Do you want to hear it again?” 

“No.” In truth, hearing about the procedure had grossed you out. But that’s not your main issue. Tears prick your eyes. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. His thumb runs over your knuckles. “You’re okay. You’re going to be just fine. Home by dinner, remember?” 

“I just… “ You pull in a wavering breath. “I really don’t like the idea of being unconscious while people poke and prod at me, and I can’t wake up. It freaks me out.”

“No one is going to poke or prod at you.” Remus is leaning his forearms on his knees, eyes honey soft. “It’s a routine procedure. They do it all the time, it’s their job.” 

“I’d just feel better if I could be awake.” 

“It’d be so much scarier if you were awake. This way, you only go to sleep, and the next thing you know it’s done.” 

“That’s the worst part, though. It’s not like I can wake up even if I want to. I’ll be completely helpless.” 

“Sweetheart, no one is going to hurt you.” 

“I know that.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks gently. 

You shut your eyes, tipping your face down as tears start to drip from your nose. 

“Baby,” Sirius coos. His fingers feel cool against your cheek, cupping so he can kiss between your brows. James hugs you tighter. “Oh, shh, shh. I’m sorry you’re so scared, sweet girl. It’s really not so bad as you’re thinking.” 

“Can you come with me?” you whisper. It’s not the first time you’ve asked, but you’re hoping this display of obvious patheticness will sway things in your favor. 

“You know we would if we could, doll. They’re really strict about who’s allowed in the room.” 

You nod, taking in a ragged breath. 

“We’ll be with you until you go in,” James offers, “and as soon as you wake up. You’ll get to meet your anesthesiologist before, too. Her name’s Kara, she’s a sweetheart.” 

That James knows the person trusted with putting you out does comfort you some. He pats your chest with his hand over your heart, gentle and rhythmic. Slowly, it lulls yours into complaisance. Your heart monitor stops its ratcheting. 

“Breathe.” James exhales slowly. “We won’t let anything happen to you. You’re in good hands, angel, I promise.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, opening your sore eyes. “I know I’m being crazy.” 

Sirius is squatting by your bed now. He tuts, quick to right you. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re scared, it’s fine. I wish you weren’t because it’d be easier for you, but it’s not your fault.” 

“You’ll feel better once you’re in there,” Remus promises. “Really, lovely, it’s so much less daunting than you’re imagining it to be. It’s going to go by so easily. And then we’ll be with you, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. 

“What do you think?” James presses his cheek to your ear, pleasantly warm. “You think you can go an hour without us? You’ll be okay?” 

You make a low, reluctant sound. “Maybe.” 

“There’s our girl.”

[beatlblog]

#ringo be like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️lol (via cocaineskinny909)

#and Paul's little elvish giggle like the fucking Pillsbury dough boy (via monkberryfields)

#those two being annoying as always#paul over there twirling his hair and giggling#girl. you’re in an interview (via longing4yesterday)

#in front of the whole press????#embarrasing (via slutty-oranges)

the whole entire press

#mom and dad leaving the kid to answer the phone. HURRY UP JOHN COME BACK RINGO DOESN'T KNOW! (via mylonghairedladyy)

#ringo could have bashed their heads together if he wanted to and he didn’t. that’s bravery! (via oneafter909)

#I would hatttteeeee them if I was ringo (via slegastagirl)

#ringo is our strongest soldier (via jarsfullofstarrs)

#god#they should've been killed for this#how did their friends DEAL WITH THIIIIIIIIS (via repressedgaymer)

#oh they're so annoying#like I'm sorry is this interview interrupting ur conversation (via saturn-iidae)

#can't keep his hands off of him#ringo you can hit them with the table on their heads and I'd support you (via ringosmistress)

#some times i want to strangle them#but ringo is so funny here#he just acts like nothings happening (via ringo-starrdust)

#TALKING BEHIND RINGO IS CRAZY (via kickittothekerbe)

#pda in the middle school hallway ass mfs (via therealestwizard)

#lmao ringo calling john OUT (via origami-money)

#silly#but ringo needs to clock them (via deadmornings)

george certainly is

#the streets are asking you to keep some space for jesus 🙏🏽 (via sohardlovingyou)

#Chalk and Cheese at it again 🙄#Guys do you think John had something important to say to Paul that couldn’t wait#or did he just manifest the moment so that he could hear Paul’s cute little giggle and press their foreheads together? (via didwemeetsomewherebefore)

#them#so secretive and for what (via alwaystoreturntome)

#get a room (via 70snasagay)

#ringo looks so sick of them 😭😭😭 (via youvejustbeen-quattroed)

#ringo looks disgusted 😭 (via pinketine)

#I just know Ringo and George where tired of them (via monkeytime333)

ya THINK?

#Look dudes I know ya had to do a lotta press interviews#but Ringo is not a wall! (via shinygoku)

#yes#ringo#yes you have the rightto punch them#we all are jealousof their relationship#and they are speaking when george does#you have the right (via unburstedbubble)

#are all boybands like this? some day I will have to dive into the Lennon and McCartney lore (via inalltheirgorgeouscolors)

#no because hold on a Michael Owen#the way Paul leaned in as soon as he saw John#I can NOT handle this#and they way they were basically face to face has me dead#Holy Spirit and all the rest of it#oh wow (via nufc-carraville)

Ringo’s disapproving side-eye 💀 (via epistolaryfairy)

#the suppressed smile after getting paul giggling.....punchable (via paulpropaganda)

#the fact that you can still hear john call him (via pioggia-latte)

#and ringo annoyed with them (via midnightblueiris)

Ringo:😅excuse me? (via indefiniteluv)

#they are soooooooo#la parejita de atras se me separa (via sansaren)

#LICHERALLY bypassing Ringo (via johns-prince)

#SOOOOOO ANNOYING U R ADULTS (via beatlestheirmeatles)

George is unproblematically chilling over there on the right like 😎 (via crashing-a-jeep)

#for all the tragedy that comes with loving them we also are really lucky bc how is this real lol (via sohardlovingyou)

they're so annoying....... like ur in the middle of an interview.....

[urstruly-ghst]

the challenge - rook hunt !

in which the challenge you set out for is now in full swing (inspired by epic: the musical with the song, the challenge).

authors note: epic the musical my beloved. i love love love this request submitted by @padf-0-ot ! thank you for waiting; im sorry it took a while, im managing tho

requested ask !

cw: may not understand if you don't know the context of epic/the odyssey

rook hunt

wearing the crown was a heavy responsibility, it had been placed on you since you were born. it was what came to be with the blood you hone beneath your skin. however, that duty carried was always alleviated with rook by your side. he was the one who made your crown a secod thought, contrary to what you grew up with.

but, it soon occured to you it would be heavy on your head once more; rook hunt was lost in a mission, it was supposed to end quickly, but he didn't return. neither did his comrades. there was no word, no letter, not even a sign from any other kingdom. that worried you, that worried the kingdom. each one of your subjects looked at the empty throne beside you, sharing that worry and fear (or perhaps, they all share the glory of seeing you reign alone.)

each men rally up, their thoughts of ascending to the social ranks clouded their empathy. the suitors know how grievous it must be to be alone, holding onto the hope that rook was not dead, but they also seem not to care. there was no king, no one to share your burdens, surely you'd want company?

no matter their attempts to take the throne, you'd stall. it was an array of stalling, you used up every excuse you can try. first it was grief, second was the state was in a crisis, and now.... they've grown impatient. it has been years, yet the throne gets colder as the king fails to return or send a sign. will he ever return?

"i refuse!" you yell as the council all stare. it was you who had the power, why was the council allowing such arrangements to happen?they sat in front of you, the crown, and begged for you to marry a suitor.

how dare they ask that from you? after all your work to keep the crisis at bay, they repay you with a torturous task?

"your majesty, this is what would further benefit our kingdom. you have stalled long enough." the eldest council proclaimed as they showcased data and news from the kingdom. morale is low. especially after the storm that struck your shores.

you glare as you saw the undeniable problem and the solution was clear as day. you couldn't hold onto the thrown nor the crisis forever, but...

you had hope. rook hunt was out there, you could feel it in your bones. there was no way he'd be dead. the council looks at you, waiting on your next word, your plan.

"i have one more challenge. this is the last one. bring me to the armory." you say as you surrendered. but even if you surrendered, you wouldn't allow them, not even for a second, to think they had their wishes granted.

---

you glare as you held your husband's bow as the guards open the gates to your throne room. the suitors chattered amongst themselves but soon silenced as they saw you enter.

"this here is my husband's bow." you say as you raised the bow, it was sturdy, comically large, and a symbol of his prowess. "it has long snapped, but none can restring it. my challenge is this,"

you unveil the axes that were lined up, "whoever strings this bow, and shoot through these axes cleanly..." you hesitate, "will became the new king, my new husband"

"that's what those were for" one suitor said, "it doesn't make sense!" the other proclaimed

the mumurs were loud, each suitor boasting or complaining over the challenge, you glare at them as you see them scramble to get to the bow.

among the crowds was your husband, rook, who stood silent by the pillars. rook laughed at how gullible these men were to believe that they can even string the bow. it takes a wit of the hunt's to know how to string it, it was a family heirloom. it curved weirdly, deceiving those who do not know to string it properly.

but he watched, in amusement. it was all their efforts that made it a comedy. rook watched each suitor try and try as they struggled to even get the string on the end of the bow. rook watched as each suitor soon gave up on even the bow, feeling the dismay build up. in his ragged clothes, rook hid in the shadows noting every weakness and strengths of each man.

“such a shame, these men seem to lack the knowledge to know a deception” rook muttered in sadness as he circled around them. the last suitor dropped the bow and screamed in the room,

“screw this competition. don’t you see we’re being played?!” it was an outraged yell as they point at the throne room, as if they’re trying to yell at you for this competition. and by virtue, they were being played, rook can appreciate this from the man. At the very least, one man knew his queen’s wit. 

as the suitors gather around feeling they’re now understanding the consequences of their foolish parade around the bow, rook swiftly takes the bow and strings it with ease. unknown to him, rook was being watched by the sidelines. you were there, seeing him in silence, not recognizing him and had your heart beat in anticipation as the bow was being strung.

thwack! 

the arrow flew gracefully to the end, hitting the target on the wall. the chatter died down, as the riot that was bubbling over ended. the arrow stabbed firmly on the end of the target, it made the suitors shut up. rook revealed his identity by letting his hood and shadow go, revealing a disheveled man who’s eyes were tired but victorious.

“mon dieu! it was painful to watch this challenge be failed by my country’s men, it is a simple test of wit.” rook smiled as he waved the strung bow, and the men were confused, it looked so normal in the king’s hand. 

“how?!” one yelled, the others were scrambling trying to see if this was a trick, did he hide the other bow? who was he? how dare he win the challenge!

“rook?” you whisper as you open the throne room, the light shining brightly.

“mon amour.” rook replied with a smile.