#i do genuinely think it's the wasted potential that draws me in personally. there's so much he COULD be doing. so much fanfic fuel.

[total-drama-brainrot]

actually i despise the way that, out of all of the potential characters my brain chose to fixate on out of this show, the queercoded embodiment of gifted kid burnout was the one it settled on.

not the girlboss mean girls ripoff. not the perfectionist overachiever with control issues. not the overconfident over-competent manipulator. not THE goth girl artistic activist of the 2000s. you know, literally any of the characters with things like screen time or character development (read: character regression)

[flying-fangirls]

Arthur's Story

Okay so now that Part 46 is out and we got that moment of John explaining what Arthur's train story meant to him, I kinda want to talk about this particular allusion myself. Arthur's retelling is mostly pretty close to the original, but I am going to get into interpretation/implementation stuff. So if you want to read the original story for full context, it's "Solitude" by Ben Ames Williams!

To start bluntly: I do not like the Lilly comparison /nm

I'm not saying it's wrong per se, but I do believe it's a fairly weak conclusion that misses out on a lot of other potential.

Let's back up.

Alright, so if you go and read it, you'll quickly see that the original short story, "Solitude," is ridiculously well-aligned with the tone and mood of Malevolent. There are ideas of cosmic insignificance, perseverance and despair, questioning morality and "goodness," and helping others in dark times. (it does have some of the weird hallmarks of early 1900s white dude writing, but otherwise I actually quite like this story! it's got nice vibes and pretty words)

Where It Falls Short

Now, an allusion is a reference within a story to an outside piece of information, and its entire purpose is to add new depth. A good allusion considers the full context of whatever it's referencing, and uses that context to its advantage. It challenges the audience to work through that outside context and uncover some new perspective(s) on characters, themes, and/or plot— something they otherwise had not seen or considered before.

The thing is, when Part 46 applies the "Solitude" allusion to Lilly specifically, there's nothing new gained whatsoever. What does John tell us during this moment?

Lilly took care of him, showed him his first glimpse of humanity, and gave him a name— all good stuff! But also all old stuff, these details have all been said in the show before, some more than once. Since we know that the main point of an allusion is to bring something new to the table, then this implementation fails on that point because all it's done is simply rehash previously established perspectives on Lilly.

Not only does this take on the allusion fall short, the show's interpretation also limits our ability to understand it. This isn't a moment where the podcast shows us new information and lets us draw our own conclusions. This is a moment where John stands in for the podcast's voice, and he tells us what it considers the "right" interpretation. Even if we had formed our own interpretation about this allusion, the show has now essentially told us that those interpretations are "wrong" (which isn't an antagonistic move on the show's part, by the way! just the message it's unconsciously implying)

I agree that John's connection between the story and his experience with Lilly in Part 46 is a genuinely sweet moment! But unfortunately, because it neglects to take a new path, it's also a predictable moment that loses its strength among all the other sweet Lilly moments. And that takes away any chance for the allusion to impact the audience in a unique way, wasting its full potential.

Where It Misses Out

(now here comes the English major moment when I tell you why I'm right and you're not /j)

Alright, again, the Lilly comparison isn't wrong. I think it's totally legitimate to see this story about a woman helping an injured and lonely man, and think of Lilly! But personally, when I heard Arthur's retelling, I never once considered Lilly until the show told me to (12 episodes later). When I listened to Part 29 and the first half of the story, I admittedly was totally lost and dug through those lines over and over to find a meaning. And the only real interpretation that naturally came to me was a parallel to Arthur and John's journey. A man lost in a terrifying world, at the whims of forces much stronger than him, who has lost all of his loved ones to death or abandonment? Yeah, that's literally just Arthur and John.

And the conclusion in Part 39 only seemed to support that interpretation more— Moll abandons her entire life to follow Mat into the cold and dark, John and Arthur both (literally and figuratively) throw their lives away to help the other through the dark. We can even swap who's who here— either Arthur or John could be Mat struggling to survive as a "good" person, and either one could be Moll extending a hand to that person.

There's also a particular line that John says in Part 46 that feels completely out of place with the interpretation the show tells us:

He implies that Lilly did the same as Moll and shut out everything around them. But when Lilly takes care of John in the hospital, his development there isn't that she "drove out the world." Lilly brought the world closer to John, not further away— she helped him expand his focus outward, not close it off.

However, this line does fit extremely well with John and Arthur's dynamic! How often have we heard about these two's edges blurring, about their minds and emotions and internal selves blending together? How many times have these two expressed a love so codependent that it rejects everything outside of themselves? Heck, John's major emotional plot in s4 revolved around the desire to shut out the outside world and isolate himself together with Arthur.

Just like how Moll's arrival drove out the world for Mat, the arrival of John into Arthur's life certainly drove out the rest of the world, pulling him away from his job, home, and friends. Likewise, the arrival of Arthur into John's life most definitely drove out the rest of the world, removing him from the legacy of the King and literal world of the Dreamlands.

The podcast tries to push its Lilly interpretation into a mold that it simply does not fit. And in doing so, it completely misses the perfect connection between Moll/Mat and John/Arthur that already exists. "Solitude" offers a naturally perfect bridge between its story and Malevolent's, but Part 46 steers us away from that bridge and straight into the river where we're left without any strong understanding or impact.

Where It Could Go

Not only does a Jarthur interpretation of Arthur's story connect the allusion to the podcast well, it also gives us a new perspective to think about Jarthur with (again, the most important part of a good allusion).

Earlier I said that Arthur's retelling of "Solitude" mostly followed the story, and that's because he leaves out one key detail: Moll had spent most of her life trapped as the victim of abusive men who forced her to neglect herself and care for people who didn't care for her back. (Admittedly, I think it's weird the show ignored this specific detail, but most allusions do intentionally require outside work on the audience's part, so for now I'll hesitantly just say that was Guthrie's aim.)

If we consider this backstory in our interpretation, we can find a really fascinating view of Jarthur's dynamic. Both Arthur and John could be Mat: a man who has seriously harmed others before and is now left broken and lost in a dangerous world. Then we can have John as Moll: trapped by the King and the Dark World and Arthur's body, powerless to take control of his own self, forced to neglect his identity/values for others' wants. And we can have Arthur as Moll: stuck in relationships/lifestyles that restrict him, autonomy stolen by social expectations and eldritch beings with far more power than him. Both of them as Moll: escaping a past of abuse, but nevertheless still finding yourself in a position of supporting men at the cost of your individuality.

A Jarthur interpretation frames Arthur and John's pasts in a concept of abuse and neglect, which is not usually (if at all) how the podcast presents their backstories. It also forces us to reconsider the full scope of their dynamic with each other. Normally the show presents Jarthur as a messy, yet overwhelmingly restorative and supportive relationship. However, when we place Jarthur into the context of Moll, we are forced to stop and acknowledge how their dynamic still harms them both: They're codependent to a self-destructive degree, protective enough to harm anyone else who gets close, so closely connected that they lose a part of who they are for the other's sake. Neither one of them exist as a wholly independent individual anymore, both of them losing pieces of their minds, emotions, and bodies to accommodate for the other's needs.

While s4-5 John and Arthur are clearly at a point in their relationship where they openly express their love and gratitude to the other for "saving" them, this allusion presents us with a perspective on their situation without the rose-colored glasses. We have the opportunity to recontextualize their dynamic and remember just how much Arthur and John have lost for the sake of each other, no matter how loving and compassionate that sacrifice might be in their eyes.

Where I Conclude the Ramble

From the moment Arthur first told this story in Part 29, its ambiguous inclusion captivated my little overthinking brain. It was incredibly fascinating to mull over Arthur's words and John's reaction, and then to dig deeper into this obscure story outside of the podcast and uncover answers!

Which is why I think I'm so disappointed with the final answer that Part 46 told us. If anyone else has looked into "Solitude" outside of the podcast before, they likely saw the same well of potential depth to work with that Harlan Guthrie clearly also found. Yet, for some reason, the podcast offers a conclusion that barely scrapes the surface of that well.

Instead of giving us new depth to the story, a Lilly interpretation really just brings up more questions for us. Did Lilly neglect herself in some way when she took care of John? Was Lilly the victim of abuse at some point in her past? What parts of Lilly's past led her to this point? There's so much more information that we need for this layered allusion to make sense, but we never get that information, so all we're left with is a weak conclusion and wasted potential.

On the other hand, a Jarthur interpretation does answer questions for us, and it adds depth to our previous understandings of their dynamic. We better understand how John and Arthur's bad decisions lead them to their darkest moments, how lost and afraid they both felt at the start of the podcast, how they found relief and protection in the other. And we consider new possibilities of how John and Arthur's past circumstances abused them, how they were trapped in cycles that stole their autonomy, how they still cannot escape these cycles and keep throwing their lives away for others.

Part 46 told us a single interpretation to have for the train story, but there is no reason we can not (nor should not) look for other interpretations— especially when the story itself shows us evidence that points to a different answer.

(final disclaimer: I absolutely do not intend any of this as any sort of attack! this is just general literary critique to try and explain why I'm a little annoyed at a single line lol)

[avvidstarion]

1, 6, 8, 12, and 17 my hater in arms 💕

The character everyone gets wrong

OKAY this is niche and OUTTA LEFT FIELD but my favorite book of ALL TIME is we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson and the HATE i see for its protagonist is ALL WRONG. It's in the same vein as like Chara undertale hate (another of my fave characters of all time) where peoples see a CHILD that clearly has a lot going on and are like. this person is irredeemably evil. no they're traumatized

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

bloodweave sorry bloodweave like. for why. why is it so popular why is it everywhere. like yeah every origin ship is valid and can be canon but like they both have much more interesting dynamics with other charactes. where is the gale/lae'zel art. hwere is the aslach (ass lack) or the aswylllach (ass will lack) art. why is bloodweave the most popular origin ship

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

okay this doesn't exactly fit bc i dont think it's super popular per se but it's on my mind today. i hate seeing fanart of kakashi and gojo together. people always twinkify them and alwasy draw them like they're about to fuck. 1) kakashi is not hot (dont get me wrong i want to fuck him but not cause he's like. physically attractive.) 2) they are not the same person 3) gojo will never be kakashi gojo wishes he was kakashi 4) kakashi would kill that man

OH OH ALSO THAT REMINDS ME I'LL THROW THIS IN HERE TOO. i don't like kakashi/iruka i think it's unfounded. they hardly ever talk. yeah they both love naruto but like can just be his mentor figures separately they don't have to be married. kakashi is married to guy like they are MARRIED. i feel like kakashi/guy would be way more popular if guy was a prettyboy twink (like iruka)

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

i wanna say wyll but like that shit actually makes me fucking angry and not in a silly haha way so i am going to instead say sera dragonage. now. i know there are a lot of sera dragonage haters out there and there are some things about her that i do not like. however i overall love her and i think she is a tragic case of bad writing and wasted potential. why did they have a straight white guy write a lesbian whose character arc revolves around internalized racism. why does the game literally talk shit about her during her romance arc. literally one of her romance quests is "you love sera and wanna get her something to show her how much you care. go ask your friends for gift advice" and EVERY SINGLE COMPANION OR ADVISOR IS JUST LIKE. I HATE SERA SHES SO ANNOYING WHY ARE YOU DATING HER. UGH. ALSO. the game makes you be so mean to her!! so many times the only dialogue options with her are like "stop talking weird i dont understand you'". also the fact that YOU CAN LITERALLY KICK HER OUT AT ANY TIME??? LIKE NO MATTER WHAT THERE IS ALWAYS A DIALOGUE BUTTON TO KICK HER OUT?? here are reasons why you should like sera:

she is fun trickster! solas fucking wishes he was her.

her subclass is just super fun!! throw jars of bees and fire and shit at your enemies!

she is so genuine and cares so much about what she believes in. i wish that was explored more but as i have said the game literally hates her so.

she loves you so much!!!! she marries you!!!!!!!!!

i actualy really like her voice and the way she talks. shes just fun!

she's autistic <3

17. there should be more types of this fic/art

more people should be drawing gale and halsin and karlach fat, for one. also everyone else in the party but like especially those three. larian the fact that you have zero fat people in your game sucks supremely and you should feel bad about it.

actually draw more characters as fat anyway.

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 334

John 1:4

WHERE WE DRAW LINES 16 – TRAIL BLAZERS 2

Luk 6:22 "People will hate you because you belong to the Son of Man. THEY WILL MAKE YOU LEAVE THEIR GROUP. They will insult you. They will think it is wrong even to say your name. When these things happen, know that great blessings belong to you. ERV

Beloved, it would be conflicting and unfair to leave this matter at the point of “Daniel’s excellent spirit”. Some persons have indeed received the capacity to do exceptional things above others.

Mat 25:15 Before he left on his journey, he entrusted a bag of five thousand gold coins to one of his servants, to another a bag of two thousand gold coins, and to the third a bag of one thousand gold coins, EACH ACCORDING TO HIS ABILITY TO MANAGE. TPT

So, the word never said that those who have more ability than others will stand out and be commended as the trailblazers for God.

It’s only saying: if you are given 1 Talent, and you produce another 1 Talent, you have produced 100% and you have done better than the one who got 5 Talents but produced only 2 more, which makes his efforts 40% only.

You exceed him by far.

Mat 25:24-25 And he who had had the one talent came and said, Lord, I had knowledge that you are a hard man, getting in grain where you have not put seed, and making profits for which you have done no work: And I was in fear, and went away, AND PUT YOUR TALENT IN THE EARTH: here is what is yours. BBE

But now, the man who had 1 talent went and buried it because he claimed he was afraid that if he traded and lost, he would be in trouble.

He is extremely lazy and a liar. You know how I know?

You see, if he was indeed afraid of Jesus, should he be bold to say the things he said about Jesus, right in front of Him?

That’s what draws the line folks.

Mat 25:26-27 But his master answered, ‘EVIL AND LAZY SLAVE! So you knew that I harvest where I didn’t sow and gather where I didn’t scatter? Then you should have deposited my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received my money back with interest! NET

Jesus was saying: “if indeed you were afraid of me, you should have ensured that I make gains at all cost, even if you could do nothing by yourself, invest the money with others who were ready”.

Mat 25:28-30 Then the master said, "NOW YOUR MONEY WILL BE TAKEN AWAY AND GIVEN TO THE SERVANT WITH TEN THOUSAND COINS! Everyone who has something will be given more, and they will have more than enough. But everything will be taken from those who don't have anything. YOU ARE A WORTHLESS SERVANT, and you will be thrown out into the dark where people will cry and grit their teeth in pain." CEV

That’s how many Christians, instead of rising and maximizing the potentials in them, will bury all their Talents and be rehearsing the senseless story they will tell Jesus then.

They thence end up becoming jealous of others and blacklisting them. They will be thrown far away from the serious.

Meanwhile, there is an ill-motivated reason why some people work really hard in a system.

Ecc 4:4 Then I thought, "Why do people work so hard?" I SAW PEOPLE TRY TO SUCCEED AND BE BETTER THAN OTHER PEOPLE. THEY DO THIS BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS. They don't want other people to have more than they have. This is senseless. It is like trying to catch the wind. ERV

Even in Church, there are many who labour very hard, just because they are jealous and trying to beat somebody else and get better appraisal or promotion, above that person.

Php 1:15 Of course some of them PREACH CHRIST BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS And Quarrelsome, But Others From Genuine Good Will. GNB

Ill motives never blaze any trails for God. It’s plain labour for the winds; such work is wasted.

1Co 3:13 each builder’s work will be plainly seen, for the Day will make it clear, because IT WILL BE REVEALED BY FIRE. AND THE FIRE WILL TEST WHAT KIND OF WORK EACH HAS DONE. NET

We can all indeed learn from each other; follow the examples of those who do excellently, but only with a heart of love for the growth of God’s body, not out of any sense of competition.

Heb 6:12 So DON’T ALLOW YOUR HEARTS TO GROW DULL OR LOSE YOUR ENTHUSIASM, BUT FOLLOW THE EXAMPLE OF THOSE WHO FULLY RECEIVED WHAT GOD HAS PROMISED because of their strong faith and patient endurance. TPT

The principal rule really is not to follow their “style” or do exactly what they do. Just encourage yourself by their dedication but focus on God’s purpose and will for you in particular.

Whatever your own calling, face it but with the Christian Character and tenacity you emulate from others.

2Co 12:12 WHILE I WAS AMONG YOU I PATIENTLY DID THE SIGNS, WONDERS, AND MIRACLES WHICH PROVE THAT I'M AN APOSTLE. GW

There are markings that prove every man’s purpose; ensure that people see signs of your own, through diligence and deliberate commitment. Be sure that people are permitted to test you.

Rev 2:2 I know everything you have done, INCLUDING YOUR HARD WORK AND HOW YOU HAVE ENDURED. I know you won't put up with anyone who is evil. WHEN SOME PEOPLE PRETENDED TO BE APOSTLES, YOU TESTED THEM AND FOUND OUT THAT THEY WERE LIARS. CEV

I told you before: hard-workers expose lazy and fake people. There will always be somebody who can confirm your authenticity and/or efficiency.

You will have to sit up and get serious, beloved.

Psa 50:5-6 He says, "GATHER MY FAITHFUL PEOPLE TO ME, THOSE WHO MADE A COVENANT WITH ME BY OFFERING A SACRIFICE." The heavens proclaim that GOD IS RIGHTEOUS, THAT HE HIMSELF IS JUDGE. GNB

If a man has laboured sacrificially to see God’s work progress, he will get special recognition.

If you haven’t, don’t ever expect God to place you and such persons on the same level.

He is a God of Justice.

I pray that God will find all our labours worthy of appraisal in excellence, in Jesus name.

Join us on Monday for more digging into scriptures and peruse of this intriguing subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, March 31, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[bonny-kookoo]

Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

[beevean]

I don't think I've ever seen anyone say that she didn't know any better

That she's misunderstood, yes :)

Because the general opinion is that she meant well and she wasn't evil and look she really cared about Hector and wellllll why do you stan Dracula and Isaac but not her? Sexist much? (I hate them too dw lol)

Bonus if they straight up say that Hector deserved to be raped into slavery because something something poetic cinema :) <- i am going to beat people to death with a cactus

(or even better when the reject that what Lenore did to him was rape, because "he consented". you are the kind of person who would insist that marital rape doesn't exist)

I can't stop thinking about the potential of the setup they had by S4. Something about selfish kindness is so interesting to me. Living in a gilded cage, being forced to be grateful for having the basic crumbs of decency, trading your dignity for your safety... yes, the show could have had a serious discussion about the morality, or lack of, of Lenore, who only helped Hector because she saw a cute puppy (and a dildo) in him. Sure, she doesn't seem to be interested in mass slaughter like Dracula, or outright mass slavery like Carmilla, but her evil is so viscerally personal, and realistic in a way. It could have been used to talk about the intricacies of abuse, how they're not 100% monsters but that 1% of kindness only fucks you over because now you can't hate them completely but it has to get to a point where you accept that you deserve better than 1%.

nah. that would have taken time away from the dick jokes ig :V

I really, really hate how unaffected Hector is in S4. He's just there to be #sassy and suddenly wanting to "protect" Lenore without knowing why. His voice betrays no emotions in any scene, from him casually talking about the ring that ties him to Lenore and was put there with such cruelty, to him only wanting to stay with her in life. And since we're not privy to his mental process (assuming he still has one by this point), the only conclusion I can draw is that Hector genuinely thinks Lenore did him good and cares about him, despite her gloating that he's a good fuck to her sisters some weeks prior.

anyway. wasted potential. like everything in NFCV. they should have been parallels and Hector should have seen through her that his mentality was warped and wrong. but eh.

also dracula is a more interesting "kind abuser" to Hector and Isaac to me and i love that no one justifies him because he's very obviously a bastard :)

Every time someone says/implies that Lenore was just misunderstood or that she didn’t know any better my soul gets kicked like a puppy in the rain

[captainbobbin]

Ask game, TerraIsa or XemSai/XemIsa?

Thats a tough question. 

(long answer under the readmore :p)

The way I see it, they're both very similar - its a venn diagram of sorts, not just because Isa/Saix is in the centre. And I don't think I can pick just one over the other, because they're kind of rooted into one another.

For me, if you're doing moonrocks (Terra x Isa) stuff and doing it with some attachment to canon (as in, it isn't an au that's really out there) realistically there should be some element of XemSai in there somewhere. For Terra and Isa to connect in a (semi)canon way, I think there's gotta be some form of acknowledgement of 'oh yeah, Terra and Xemnas overlap one another in some ways, and Saix was connected to one and now potentially the other'.

I've shipped XemSai since KH2 came out;;; I was always super super into it. But then DDD happened, and there was the big Xehanort/possession reveal, and it kind of made me look at the whole relationship like 'Oh, this is for sure onesided. Like there is a powerplay going on here that is way deeper than a simple boss/employee' kind of thing.

I still love XemSai - as I hope you can all tell by the things I draw and write ahahah but I see it as a pairing as something kind of indulgent, physical and ultimately somewhat unhealthy. Neither of them are people, neither of them canonically get an eventual happy ending with the other, neither of them have real emotions. So as a relationship it's kind of parasocial - there's a sense of use, of gain, of just getting by and having the other near as a means of temporary comfort. Sure, in time they could have grown hearts and learned to love, but a large aspect of both characters is tragedy. Saix has been screwed over time and time again and is continuously at a loss, always letting aspects of himself go to waste and be ruined by others. Xemnas wants to be many things, wants to understand the heart, wants to figure things out and remember what love is like - but he can't. The two of them together don't make a whole - its all just a temporary fix that helps them forget the worst of it. Thats not even getting into the fact that Saix was actively trying to take the Org down from within.

I'm currently writing a piece which kind of looks at the relationship under the lens of 'what is real and what is fake anymore? How much of this is an act, and at what point did I just begin to go along with things? Why does it not bother me that my plans have changed, and now I see myself reluctant to let this person go?' and I think that is something I really like about XemSai. The basis of it all is just. Surviving. Doing what you have to. Seeking out what you can when you have (and are) nothing. It isn't something that starts off nor ends nicely, in a way. Neither of them are people. Neither of them are good.

(In general, I just love writing XemSai stuff where there is an undertone of ‘oh this will not end well, but they just can’t help themselves. They are all they've got.’)

Terra and Isa, meanwhile, have room to grow. After so long of being separated into parts of themselves they're people again, able to reflect on mistakes and learn, form bonds that are actually real. They have flaws and may slip up from time to time, may need to reassess who they are as people, but now it is something genuine and without a sense of dread and distrust hanging over them. They both share a lot of attributes and can see themselves in the other - and the bond they have can be one that is realistic, organic, and healthy. Not just healthy - but healing. They can lean on one another without fear, face aspects of themselves they were unsure about, look at internal self-issues knowing that there is someone nearby that gets it. Amongst all the pain and darkness and past cruelty and possession between them, there is more of a sense of innocence to it all - they're both picking up pieces of themselves and trying to find how it all fits together, working out how to go forward, figuring out how their hearts have brushed against each other in the past.

That, and its post 3 - after reconsiling, after moving on a little, after having others nearby. They have people around them that want the best for them. The situation has changed and so have they. All around, things have improved and now they can improve themselves. Together, hopefully.

I think moonrocks has a more sweet sentimentality and an aspect of continuous improvement and gentleness where XemSai's flavor is darker, richer, and laced with an undertone of regret. I've joked before that Moonrocks is just XemSai with extra steps but there is far more to it than that. Terra is such a wonderful character that has so much more to him than is on the surface, and the separation of Saix and Isa is something I really enjoy delving into.

I love both and am gonna be continuing to make content about both :)

lmao sorry for the essay. tl;dr - both very very good for similar but different reasons and my life revolves around them both hahahha

(Obligatory link to my written work where I channel these kind of vibes teehee :p)

[vicious-vixxxen]

Tenya Iida X Male Reader: 7 Minutes in Heaven

Been working on this for a minute, thought it was about time I showed this boy some love! Hope you guys enjoy :3  ((Totally SFW, but things do get a wee bit steamy. Enjoy ;3))

“Unbelievable! The level of unprofessionalism from class 1A no less! This is a highly inappropriate way to be spending our free time! It should be spent honing our abilities to their greatest potential, and encouraging each other to bl-“  “Iida...Iida please for the love of god /stop/.” Snatching one of the other boys chopping hands by the wrist, your free hand settled on Iida’s chest to pat gently. “For someone who didn’t put up much of a fight getting tossed in here, you sure won’t shut up about it.” You mused, smirk evident in your tone

Despite the closet being too dark to tell; the only light the thin, dim strips around the doorframe- one of which caught the corner of Tenya’s glasses, and reflected back on the boys flushed cheek. Whether they were like that because of the intensity of his ramblings, or the situation at hand, was still yet to be determined.  “I beg your pardon?” Iida nearly gasped, and you snorted despite yourself. Keeping your hold on the larger boys wrist firm, even as he tried to continue his chopping motion out of it. “I assumed my protests would be considered before they’d have a chance to get us in here, and despite our combined abilities to escape, the rules of the game are very clear and seeing as how we’re here now I don’t see the point in not participating. As class 1A’s representative it’s imperative I encourage the other students to socialize and become a more cohesive unit. Even if it means doing ridiculous things like this, DESPITE protest.”

You’d almost, /almost/ landed on Kaminari. Who had you hurt in a past life to deserve this?

“So you’re unwilling to participate because you’re too busy scolding the other participants for wanting to participate. In a game in which you deem inappropriate, but will still abide by it’s rules. While the same time doing anything but. Did I get that right?” You asked, even unsure yourself.

“Well, I-“ “Is it cuz I’m a dude?” You asked suddenly, genuinely curious. Tenya balked. “O-of course not!” No further elaboration. You smiled. Now you were getting somewhere.

“Then I believe we have about five more minutes for you to get with the program Iida.” Finally letting his wrist go, you brought your hand down towards your face. Checking the watch you didn’t have intently, hoping he could see, for effect if anything, before bringing your hand down to rest on Iida’s hip gently. Snickering at how stiff his stance was, as he tensed impossibly tighter. “It’s just kissing,” You reminded him quietly, squinting in the dark to catch the blush high on his cheeks deepen. Iida was significantly taller than you, but he was acutely conscious of the fact. Shifting his knees, and hunching over slightly to bring himself in closer. More on reflex than anything. Until now he hadn’t quite realized he was primed for the taking, so to speak, and attempted to shift back, but finding the wall just as unyielding to his back as it had been when you’d entered together. A sweat broke out across his forehead, and Tenya began to take the most soft, shallow breaths of his entire life. “You have kissed someone before...haven’t you Iida?” You asked, usual playfulness gone, as you slowly started to piece together the sudden intensity behind Tenya’s protests of the game from the very beginning.  “Kissing...not that it is any of your business, I was under the impression was to be saved for someone you cared a great deal about. Someone special. Not a fellow classmate in a musty closet in our dorms!” Iida hissed, but there was no real heat behind it. Mostly..nerves. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You asked, curious as to the others mind. Iida may not have cracked your top three since arriving at UA, friend wise, but he was a good guy, with a heart of gold, and a powerful personality. If not always the most easily digested. Point is, he was good. And sweet. And handsome. And you, as were your fellow classmates when the idea of drawing names for 7 minutes in heaven arose, were really in the mood to kiss /someone/. And Tenya made a good partner If he’d just be a little quieter. That’s all. “Well yes, but-“  “And you care about me?” You interrupted, smiling at the grunt of frustration the taller boy let out. A puff of hot breath ghosting across your cheeks from above, sending goosebumps down the back of your neck. Minty. And warm. Perfect, actually.  “Of course! But that’s hardly-“ “So what’s the deal? Loosen your tie a bit and just kiss me, jet boy. Plenty of time in the future to give the most special kisses to the most special people. Right now...how about starting with giving me just one?”

Your voice was quiet as you slid your hand up from Iida’s waist to his chest to join your other, a barely whispered ‘please’ in the dark. Iida stared down at you, his own hands twitching, before they came up to meet yours. He’d had every intention of removing them, setting them back at your own sides, but when you’d gripped his shirt, and leaned up on your toes to brush your nose along his jaw, he’d frozen. Gripping your wrists tightly, just hanging on really. “Mm...you smell nice.” Leave it to Tenya to casually wear the most expensive, mouth watering cologne to a dorm sleepover. Who was he, a Giorgio Armani sponsor! Sheesh.  “...thank you,” Tenya gasped finally, as you nipped at his chin- barking out a laugh, so loose and carefree, Tenya couldn’t help the way his shoulders dropped minutely in response. Maybe...maybe.

“Alright then.” Iida agreed. Stealing himself for the inevitable, though he’d be lying if he said the beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead weren’t because of how soft the plushness of your lips felt trailing up towards his own bitten ones. He’d never quite considered something like this happening to him, at school of all places. Tenya had a firm idea of what he’d come to UA to do, how he’d accomplish it, and how he’d feel after achieving all his goals. Going pro. There really was no time for any straying from that.  Bakugou, for instance, for all the glaring faults Tenya found in his personality, was admirable in that at least he had a similar mindset, albeit a more extremist one...goal oriented to the max. And Tenya did admire it, strived for something similar. He’d never quite struck gold when it came to friends before UA, maybe because they’d never quite understood why he worked so hard to get to the next step, and the next step. But here, his classmates understood the importance of their classes. Their position. ...well, most of them did. And yet here he was now, backed into a literal corner, clammy hands holding tight to y/n’s wrists as the smaller boy continued to whisper random nonsense against Tenya’s chin- his cheek. All because he wanted to appeal more to his peers. Figures. Not that he was complaining. Not anymore, at least. “Ready?” You asked, nerves nearly getting the best of you now too as you focused in on the glint of light in Iida’s glasses again- frowning briefly, and nudging the boys chin with yours to get him to move just enough for the light to reflect in the deep pool of blue that was his eye. Sparkling, and searching. You’d expect nothing less from the class rep. God, he was handsome.. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Tenya whispered, meaning for it to come out more sure, and failing miserably. You were already keyed up enough to be crowned the king of sexual frustration, so you wasted no time in letting out a soft ‘hm’ of confirmation, before leaning in and sealing your lips fully over Iida’s. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined just how plush his lips would actually feel. Sure it was something you’d fantasized about with /most/ of the guys in class, but Iida especially. He had great lips. And fuck, they felt nice against yours. Not too soft, not too rough. Plush, like a pillow. Fuck, you wanted to bite them. To tug on his lower lip till he mewled into your mouth. Shit.

Moving your hands tentatively at first, as they were still being held firm by Iida. you slid them up and over his shoulders, hesitating briefly before allowing them to slide further up to cup the boy on either side of his neck. Squeezing there briefly as you pulled away.  “This okay?” You asked, thumbs brushing over Iida’s jaw, words whispered against his lips, you were still they close. “...y-yes, yes that’s alright.” He was too quiet to be sure, but something told you Iida was coming undone at a rapid pace.  “Would another be alright then? We don’t have to, I don’t want you to-mph!-“ and Iida’s lips were back on yours. More insistent, more sure. Firm and soft and you moaned, quietly, still conscious of your classmates on the other side of the door, but just barely.  “Sorry...sorry, I...I’m so sorry, y/n,” Iida huffed, grip just as tight on your wrists as before as he broke away suddenly, guilt wracking his system immediately as he intended to pull away, because what the hell was that?! He’d just-

“No, Iida, please...come on, don’t do me like that, I want it. More...come on,” you pleaded, breathless and giddy at how he’d taken control. On the one hand, of course he would. But on the other, this was /kissing/, and it was /Iida/. What even? Iida’s lips parted in a soft ‘o’, body flushing with heat at how your pleas seemed to effect him. “Okay.” Clearing his throat, his words coming out too husky for his own liking, Iida finally, FINALLY, moved his own hands. Thinking suddenly of movies, and how people kissed there. He could do that. Iida’s hands were on your hips then, gentle, yet sure. Cupping there, finding his footing. Iida finally seemed comfortable leaving one against your hip, the other flat against the small of your back to bring you in close. Whoa. Hadhis hands always felt so big?

Shit.

“Move your lips how I move mine,” you instructed, breath ghosting the shell of Iida’s ear, and you bit your lip gently when Iida nodded. Eager. Fuck.  And you were kissing again. More urgent this time, a few presses of lips, before you began to move. The quiet of the closet being broken by the rustling of your clothes, the slick sound of your lips, and both of your needy breaths. Iida was a skilled learner, and it was almost scary how that transferred over to kissing. Pausing when you move your lips against his in a certain way. Savoring it, before applying it back to you. “It’s concerning how good you are at this,” you laughed softly against his lips, Iida rewarding you with a little breath of a huff in return as his grip on your hip tightened, and he sealed your lips once again. Urgent. Needy.

You could relate. Soon enough you found one arm curled around Iida’s neck, your other hand holding firm to the crop of hair on his head as he kissed you. A shift in stance caused his hand to drop to the outside of your thigh, and on instinct, you’d lifted your leg to Iida’s hip,

Iida hadn’t even hesitated to grip your thigh and hike your leg up higher, bringing your middles closer together, and what? What the fuck? Since when did he know how to do that?! “Shit,” you hissed, overwhelmed by how turned on you were. It was embarrassing, but so good.

“Language,” Iida whispered, not missing a beat, pushing his head up into your hand briefly, encouraging, before kissing you /again/.

Jesus, he was good. It was kind of ridiculous how so. “Ah,” you cried before you could stop yourself, when Iida’s grip on your thigh shifted and tightened, palm held firm over the sensitive underside, and you had to stop. Lips sliding from Iida’s, along his cheek, and down into the crook is his neck. “Are...are you alright?” Iida panted, trying to pull back to look at you- as best he could in the dark- but you held tight to his hair, keeping him in place, as you caught your breath. ‘Look at me’ you thought, nodding your head against Iida’s shoulder, ‘coming apart like a fucking virgin!’ Which, you were...kind of, the specifics of previous encounters were still vaguely juvenile enough for you not to count them

“Just...,” pausing, you took a breath. Blowing it out through your nose, and closing your eyes as you began to litter Iida’s neck with kisses. “-sensitive, down there, is all. But it’s good. Very good.”

Iida was too quiet, tense all of the sudden for an entirely different reason, and you were all too aware of where his brain was probably going. “My /thigh/, Iida, your holding my thigh like you’re about to pitch a softball, and it feels really nice- just caught me off guard, is all.”

Patting him on the head, you evened out your breathing finally, just being for a few long moments, as Iida stood still. “...this is much more-ah...much more than I’d imagine it being.” Iida spoke softly, fingers playing nervously against the back of your thigh. “How incredibly vague,” you teased, giggling quietly, before the both of you were a fit of laughter. Iida’s deep, boisterous sound like music to your ears. Had he ever laughed like that in front of you before?

You vowed to make it happen more often, in any case. “You know what I mean,” he added finally, allowing your leg to slip from his grasp, bringing both hands back to your hips to squeeze gently. Tentatively. Your breath faltered briefly, imagining suddenly getting to feel this again. Whenever you wanted. What an idea. Your face was too hot then, even more so than before, and you hoped Iida couldn’t sense it as you pressed even deeper into his neck. Scratching idly through his hair, fingers skirting across the seam of his undercut.  “If you applied this kind of enthusiasm into your studies, you wouldn’t be scrambling to study with Kaminari last minute, you know.” Iida added simply.  “Excuse you?!” You shouted, no heat behind it as you reeled back, staring at the general area of Iida’s head in faux shock.

“If Midoriya and Uraraka didn’t steal you away all the time, /maybe/ I’d have asked you to study with me at some point. Once you and Yaomomo are busy the pickings are slim, you know. Kiri asked me to join he and Bakugou once...but hard pass, as I don’t particularly like being slammed over the head by our textbooks.” Iida stilled briefly, before sighing and nodding his head dejectedly.  “His methods are almost cruel, yet his results are unquestionable. Kirishima has been doing much better lately. At the cost of his physical and mental health though, which in the long run could have some serious long lasting effects.”

“Oh my mental health is constantly on the verge anyways, so that would be fine.” You joked, snickering as you were pulled back rather harshly, for Iida to get a good look at you no doubt.

Good luck with that in the dark, pal, you thought.  “Kidding, kidding. Kind of. Anyways, point is, if you’d make yourself more available to other students, maybe I’d pick your brain about the homework sometime.”

“I...suppose I have grown comfortable with my own study group- and as class rep it’s imperative I take initiative to make sure each one of us is reaching their full potential, whether it be studying, or during combat.” Iida mumbled. If his hands hadn’t been firm on your hips, you swore they’d be chopping the air around your head. “I don’t need as much oversee as Kaminari. I apply myself when it counts, so if you could spare even an hour or two on the weekend to answer some of my more pressing questions it would be a big help,” you explained, awkwardly untangling yourself from Iida as you cleared your throat. The mood not entirely broken, but you couldn’t very well sit in here and make out with Iida all night.

 Unfortunately. “Of course! Your room is right down the hall from mine after all, it’ll be easy to navigate and configure the perfect time to study. We-“ he paused, hands up in the air somewhere, you could hear the whooshing. “I don’t care much for movies, and the others will be thoroughly entertained enough with this game after us anyhow, if you’d like to go back to my room and set up a study plan?” He offered, and you couldn’t help the way your heart thumped madly once more at the offer. They’d decided on one of your favorite movies tonight, and you’d promised Kami a running commentary.

Oh well, “Let me fix your hair, and you’ve got a deal. Last thing you need is everyone thinking I defiled you in here.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, and face the screen straight up, you unlocked it- the bright light from the screen illuminating the closet just enough to see. Snorting, you took in Iida’s fluffed up hair, sticking up at odd angles, vaguely reminiscent of Midoriya’s.

“A willing defilement , I suppose, but a defilement nonetheless if we’re being technical,” Iida supplied quietly, as you fussed over his hair. “Willing indeed, you lug. Who would have guessed the class rep would get so /handsy/.” You teased, smiling brightly at the wide eyed expression Iida supplied in return. “And don’t apologize, I...I haven’t kissed many people, but that was definitely the best kiss of my entire life. Something to be proud of. I guess..” You tried to sound nonplussed, but given the new light, it wasn’t hard for Iida to see your blush. “I’ve never kissed anyone, but I can’t imagine it gets better than that,” Iida offered quietly, blush high on his cheeks to match yours.

You both paused, Iida staring down at you, you up at him. Your hands back on either side of his neck, hair as good as it was going to get. ‘Maybe we could do it again sometime’ the little voice in your mind screamed, but the last thing you wanted to do was push Iida. This was just a one time thing. But hey, maybe it meant being closer friends...which was even better, if you were honest with yourself. “We should uh...get going. Out there. The sooner we retreat back to your room, the better. They’ll be hounding as soon as he step out.” Sliding your hands down Iida’s broad chest, you patted twice there just for effect, before snatching up your phone. Steeling yourself for the hoots and hollers, and nagging questions everyone before you had endured. An eye roll all prepped as you stepped out of the closet, missing the way Iida stared after you, if only briefly. Brushing off the wish of you, with your loud personality, and lack of filter, to offer up more of something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. He couldn’t find the words. He’d hoped you could. Or would. But that was alright. Late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, and the lingering scent of your own cologne faded from Iida’s room, he’d still have the memory of your lips on his. Your voice, soft and needy in his ear. Your thigh heavy, and hot in his palm.  Yeah...that would do. For now, at least.

[artianaiolanthe]

TLDR: I don’t like Billy Hargrove as portrayed by the fandom at large and said portrayal only makes me actively hate his character when on further reflection my biggest issue with him is wasted potential

I don’t hate Billy Hargrove as a character. 

I don’t believe he was irredeemable, I don’t believe he’s the worst/most evil person on the show, I don’t believe he deserved to die. Looking only at what is to be seen from the source material, I can actually say Billy was an interesting character with potential for development. At some point I could have said I was excited to see what would be done with him.

But when I say I hate Billy, I mean I hate what the fandom has done to him. I hate the shipping object who’s there because y’all want to shove Steve into a relationship with another “attractive” boy, I hate the pity sink that has no responsibility for any of his wrongs because of his abuse, I hate the woobified little meow meow I see time and time again that the stans can’t seem to separate from what was portrayed on screen and I hate Olympic level mental gymnastics people twist themselves into because they can’t acknowledge his flaws.

Billy doesn’t HAVE to be a good person, you know? You can like him warts and all. It doesn’t make you a bad person to like a shitty character, asshole characters can be fun and entertaining. David from Lost Boys has the same energy as Billy (minus my biggest criticism) and I adore him. Some of my favourite American Horror Story characters are utter abominations of human beings.Toffee from Star Vs. is probably the show’s best character. The only Silent Hill protagonist who’s got an argument for being a good person is Harry and he’s one of my least favourites. I’ll always love and miss Kali. It’s kind of sad if the only way you can enjoy a character is to ignore or absolve them of wrongdoings, it’s part of who they are, it’s what makes them unique.

And ignoring these flaws that are fundamentally how they are shown to interact with the rest of the cast, in Billy’s case especially, is infuriating. You can’t look at Billy’s behaviour towards Lucas and say he isn’t racist; you can’t look at how he terrorized Max and say he never abused her, you can’t act like everything he’s done has been a silly little misunderstanding and isn’t seriously fucked up! I know it’s fandom, you want to draw and gif and write fic, I’m not saying to like Billy you have to have an itemized list of his sins and swear you do not agree with him, but the bare fucking minimum you need to do is acknowledge his wrongs and not argue with anyone about the fact that they happened.

What, do you write Billy as though he’s never done any of the things he’s called out for? That’s how you write him, not how the show portrays him. You can write and hc to your heart’s content any au you like but don’t treat it like canon, or like it should be the universal view of him.

And for the love of god if you really feel the need to defend him, stop and think of why. Why can’t he be racist or abusive? Why do you have to insist he’s not what he so clearly is. Goody Proctor isn’t going to point you out at the Black Sabbath for liking a fictional character, why can’t it be and instead of but or because? Billy can feel protective of Max and be abusive of her in the process, Billy can be a victim and perpetuate the abuse he suffers, most of all Billy can be deserving of sympathy AND have racist behaviours to unlearn. 

But do you want to have to reckon with that? Do you really feel like the only way you can like Billy is to ignore these very integral parts of him and completely rewrite his history? Or do you genuinely not see anything wrong with his behaviour? Cause if so, I wanna know what bandersnatch bullshit your netflix pulled to let you watch a different show. I hope you can bite your tongue whenever Billy comes up because you clearly aren’t acknowledging what everyone else is and you shouldn’t have a place in the argument if you’re going to ignore the facts. 

Again, I like Billy’s character as a concept. It would have been very interesting if the plot we got included some self reflection, some development, not a 180 into a saint but at least a complex Moral Greyness that would have made him an interesting part of the cast. I can see that his reaction to abuse was very different from Jonathan and Will’s and it should have made for a fascinating parallel. I don’t hate Billy because of the way his abuse has caused him to lash out.

I hate Billy because he chose to lash out in a racist manner and because he lashed out at his younger stepsister in a way where she was clearly scared of him in season two. I hate him because he, like much of Stranger Things, is a well of wasted potential. 

And most of all, I hate him because many of his fandom refuses to acknowledge his flaws and wants to pretend he’s not responsible for his bigotry and hatred.

Billy was never going to be the next Zuko or Steve’s soulmate. He is a victim and a tragic one of circumstances beyond his control. But he’s also an abusive and racist bully and it’s not exaggerating or reductive to say that. It’s just a facet of who he is in the grand scheme of hurt people hurting other people. Billy chose to punch down and in show will never have a chance to atone for it, and while a redemption fic would be nice to read I don’t think I could bring myself to because I’ve only been shown that people only care about the good parts of redemption (the rewards and the acceptance) and couldn’t care less about the work and the consequences. The Duffers may have killed Billy off in an unsatisfying and underwhelming manner, but in my eyes Billy never had a chance to thrive as a character because the majority of the fandom tried so hard to white out his flaws. In the show he’s a disappointment and in fandom for me he only inspires vitriol. Everything about Fandom Billy is a hollow vessel of fool’s gold and I fucking hate everything about it.

[ziggy-solarecreator]

ima add some snippets from the discord convo we all had over this post, some from me, some from brokensouvenir, some from x-x-kroww: -The writers throwing a hissy fit over people reacting to their work in a way they don’t personally endorse or approve of is, quite frankly, silly. You can’t control what people think of something or how they relate to, and trying to do so is fruitless and frustrating for everyone involved. Changing the way they wrote Dukat for the simple reason that they didn’t like people liking the villain character is petty and unprofessional at best, and it feels retaliatory towards fans, particularly women, which is I think the point brokensouvenir was trying to make above, especially given the wider context of how female fans of the series were treated at that time.- -Not saying it didn’t happen, but I personally have encountered vanishingly few people who openly say Dukat did nothing wrong, that he was justified, etc. However, I have encountered far more fans who have been harassed or subject to other vitriol for liking the character. It would be nice if fandom at large could stop moralizing the types of media people enjoy. What you watch, draw, write, etc has zero bearing on your own personal morality or beliefs, and liking a villain character does not mean you endorse their actions. And that really should go without saying, because assuming otherwise is both ridiculous and puritanical.- -ira didn't like that people didn't see dukat as unequivocally a villain, and he has admitted to his disdain for how much the (largely female) fanbase liked dukat. opinions on the writing of dukat aside, the fact that he deliberately made changes to the story based on his personal dislike of the fan response (which, again, he has openly admitted to) is something i see as... petty, at best.

and that choice feels antithetical to the complex story they were trying to tell with the rest of ds9-

-the writers had big plans for dukat, originally. the redemption arc that damar goes through in season 6 and 7? that was originally slated for dukat.

and those plans were changed explicitly because of ira's dislike of the fan response to dukat.- -this is why the introduction of the pah-wraith cult and all the crap about ultimate good vs. evil in the form of the prophets vs. pah-wraith conflict feels so out of left field. because it was. many a fan has wondered why dukat seemed to radically go off the deep end in 'waltz' and take a dive straight into mustache-twirling villainy when he had previously shown the capacity for great complexity, being capable of doing good and bad for complicated reasons. and all that got thrown out the window in the later seasons because ira explicitly wanted to flatten his characters into distinct good and evil categories, to 'correct' the fans-

-the decision to take a hard left into dukat being a villainous caricature was disappointing not because dukat fans thought dukat was right or any other such nonsense, but because up until that point, the character had walked a compelling tightrope with his loyalties and actions. he had the capacity for both cruelty and compassion, manipulation and genuine emotion, and they utterly wasted that potential. the amazing work the writers did with creating that nuance that made the show so compelling in earlier seasons was completely discarded in s6 and 7, which is why they are so frustrating to watch- -what i resent most about this is the idea that ira thought he needed to moralize to the fanbase, who he saw as apparently incapable of separating their enthusiasm for a character from endorsement of said character's actions. as though star trek hasn't dealt with complex and morally gray concepts literally since its inception.- -and i don't say this just because i'm a dukat fan. which i am, and i make no apologies for that. i say this because dukat's character was an integral part of the nuance that made the show compelling, despite only being a supporting character, and taking that away actively sabotaged the direction of the show from a character standpoint. season 6-7 takes character steps that simply don't make sense, and it's not just dukat. the whole julian/ezri relationship is a great example, and after julian had spent the last five seasons going from pining over wanting to fuck jadzia to developing a genuine and mutually respectful friendship with her.

and ultimately, it made the ending of the show a disappointing, hamfisted metaphor for 'hurr durr good triumph over evil.' how in the world did we get there, starting from a series that had taken on extremely difficult and nuanced subjects like the lasting impact of colonialism on individuals and their society, the consequences of atrocities committed against a people (and what that means for the perpetrators of those atrocities), as well as trauma, indoctrination, and racial/cultural identity?-

-it felt like a waste to throw all that away because ira didn't like that fans didn't see dukat as an irredeemable monster. and i think to say, overtly or otherwise, that people who have done awful things are inevitably and irrevocably condemned is antithetical to ds9's overall message, and to the ethos of star trek itself.-

-and i don't think he was intentional about pissing anyone off. the reason i express disdain for him is not because of the creative choices he made with the show, even though i dislike those choices. the reason for my disdain for him is that, external to the show itself, he has expressed derision towards fans of dukat and stated that he thinks of them as deviant, brainwashed, or both. which to me smacks of paternalistic misogyny, and i dislike seeing him shitting on the very fans who supported the show's success and its enduring legacy.- -behr actual said this. he actually compared dukat fans to the type of women who wrote to serial killers and as recently as a year ago, on the 7th rule, he was calling us 'strange' and other terms. his opinion of dukat fans, especially women fans, was literally misogynistic. in his own words. we're not just interpreting things here. and it's not based on fanfic. this isn't coming from a place of personal attack or questioning his motives. these are things he has said, on record, for 30 years.- -and when he literally rewrote and retconned a compelling, multi-dimensional character to MAKE him a one dimensional evil villain, then, yeah, i'm going to bitch about it. just because he had a right to do it doesn't make it right, especially when the REASON he did it was literally because he didn't like women thinking dukat was sexy because he was a bad guy.-

i have very strong feelings about this topic and will continue ranting about it for as long as i live.

hot take

i’m glad garashir wasn’t (overtly) canon because i (retroactively) don’t trust the production team/writers room with the relationship

so i know there were some complex issues that were handled well on the show, obviously, or else we wouldn’t all still be talking about it, but could they have effectively handled a M/M romance (in the 90s)? i think not

exhibit A - they fucked up the dominion narrative so bad that the producers literally did not even understand what they had created. they could have explored a lot of issues that were treated with care when it came to other characters (drug addiction, generational trauma, dynamics in an authoritarian society, etc.) but instead we got “these are the bad guys, boooo! 👿👽”

exhibit B - the production team made plot decisions based on their petty grievance with fans enjoying dukat in a way they didn’t understand. if these dudes can’t handle people finding a fictional villain sexy they definitely wouldn’t have handled the queer community’s reaction to canon garashir, whatever that reaction may have been, because at the end of the day they were out of touch with the fans

i rest my case

[snortinguraniumoxide]

Little midnight Rant about Dostoevsky's Ippolit Terentyev!!!

What a surprise - a dark and gloomy Wednesday evening. I'm WAYYY too deep in my feels (maybe because of the depressing Spotify piano playlist that conveniently made its way to my ears), so I decided that I needed to pour my innermost thoughts regarding Ippolit's (Hippolite's?) character from "The Idiot" by Dostoevsky - it's very possible that NOBODY is going to read this but HEY, what do I have to lose if I just type some random doodoo here,,, SOOO BEFORE I START, excuse my potential grammar mistakes or any "spEeCH InCOnGRuencY" which I might spit out here, it's almost 12 am and I'm generally not one to write or describe my emotions on tumblr or anywhere else (this is my first post after all ;0) ENOUGH RAMBLING;;

I don't know what the majority of people in the fandom (is there a fandom? Lord tell me there is) think about Ippolit, but overall, I find this fella to be a VERY tragic character; he's also still quite relatable in the era we live in today, where young adults crave independence of thought and just want to live their life, bothered only by the occassional thought that they must make their youth "worth" reminiscing about at an old age. But I guess teenagers growing into adulthood have always been known for yearning autonomy. I've gathered that this idea, which both humanity and society have supported for so many years, is what makes Ippolit's character so realistic, so relatable-- and yet, I couldn't quite emotionally grasp "HIM", so to speak. I'm convinced many, whilst reading this youngster's "Confession" and evolution throughout the novel, have asked themselves; "What would I have done/would I do in his shoes?".

And that question crossed my mind, too - I find it to be nothing less than pretty terrifying. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but knowing that your youth will undoubtedly be cut short by a disease as ruthless as tuberculosis is not an easy pill to swallow. While others "live", you're cursed to count your remaining days and have your brain constantly remind you about how others were just lucky;; that, no matter what you try to do, you cannot escape your fate - and you can't carry on existing.

Perhaps his arch seemed so personal to me because I, too, am a young person who wants to carry on living, without knowing the days I have left (and now I'm talking more about myself than the character I'm dedicating this post to, sorry about that); imagine dealing with the thought that someday you won't have your childhood anymore, getting over it, becoming a teen, getting ready to fly the nest and go out on your own - then you're hit over the head with the CERTAINTY that you will have the rest of your life taken away, too. And not when you're old, in a best case scenario, having settled any business you wished to clarify before you left, and having lived a pleasurable couple of years on Earth - but while you're still forming and shaping as an individual. Now, Ippolit was undoubtedly smart and idealistic (poor baby), maybe TOO idealistic for his own good, so I see why he was angry in his letter; angry at the people who were fortunate enough to have the option to waste their days goofing around, simply thanks to the fact that they aren't painfully aware that their clock is ticking every minute of every day.

I genuinely think that, even though his opinions are sometimes VEEERY far-fetched, he is one to be empathized with - as someone who was destined for greatness, but, at the same time, was far away from achieving it.

I forgot most of what I wanted to type earlier, but I hope you enjoyed this hehe :> NOW TO DRAWING MORE IPPOLIT AND WISHING THAT HIS ARCH WASN'T SO TRAGIC!!!

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[wolfgangisdead]

for whom the sun rises

part one

moon knight (tv show)

Steven Grant x Oc, Marc Spector x Oc

enemies/frenemies to lovers (Marc), friends to lovers (Steven), Angst, fluff, potential ooc Steven, I'm essentially making this up as I go

NOTE there's been a change in Khnum's design, he'll be from now on described as having an actual ram head. It's easier to draw and seems more fitting for him as the Divine Potter. I also feel like I'm consistently going to not write Steven's personality well at all so if anyone has any tips on writing him better feel free to send them! I'm confident I'd be better with Marc. i feel like it's obvious this is my first fanfic in years lmao

Khnum is far more displeased by the idea of being in London than anything else. Millie knows him to be a quieter god, unlike others, and yet when they had first set foot in London, all he did was mention how horrid it was that it was grey and bleak. He'd rather be in Egypt, basking in the rays, or perhaps Rome or Greece, watching the 'idiots', as he put it, wrestle until someone is declared a winner.

"There is doubt in your mind, child, speak it before it destroys you," he follows behind her, visible to no one else except for her. It's a shame, really. A nearly nine foot behemoth of a ram, staring you down with his piercing goat-like eyes? Yeah, she's sure the humans would love that.

"we are in London and there's no tasks for me," she retorts with a frown, "I can't simply wait on Steven to be my friend, give me something to do."

"You want for something to do? You desire to fiddle and work? Then you shall," he says, but she knows there's a catch, "befriend Steven. You have so little friends, it is pitiful."

"Oh, you're an ass, I was already planning to befriend him anyway. He seems sweet, and so genuinely... lost? I just have a need to help him, okay? Like it's... why am I talking to a god that only I can see as if he's my best friend." She stares blankly, ignoring the way the people that walk past her send her odd looks. Just another delusional American to them, she supposes.

"Back in my youth, everyone had friends, but you? You have a man who looks upon you and wishes you were another," he replies, unbothered, "you must get out and socialize. Your apartment is not nearly as comfortable as you think."

Millie stares at him, but then she sighs heavily. Back in his day? Yeah, back in his fucking day you married at thirteen, had five kids by sixteen, and died by your late twenties, early thirties. He's older than sliced bread, women's rights, and cellphones. It's amazing he's even talking in a language she knows fluently.

"Do you think Set is in the market for an avatar? I think working for him would be fun." She hears Khnum snort from behind her.

"You don't have the heart to kill, child, why else do you think he left you?"

—

"You're sweet, Steven," Millie snorts, walking at his side after an evening getting the best steak in town. "You deserve better than that gift shop. You know so much, it's wasted if you aren't sharing it! Especially if the museum isn't even attempting to get their information correct!"

"I can't complain, a job's a job, after all," he shrugs lightly, "I like it. It's not so bad. What do you do?"

"I restored things in a museum, typically it was Egyptian artifacts, but I left after the world threw me some problems. Now I travel, do odd jobs here and there." She responds, biting her lip. "I can't imagine we could open a museum, eh? Just the two of us and all that? Your brains my restoration skills?"

His face flushes and he looks away. "N-No, no, I suppose not... Seems awfully expensive... Sounds like fun, though."

"Do you do anything outside of work?" She cocks her head to the side, inwardly cursing herself for being so prying. "I ask because it'd be nice to meet up again!"

"I research a lot, mainly Ancient Egypt, but I read poetry too. I've got a goldfish, Gus, he's my little one-finned wonder." The way he speaks of his fish reminds her of how dog owners speak of their pups. It's cute, really.

"Do you have a favorite poem?" She asks quietly, then she adds, "do you read poetry to your fish?"

Steven laughs at that. It's a quiet, reserved laugh almost, but he laughs all the same. "No, but should I? Do you think he'd like it? If I read to him?"

"Yeah, I think he would. Of course he might not remember it, goldfish don't have a long memory," she snickers, "but I think he'd like it all the same."

"You're telling the boy to talk to his fish? And here I thought your time with Marc was depressing."

"It's pathetic, innit? You seem to have such a wonderful life, and I'm just someone who talks to his fish... you must be bored." He looks away, as if he had gone through this same thing many times before.

"Why would it be pathetic? People talk to their dogs and cats, why not fish? It's charming," she muses, "hey, maybe I can get myself a fish! That way we can talk about our fishes!"

They walk for a while longer before they go separate ways for the night. He had walked her to her apartment, though, which was very sweet. But she can tell that he's reserved. Shy is an understatement, but she probably has enough energy for the both of them, anyway.

—

"You actually went out and bought a fish," Khnum muses, "you could have made one, you know. What is the point of being the avatar of the Divine Potter if you will not use the powers bestowed to you?"

Millie presses her face against the glass of the tank. "I used the powers to make money so I could afford the tank, that has to count for something. But it's cute, I think I understand why Steven talks to Gus."

"Because he has no friends and neither do you? Yes, I do think I understand now, too." He replies, eyes narrowed. One of his ears twitch out of annoyance. "Your duty is to create, Millicent. There is unease in the world of the gods, and while people destroy, you are here fraternizing with a fish. You are more suited to Tawaret. You are not normal, and you never will be. To pretend otherwise is to delude yourself and you are better than that."

His words remind her of the very same reason she and Marc never got along in the first place. She was bound to creation, Marc was bound to vengeance. Khonshu had no qualms against killint to get the revenge he deems necessary, but a god of creation? Khnum would never willfully allow for the loss of life. Creation, and pro-creation are his thing, not death and destruction. She could create beasts to kill on her behalf, but it does not change the fact that she would be killing. But she was never a killer and one day, her inability to kill almost cost Marc someone important.

"You remind me that I'm not a killer, but sometimes I wonder what it would take to kill a god."

"If you cannot be a hero without having to kill, how can you consider yourself any better than them?" His eyes pierce into her soul, dark and inquisitive. "He will never look upon you as an equal because you do not kill when he deems you must. So, simply show him what you are capable without killing."

"Like what? Beat the shit out of him and call it a day?" She turns to look at Khnum but there's no one but empty space and what looks like to be some sand.

So, he expects her to be strong enough not to kill and powerful enough to be equal to a man of vengeance? She can do that.

[woomycritiques543]

A a couple of friends had this convo about Mordecai from Lackadaisy and all the ships the other day (all anonymous of course) and I feel that this entire conversation pretty much sums up why this is such an issue:

Person One: “Its one thing for this to be occasional but the fact that people be ALWAYS showing aroace as romantic or highly sexual is where I draw the line.”

Person One: “its so erasery and gross smh.”

Person Two: “YEA !! and not even exploring how being aroace effects romantic/sexual relationships when that could make the writing of the ship stronger and more complex is sucj a waste honestly. . for me its doubly bad on both writing and yhe way it effects me personally grounds”

Person Three: “YOURE SO RIGHT

Its like i feel like ppl also fail to even grasp was aro and ace means on its own too.

I dont feel like you understand that when you make Mordecai want to do romantic and intimate things that it kind of blatantly contradicts his identity esp in the way its done bc it often its a problem when it lacks any acknowledgement of how that effects the realtiomship and ways you do things

Mordecai *could* like going on dates, but hes probably only going to like the aspect of going to a fancy dinner and the company of another person there. The enjoyment is separate from the involvement or inclusion of a specific person.”

Person Three:

“And i get the feeling its bc ppl think thats bad. Bc the character cruely not reciprocating feelings of the other is a bit of a common fanfic trope in itself too. But its not. Its literally just "its cool as long as we both understand and are okay with this dynamic.”

-and that’s the issue.

Many of the sexualities in Vivziepop’s work have very little representation, so for her to treat these sexualities as “ship fuel” that you can “change on a dime!” and cause the representation of these sexualities to be almost equally as less common as it was before her shows is NOT ok.

LGBTQ+ deserve more representation than just the canon! -and to prioritize media enjoyment over said representation erases the purpose of it entirely, especially with how the characters in the show being lgbt+ is treated more like “fetish fuel” than actual rep. So the way that Vivziepop lets her fandom erase potential representation for aro, aro ace, ace, lesbians, gay, etc is genuinely erasing representation that people NEED and is instead treating these representations as if themselves are “ship fuel” which is wrong on so many levels beyond that of words…

But all that I can say is:

“Self shipping to cope with trauma good, it’s a fictional character and you’re a real person who deserves to have blorbos that bring you happiness. Shipping JUST BECAUSE and using ERASURE to benefit yourself, bad! Don’t erase our potential representation! Be respectful towards the representation instead of erasing it in other media with these characters because we don’t have much in the first place and need all the LGBT+ representation we can get!”

@ikari-shinsei no you don’t get it when i said she enables them i didn’t mean that like “she doesn’t do enough to stop it” i mean like she actually tells people it’s okay.

i’ve had people straight up justify their gay erasure when they’re called out for it by telling me “well viv says it’s okay” as if that should effect how i feel about it.

it would’ve one thing if she said “i don’t condone it but i can’t control it.” but that’s not what she’s saying.

[nerdzzone]

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think! 

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

-

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

-

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

-

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

-

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

-

Part Two

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

[black-coffee-and-sugar]

Azie killed it!!!

me praising a supergirl episode? i know, shocking. but 6x12 just came for me where i live! i knew it was going to be great but it surpassed my expectations. sister are really doing it for themselves! so many things to point out that were phenomenal but here’s what comes to mind rn:

- the camera work while kelly’s all distressed at the hospital, lil joey struggling to breathe, orlando looking so helpless > i was already stressed within 5 mins

- rankin literally saying “i’ll do everything i can to help these people” while rolling away to her private hospital room with access to trial medication when the residents of the heights probably don’t even have insurance or money to pay the bills. also rankin literally sucking the life out of this disadvantaged community, building wealth and pushing her political agenda on the backs of black people is the most realistic portrayal of true villainy that this show has ever given us

- kelly’s phone call to james in the stairwell, talking about how exhausting it is was so personal to me. i work in these types of communities all the time and it’s a hard fight. i get emotionally tired too. it does feel like screaming into the void, like one step forward and ten steps back. and i felt this for kelly.

- alex’s solution is to send respirators and nothing else? just makes me realize that while the super friends were protecting mxy and trying to capture nxyly, they were pretty much neglecting the heights. people who were literally dying and it’s horrifying to think of where their priorities lie. especially considering the fact that they could have handled the nxyly issue without alex so she can support her gf

- writer 1: how do we make the audience hate rankin some more?

  writer 2: have her kill a guy for a sandwich on white bread. it’ll make her look like even more of an asshole

but seriously, what kind of psychopathic shit was that?

- andrea has always been portrayed a shameless capitalist who only cares about grabbing eyeballs but it has never been highlighted as negatively as it was in this episode in that phone call with kelly 

- i think kelly reaching out to lena who isn’t even in national city really speaks to her desperation to have someone see her. someone hear her. someone fucking help and i’m glad she had at least diggle’s support

- that slim stack of bills is all it took for that woman to sell her soul to rankin? bruh...

- the super friends showing up to the heights, only concerned with tracking nxyly, not giving any amount of fucks about what kelly is trying to say enraged me. i know that was the point of the episode but STILL

- kara telling kelly that mxy can fix all this once they get him out of the crystal. what are you five? give me a goddamn break with this foolishness kara! so lil joey’s lungs are just supposed to hang on til whenever the fuck y’all save mxy? lena, please come and collect your wife

- kelly looking directly at kara when she mentions the word hope while dragging the super friends for their nonchalant behaviour > oof, a slap to the face

- i see nia had the one brain cell this week. she’s the only one who attempted to help kelly in whatever way she could. 

- brainy really said racism is still a problem in the 31st century and it did not surprise me. 

- seems like having tunnel vision is a danvers sisters trait. i get alex not being able to relate to kelly’s struggle but come on she’s your girlfriend. can’t you tell when she’s upset?

- i’m glad that they addressed j’onn choosing the appearance of a black man and how even though he may have been a target because of it, he still can’t relate fully to the experiences like kelly, james and diggle can. it’s optional for him. they don’t have that luxury to check out whenever it suits them

- kara talking about the anti-alien hate with the col and i would like to remind kara that she genuinely thought things were improving and that the division didn’t exist despite j’onn and brainy repeatedly telling her otherwise. because, once again, her physical appearance affords her privilege that no black person or visible alien will ever receive

- every kelly scene was so emotional i was bawling wtf. her talking about pushing her pain and anger down and trying to be positive and all smiles > 100% accurate 

- i can’t believe i’m saying this but i did not need the lena scenes. they should’ve just kept those out. on the other note, magical amazon package delivery

- guardian’s suit is so fucking badass!!! i’m glad little black girls will feel SEEN and INSPIRED in this episode. thank you azie

- kara was really out there getting her ass kicked by a human who just got powers for a few hours? stop nerfing her abilities!

- the way we got an actual scene of kelly carefully wrapping her hair, the say her name t shirt, the books on the coffee table > well done azie

- alex and kelly in the final scene was a good portrayal of an interracial relationship where one partner wants to but just will never understand the issue fully. alex just needs to be there for kelly and i’m glad that they didn’t make it a moment to educate her white gf about racial discrimination. they kept the focus where it needed to be. i’m also  glad that unlike the other soical justice topics we’ve had,  they didn’t try to make it seem like something that is so engrained into the fabric of society can be wrapped up with a neat little bow and be done with. there’s more fighting to do but at least it seems like kelly will have the support going forward

- the promo after such a powerful episode gave me whiplash. back to our regularly scheduled nonsense i guess

This episode holy shit. man it was amazing. azie is a talented writer and it’s easy to tell that she was drawing inspiration from real and personal experiences. it was very easy for me to relate to these scenes, especially the hospital ones. also makes me annoyed because they’ve been wasting all this potential and this episode is proof that the show and it’s storylines can be nuanced and still include superhero aspects. too bad this episode will likely become one of few in this show’s entire run that actually accomplishes that.