#if you look closely you can tell exactly at which point i started spiraling

[4acoffee]

Burning your old homework papers with Katsuki. 

After school ends, of course. He disapproves greatly, but after a particularly difficult day, you want nothing more than to finally release your frustrations on something. To watch it shrivel up and burn. 

He always makes sure you have supervision if you’re not feeling alright, because he knows how you’re prone to being reckless when you’re alone. He also knows the feeling all too well, the pressure of overwhelming anger and frustration that builds up and threatens to tear him apart at the seams from the inside out all the time. 

As a hero, he can usually rely on his quirk to get rid of some of the stress, but he knows you don't exactly have the same liberty as him. 

You send him an abrupt text one day about burning your homework, — perfect grammar, spelling, punctuation, and he immediately knows there's something wrong. Shoots you back a quick text to wait for him and shows up at your door 10 minutes later with a scowl on his face and hands shoved inside his pockets. 

Doesn't ask any questions, just makes sure you know what you're doing and leads you to a safe spot. 

When he's satisfied with all the safety precautions, he sparks you a carefully controlled little fire with his quirk and watches as you start dropping your papers in.

There's a certain vengeance to your movements, a distraught kind of glee in your eyes that toes on the edge of tears as you watch a part of your burdens rise up into the air as smoke. He sees your shoulders shake with some emotion a few times but just lets you get it all out of your system. 

Something that you're endlessly grateful for. 

Eventually you've burnt yourself out and exhausted your supply of trauma inducing paper fuel for the fire. As the fire slowly burns out and coughs up more smoke, Katsuki draws you into a tight hug by the side of your arm. 

Your face is squished against his chest and you try to control your breathing to stop the tremors racking through your body, but he just, holds you through it. Doesn’t let go when your knees threaten to give up from under you, or when your nails dig moons into his skin from under his shirt when you grasp at him desperately. 

There’s a hundred unanswered problems that make you want to rip your hair out and scream at the world. Have someone else acknowledge them for you so you don’t have to fix them by yourself.

But you don’t, you keep them to yourself, you hold them in like you always do, like it’s expected of you. The responsible one, the calm one, the reliable one. Anticipate, don’t complain, adjust yourself. You are so fucking sick of it. 

And Katsuki still holds you through it. You have a hundred unanswered problems and he doesn’t know what they are, but he doesn’t let you go. You have a hundred unanswered problems and you keep it in, but you don’t have to keep it together. Not with him. 

[brawlingdiscontent]

CW: Mentions of death and suicide, spoilers for all of Interview with the Vampire season 2 

In season 2, episode 5, “Don’t be afraid, just start the tape,” a number of key questions circle around Daniel and Louis: Why did Louis pick Daniel to go home with him? Why did he ultimately save Daniel from Armand? This post unpacks these through a close reading of the episode and explores how they shed light on 2022 Louis’ character arc. (AKA, I decided to be a huge dork about this episode!)

Near the top of the episode, Daniel raises his “outstanding questions” about 1973 with Louis: “...like why you talked to me in the first place?” He doesn’t buy Louis’ unsatisfactory and avoidant answers, but Louis succeeds in dodging his questions with another – “What’s the next thing you remember?” 

In the flashback, we see Louis reject Daniel’s sexual proposition because, as 2022 Louis tells Daniel, “you offered something off the menu.” But what, exactly, is that?

Louis’ problem is his inability to examine or work through the massive amount of pain he carries, relying instead on various strategies of avoidance (which, for example, form the spine of his Paris life). The result is Louis’ dissociation and separation from himself. In 1973, the resulting internal pressure has culminated in a self-destructive spiral (128 boys) from which Louis desperately needs an outlet—which leads to what present-day Daniel describes as a “floundering” Louis, “eager to spill” “tape after tape of emotional upchuck”—burning with the need to vent the pain held inside and repressed for so long.

Later Louis tells Armand, “the ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating than decades spent with you!” which Armand mishears as Louis saying that DANIEL is fascinating (and obsesses over this—more on Armand later). But what Louis actually says is the hours spent together were exciting and fascinating, in other words, the experience Daniel afforded, the interview. So what was this experience?

While the interview is valuable, not just any interview or interviewer would do the trick. Daniel is more than ”an eager black hole” absorbing others’ stories, and the experience is more to Louis than just having a listening ear.

The key, surprisingly, lies at the point where Louis snaps. Deep in reflection and depression, Louis tells Daniel that after Claudia set off on her planned Europe trip he thought about killing himself, staying in the park until the sun came up. And instead of empathizing Daniel gets mad: 

Daniel: “Are you kidding me? What, you were just gonna end it!? I mean, what about life? Like, joyrides and night swimming, and marriage, and cancer, and all of that till the death rattle? I mean we gotta carry all this shit and you had a ticket out and you were just gonna throw it away?..... you were given the gift, and I’ve been hearing you bitch the night about it.”

Upon Louis’ answering outrage, Daniel adds: “I mean, you don’t understand the meaning of your own story.”

While, to be clear, Daniel also doesn’t know the meaning of Louis’ story and his take on it is pretty bad (the meaning is ‘make Daniel a vampire??’) The provocation within these words and his call to life are very valuable. When Louis examines his existence he only finds meaning in pain, which makes him afraid to look closer and makes death seem the only viable escape. Daniel, even with all his struggles, affirms life through its challenges and prompts Louis to interrogate his own narratives about his story, which fixates on the burdens of vampiric existence. 

Meanwhile, in Louis’ immediate environment, the only thing Armand knows how to affirm is death, which we soon watch him try to coax Daniel into. (Not taking sides on Armand, here. I think both Armand lovers and haters can agree that whatever else he may be he is a Sad Little Muffin). Throughout season two Armand repeatedly discourages Louis from engaging with his pain. For one brief example, in 2.1 when Louis cries when discussing Claudia with Daniel, Armand calls for a break and tells Louis he's ‘lost control of the interview’. I think we can read multiple motivations into Armand’s actions: that he’s intervening both for Louis’ sake as he’s afraid that confronting the pain will kill him (as it almost did that night in 1973) AND that he doesn’t want his lies exposed— he’s a complex creature.

Figuratively, for Louis’ arc, Armand represents fiction and illusion. That’s what the theatre’s about, and his big-boss persona hiding a fragile gremlin, and even his ‘Rashid’ disguise. He generally prefers pleasing fantasies and fictionalized narratives—including wilfully ignoring the reason that Louis is with him in 2022 (the name, unspoken in their home for 23 years)—to painful truth. In this respect and others, he is the exact counter to Daniel (which makes them such a fascinating pair).

Where Armand is death, Daniel is life. Where Armand is illusion, Daniel is truth. By offering the opposite of Louis’ current environment, life and truth, and giving him permission/encouragement to address his pain, Daniel becomes a source of fascination that Armand can’t pin down. (And how could he figure out that it’s Daniel’s joy for life and zest for truth that’s the source of Louis’ fascination, when Armand, himself, has little of his own.)

However, Louis doesn’t understand the gift that Daniel offers him in the moment. Instead, injured by the provocation, he lashes out and attacks Daniel. It’s what happens later, in the fight with Armand, that cracks things open for him.

Louis and Armand’s fight is the emotional equivalent of them digging their fingers in each other’s open wounds. One of the last things that Armand says to Louis before the latter runs onto the roof is: “...[Claudia] didn’t love you, not like he did. Not like I have.” Louis says, “I know. I know! Yes. I know. Thank you for saying it. It’s all creeping back…” And then after some more raving and a, “She’s calling me”, now high off his mind from Daniel’s drug-laced blood, Louis runs onto the roof. 

Louis running out into the daylight is not so much a deliberate suicide attempt as it is an externalization of his pain, triggered by the memories. His burnt and charred body actualizes the pain that he always carries inside, like a festering wound, but is only now facing. 

While in this painful moment of (literal) exposure, Louis is living out the show’s tagline “memory is a monster” an alternate tagline could also be drawn from it – “the truth, even if painful, will set you free’—which Louis comes to recognize. His pained “thank you for saying it” to Armand after the latter's devastating remarks about Claudia is about Louis’ need to confront the pain. I’m not at all saying that Claudia didn’t love Louis (even Armand’s wording modifies this “not like he did. Not like I have”), but rather that Armand’s words, combined with Daniel’s assertion that Louis doesn’t know the meaning of his own story, draw attention to the fact that the narrative he’s been crafting for himself is one that both preserves his pain, and avoids engaging with or working through it. (Which will eventually lead to bigger discoveries like “I didn’t realize it was a gift”.)

Despite the horrific experience of being burned, as he lies in bed recovering Louis finds that the remembering is worth it, making him realize the value of Daniel’s questioning—and feel the need to return the gift by saving Daniel’s life, where only a few days before he would have drained him had Armand not intervened.

Daniel doesn’t need to live as a testament to Louis and Armand’s relationship—that’s just the bullshit Louis tells Armand to get him to go along with it. Daniel’s high off his mind, but his instincts have helped Louis to see that Louis’ own is one of the “stories that need telling,” and handed him the key he needs to move through his grief. My favourite little detail about this scene is the light hanging above Daniel’s head as Louis offers his pep talk. Daniel sheds light for Louis, so Louis, in exchange, offers him a different kind of metaphorical light: words for when things get tough. They offer each other mutual support (best bros!!)—in a way that Louis’ two hubbies have so far been unable to do. 

Unfortunately, when Armand wipes Louis’ memories of this encounter, the guiding light Daniel offered is gone, too—instead going on to become a central part of Louis' season two character arc once the memories are recovered. 

The question then emerges—if Daniel’s speech was so valuable and healing, why the memory wipes? 

There’s two options: Louis may have recognized the value of what Daniel offered but have still been unprepared to examine his pain, and so asked Armand to erase the memories. The other option is that, Armand, worried about another suicide attempt and Louis leaving him, took away that choice for him by erasing the memory. (What really strikes me here are the parallels between Armand and Lestat. Lestat kidnaps Claudia and threatens to kill her to prevent Louis from leaving him but also out of a desire to save Louis’ life, given his despair at Claudia’s absence. Armand arguably operates in the same way. Both do messed up things for somewhat pure as well as selfish reasons).

I think what actually happened could be somewhere in the middle of these two options—Armand manipulating/convincing Louis into erasing the memory, and a pained, still-healing Louis agreeing. And then of course, in typical Armand fashion, when the topic comes up, he dodges accountability with a, ‘But it was your idea, babe.’)

And yet, we see the effectiveness of Daniel’s intervention through the progress they make in the new interview session and once Louis recovers these memories in 2022—for example, we see Louis go from torturing Daniel for probing too far into Claudia, to facing deeply painful memories of her and acceding to Lestat’s version of the story of Claudia’s turning.

As a form of summary, we actually see this whole dynamic I’ve detailed play out in the beginning of the episode in Dubai (and that’s what’s so perfect about the writing!!)—when Daniel says ‘grab that’ and Louis asks about what he’s grabbing:

Louis (recorded): “Funny thing, trying to remember what occupied one’s time, when one was ignorant of the plotting around him.” Daniel: It’s a thing with syntax, I see it a lot. The impersonal pronoun ‘one’—one’s time, one didn’t—becomes the third person ‘him’. Stops being ‘I’ or ‘me’. Louis: And that indicates what? Daniel: You’re circling something, you’re getting close to something you want distance from. Language as a chicken exit on a roller coaster. Armand: Or it’s daytime and a vampire of Louis’ age is fighting the narcoleptic pull of the sun.

It’s the same ditty - Louis dissociates, Daniel identifies the pain point, and Armand tries to change the subject. 

What’s lovely, then, is how this little exchange is prologue to the past playing out yet again the present. And so it comes to pass a few episodes later that Daniel uses his skills as a “bright young reporter with a point of view” to once again shine a light for Louis, getting him to see past the pain, and exposing the truth (Daniel voice: He didn’t save you, Lestat did!)

In conclusion: Best bros 4 eva!!

Thanks for reading! Medal for you, if you got this far!

[strawberryyivy]

— ★ Blind Faith [Hazel almost confessed her feelings for you twice, but maybe the third time's the charm?]

The first time Hazel tried to confess her feelings for you, was two months after you two met.

She knew you because you were best friends with her roommate, Stella, and ever since you both met she started to see you around a lot. you were always there, getting ready for parties, studying, but most of the times just hanging out. and she felt a little bothered in the beginning, when she didn't exactly talk to you. To her it was a bit weird that somehow whenever she was there, you were as well. But that only lasted for a few weeks before you guys had your first talk.

She was exhausted from her classes, all she wanted to do was lay in her bed and never get up. But when she entered her room she saw you, sitting on your best friend's bed, pen in hand, eyes focused on whatever book you were reading at the moment. Your eyes went to her the minute you heard the door being closed, making her feel nervous all of the sudden.

"Hi" you said, your voice sweet and careful, like you were scared you were going to scare her off.

"Hello" she sat on her bed, unsure of what to do. "Hm... are you waiting for Stella? cause I don't think she's done with her classes yet"

You sent her a smile, which made her nervous. How didn't she notice how pretty you were?

"I'm not, I have a class in a few minutes and I wanted to rest for a little bit, if that's okay?"

She wanted to ask why you wanted to rest in her dorm and not yours, but when she looked at you again, you still had that stupid smile on your face making her forget about her more stupid question.

"Yeah of course! I don't mind."

You blinked at her a few times, and she could swear you looked at her mouth for a second. "Thanks, Hazel."

You went back to your book, getting more comfortable on the bed. Meanwhile, she didn't know how to act so she just laid down and stared at the ceiling, hoping the silence was bothering you as much as it was bothering her.

ᥫ᭡

After that, you guys become something, she couldn't really put a finger on it, she didn't really know what to call it, she just noticed that now a few things were different. She noticed how whenever you were around you would touch her in some way or another, she noticed the smile that almost never left your face when you were talking to her, she noticed that your eyes shined whenever you would look at her direction. But then again, can eyes even do that? She felt so confused, specially because she noticed things about herself.

She noticed how nervous she became around you, she was usually shy and reserved but around you it seemed to be worse, her hands would shake whenever you would hug her, her heart started to beat way faster just with the thought of you, and the minute she saw your smile, that stupid beautiful smile, she felt like she could melt on the floor.

When she realized she had a crush on you, she went on a little spiral. There was no way a beautiful girl like you could ever like her back, she saw the way you carried yourself, the way people would look at you with admiration and love. You were smart, and kind, and so pretty, and not the normal amount, more like she would start a fight club just to have the chance to even be close to you kind of pretty.

So that's when she told her friends, Josie and Isabel, that she liked you, she was extremely surprised by their response.

"So wait, you are telling me, that this girl, always find a way to talk to you, always wanna be close to you, her eyes don't leave you whenever you are together... doesn't like you back?" Isabel was shocked, how could Hazel not see the signs that you were clearly trying to give her?

"I don't... I don't know. I don't think she does, I don't even know if she's gay." her sad puppy eyes made Isabel want to shake her shoulders and scream at her face. It was so obvious.

"Hazel. Listen to me," she took the girl's hand to try and get her point across. "she likes you! She is crushing on you just as much as you are on her. She wants you. Just go for it. Just do it."

Hazel looked at Josie, waiting for her opinion.

Josie looked at Isabel and then looked at Hazel again. "You heard the woman, just do it."

ᥫ᭡

The words of her friends was all she could think about as she watched you and Stella get ready for another party. You guys tried convincing her to come along, but she denied, claiming to be too tired for it.

She watched you putting your lipstick on, making your mouth a pretty shade of pink.

"Okay, wait. I'm going to Brittney's real quick, I think she's got my favorite top" Stella says before going out the door, not giving you guys time for an answer.

When you were done putting your lipstick on, you looked at her through the mirror. "You know, there's still time for you to come with us. It will be fun"

"Oh, well, I don't think parties are really my thing"

You turned around, walking towards her bed, stopping right in front her. "Not even if... I'm there? I'll keep you company during the whole night." You once again gave her your smile, your head slightly tilted to the side. "I pinky promise."

That moment something washed over her, she got up before she could even think about what she was doing, breath heavy and eyes blinking nervously.

"I- I need to tell you something"

"Okay," you took one more step forward, faces inches apart. "you can tell me anything."

Your pretty voice whispered to her, eyes locked with hers.

"I don't... I don't know if you want to hear this but I- I think- fuck- I-" she stopped when she felt your hand on hers, reassuring her that she could take her time. She took a deep breath. " y/n I think I-"

"Oh my god I'm back, Brittney couldn't find it anywhere!"

You guys jumped when you heard Stella's voice, her eyes looked in between you too and a look of guilt appeared on her face.

"Am I interrupting something? I'm so-"

"No! No, you're not! I was just about to go, actually."

Hazel could feel her heart beating fast and her hands shaking as she looked for her phone, when she turned to you, she saw a look that she couldn't really describe, and her heart sunk a little when you looked away from her, saying you had to finish getting ready.

Hazel said her goodbyes and left the room without rethinking her decision. She sat outside the dorm for a few minutes convincing herself that she was probably doing the right thing, it probably wasn't the right time anyway, and even if it was, she still had her doubts that you liked her back, even after everything.

So she just decided she would wait for these feelings for you to go away, knowing that she couldn't and wouldn't feel like this forever.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

But oh she was wrong, completely and truly wrong.

The feelings for you didn't go away, on the contrary, they got worse, much, much worse. At some point she started believing that you were a witch, punishing her for something she did in her past life, and it was probably something terrible. Only that could explain all these feelings.

First of all, she felt horrible about the way she just left you that night, even if you didn't know what she was going to tell you, she could tell you got upset. The image of your pretty disappointed eyes looking away from her kept playing over and over in her head. She was truly fucked.

And then she just kept feeling sorry for herself, she was such a loser she couldn't even tell you how she felt fast enough. She had you, listening to her, waiting for her to finally say what she wanted but she just couldn't.

"I mean it's not completely lost! You still have a chance!" she heard Isabel's voice and took her forearm away from her eyes, getting up and sitting on her friend's bed.

"I don't know... I think I messed it up." she let out a groan and put her face in her hands. "I'm so stupid! I can't believe I took that long to say one sentence."

"Just stop beating yourself up about it, you have to tell her, you will have other opportunities." Isabel put her into a quick hug before getting up from her bed. "Now, I have to go see Josie. You promise you'll be okay? You can stay here for as long as you want."

Hazel knew she wouldn't be, but maybe she just had to start accepting that.

"Yeah... Yeah I will."

After she was done feeling sorry for herself she decided that maybe, just maybe, Isabel was right and things weren't lost. Yet.

Maybe she could try again, maybe she could try talking somewhere more private this time, just you two, and she would prepare something nice and coherent to say to you instead of whatever came to mind. She just needed to figure out how to do that.

ᥫ᭡

"Hey" she entered her dorm and saw Stella getting ready to leave.

"Hi haze, you okay?"

"Yeah, hey listen, do you know of any parties happening this weekend?"

Stella stopped what she was doing and looked at Hazel like she had three eyes and four ears.

"For who? You?"

Hazel rolled her eyes, knowing that this would happen. But there's a first time to everything. Right?

"Well yeah, I'm tired of just staying in and you and... and y/n usually go somewhere during the weekends right?"

Just saying your name out loud made her nervous, and you weren't even there. That moment she knew. You really were a witch.

"I mean yes, I'm not judging by the way, just curious." She thought for a few minutes before continuing. "Yeah, so there's a frat party going on tomorrow, it's gonna be huge apparently, you should come!"

"Okay! Yeah I will, thanks Stella."

Hazel smiled to herself watching her roommate leave for her class. She was finally going to tell you, and there was nothing stopping her this time.

ᥫ᭡

"Okay so, are you sure you're ready?" Josie asked when they stepped out of the car. "Fuck, this is packed"

At that, Hazel finally took a look at the house, it was packed, definitely not her kind of scene but she had to do this. It was now or never.

"No yeah, I'm ready." she smoothed out her shirt taking a deep breath.

"And hey," she felt Isabel hand on her shoulder before they could go in, her eyes with a little bit of worry in them that she chose to ignore. "if anything happens, and you wanna leave, just look for us, okay?"

Hazel nodded, trying not to think about it too much. "Thank you."

Isabel nodded and smiled. "So let's go get your girl haze."

ᥫ᭡

One hour and forty minutes has passed, she had two drinks, danced to a few songs and talked to a few girls she would probably never see in her life again, but you just wouldn't show up.

She was already giving up on the idea that you were going to the party, Isabel said that people usually get there late but it was almost midnight and she wasn't really feeling like staying any longer.

That was until she saw you.

And she thought that was finally her chance, she would come up to you and ask for a moment of your time and she would be finally able to tell you what's been eating her inside for what's been feeling like too long.

But the few seconds of happiness were quickly destroyed when she saw that you were not alone. There was a girl standing way too close to you, touching your waist in a way that Hazel wanted to. You were smiling at her the same way you would smile at Hazel. Her heart sunk at that moment.

She couldn't bear to watch that anymore. She had to leave. And quick. That was her last try.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You started to like Hazel the minute you laid eyes on her for the first time, you were having coffee at your favorite coffee place, right across from campus. She came in wearing a white tank top and a flannel over it. She didn't see you, she went straight to the cashier to order her drink and left right after she got her order.

But you didn't forget about her, you kept thinking back to mysterious beautiful girl and who she was. Later on, you found out.

She was your best friend's roommate, and you could swear that when you guys met and you heard her voice say your name for the first time, you thought you were in heaven.

She was a little different than you, she was quiet and reserved, she didn't talk much but you liked it, you felt like you couldn't stay away from her.

So you started to spend as much time with Stella as possible, you felt a little bad at first, felt like you were using your best friend just to see your crush but Stella said that she didn't mind, that she was actually happy that you were finally putting yourself out there. But reality was: you were not out there. At all.

Yes, you tried to give Hazel little hints here and there, specially after she let you in a bit more, but it didn't seem to be working. At all.

That was until that one night, she said she wanted to tell you something, and you could swear that she was going to ask you out. That she was finally seeing you as more than just her roommate's best friend. You believed that she was going to tell her that she liked you back.

She didn't do any of those things, the minute she got interrupted something switched and you could tell. She never said what she wanted you to know, and you were beyond disappointed. Not at her but in yourself.

You waited for so long, and beside that night she never gave you any reason to think that she liked you back, she never flirted with you, and whenever you tried she would nervously change the subject. So you had to accept, Hazel was not into you like that, and she would probably never be.

ᥫ᭡

You smiled at the girl in front of you, trying as hard as you could to make this party worthy of your time.

You got there later than usual, because you really didn't feel like going. But you had a date after all, and you weren't going to spend one more minute in your bed thinking about Hazel and her beautiful blue eyes. No. You were moving on. You had to.

And that's why you let the girl kiss you.

She was nice, and she was pretty, she treated you right, so why didn't it feel right? Why did it feel like you were doing something you shouldn't be doing?

Later that night when you were in bed, you started to regret everything, you regretted going after Hazel and listening to your best friend telling you that she of course likes you back! ー And now you have to feel like shit, just for keeping your hopes up.

ᥫ᭡

It was a beautiful day outside when you decided to go to your coffee place, taking your book and headphones with you.

You were just starting out the window, thinking about your life, book long forgotten, when you heard the bells above the door, and when you saw who it was coming in, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

Hazel was looking was good as always, her hair was a bit messy but that was nothing new. You always thought she looked cute.

Just like the first time, you thought she wouldn't see you, you thought she would just grab her coffee and go wherever she was going. But this time was different, when she turned around she saw you and that made her stop right in her tracks. Eyes locked with yours, and you could tell that she was nervous.

You didn't know what to do but apparently she did, and you were thankful for that.

"Hey, uhm, it's been a little while"

She sounded nervous and she kept playing with her fingers. That just made you want to kiss her more.

"Hey, yeah it has been, how are you?" You gave yourself a little pat on the back for being able to speak while too many thoughts kept running through your head.

"I'm good... Thanks." she gave you a little smile before adding. "And you? Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah! I'm great, thanks" you smiled back, trying hard to not make it seem forced.

"Hm... Well, I'm glad... I'm glad"

"Yeah.."

Both of you just stared at each other for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.

"Well, I have to... go, so." she was the one to break the silence.

"Sure, yeah." You just smiled again, feeling lost on what to do.

She nodded and waved, you waved back and watched her go. When the door of the coffee shop closed you felt like you coul breathe again and something weird formed in your chest.

Even after everything you still liked her, you still wanted her, and you still felt that little hope inside of you, that hope telling you to try just one more time.

So you packed your things as fast as you could, throwing everything inside your bag, with coffee in hands and running through the door you see her, already across the street going in the direction of the campus.

You cross the street as fast as you could, and when you get close enough you scream her name, not caring if you were about to embarrass yourself.

She turned around, round and big eyes staring at you with confusion. When you stop in front of her, heavy breath and a expression she can't exactly read, she starts to worry.

"What's going-

"Hazel, I like you." you stumble over your words, speaking over her. "I like you more than as a friend, I actually like you for quite some time now." you let out a breathe before you can continue. "And I'm not sure if you like me back, I mean.. may- maybe I'm humiliating myself in front of all these people that I don't know, for nothing."

You give a quick look around, deciding that you only want to focus on the girl in front of you.

"But... I really want you Hazel, and if you don't want me in that way, it's fine but do you think you can at least-

Thankfully you didn't get to finish your speech, because Hazel had her hands on your face and her lips pressed against yours.

Your mind kept asking if that was even real, if that was actually happening. So when you pull away and see a little smile on her face, you feel like jumping up and down, not believing that she just kissed you.

"You like me." she whispered to you, not believing her own words.

"And you just kissed me, in front of everyone." you say, the biggest smile on your face.

"I can't believe you like me" she laughs a little.

"Yeah well, can you blame me?"

She just shakes her head, kissing you again. And only stopped when she heard a few people clapping and making kissing sounds.

"Okay" you grab her hand and start leading her away. "Let's get out of here"

[cherrypopgo]

Update on 100% Teruki AU!

Here I am going to ramble about the AU, most of the information was written on a google doc and inspired from others!

Summary:

This is supposed to be a story that follows Teruki on his journey to becoming a good person. What exactly does “good'' mean? It won't be easy with voices in his head and his sins crawling onto him. At least he has Shigeo. (Yes this au will be fanfic but I also will be posting comics along aside it, I tell you when I finish the first chapter!)

Backstory:

(Still in a work of progress will edit later when finished)

When he’ll obtain his 100% power is something I haven’t come up with and is having a hard time figuring it out, maybe through distress?

What also I need to figure out is when to corporate this au too. I was planning to do it after the canon show to keep everything how it is. Or to spice things up with things changing the plot with his 100%.

Another thing I will be incorporating to this AU is like a version ???% or Shigeo of Teruki. This ???% of Teruki is supposed to represent his past self. Before he met Shigeo. That he still thinks high of himself and low to others. Especially now that he is a lot more powerful than ever before. Instead of him creating destruction in the path when he walks like Shigeo he does it emotionally or mentally or whatever. What does that mean? It means he gets a little smart with it. Also he can talk. I have in mind two forms for him. One which is his true form is a shadowy version of him with yellow eyes (sometimes with spirals as his pupils.) And the other form is what he looks like when he turns 100% but with the same yellow eyes. To not make him stand out as much. 

His relationship with Shigeo you ask? It’s either with this new power he even strives more to beat him as his rival ORRRRrr the ladder still keeps him high regard and instead of JUST beating him just he still kinda plans to he also wants him to join him. His fascination with Shigeo will not die down and will instead grow as time goes on. (also…TERUMOB FOREVERRRRR) His goal is somewhat similar to before going up the hierarchy PROVE to everyone he’s worth something that he is greater. Why stop at school, the whole city, the country. Nah not the world too much. Now what about the relationship to himself? With Shigeo he doesn’t like Mob. It won’t be the same with Teruki. It is not necessarily dislikeness or hatefulness towards him more like pity. Pity for how he lacks the awareness that he is so much greater than he thinks. Why pity? Well, the reason he had changed was for Shigeo and he knows that. But he is regarding too much of his power and his identity to others. To the point instead of thinking of being equal to everyone maybe even lower because of his actions. The ???% Teruki would rather convince Teruki that he is so much greater.

When ???% Teruki comes out it won’t be as visible as Shigeo staying in the background in order to earn his reputation, to eliminate his competitors, to learn more about his powers.

When ???% Teruki first shows up it is not as notable, more a voice in Teruki’s head. The more he dismisses it, the more it grows very slowly. It would truly start to grow when Teruki gains his 100%.

For Power Balance no way he will overpower Shigeo but will come close.

Teruki’s Powers:

For this au I’ll be adding a new kind of psychic power specifically for Teruki obviously people like Shigeo and Teruki can learn it by looking which is CRAZY but yeah. This new type of physic power is the ability to copy other objects (nothing living, sorry that's too op). Want an another ice cream but only have one BOOM two ice creams! Want another phone BOOM two phones! Want another sword to stab your enemy in the chest? BOOM two swords! Obviously you expand on this power with enough to create more than one object or material. 

Teruki will still have his canon powers and maybe learn even more from Shigeo or Sakurai(sword dude.) (Saw this one fanfic) Another thing I want Teruki to be able to learn is curses. The curse to make another sleep or lose your psychic powers. Not too sure if you’re able to learn them but someone did it so maybe!

Thanks for reading my rambles! This au is something I’ve been thinking for the longest time and would like to bring it out to life! My goal is to one day for this au be recognized enough that people will be making their own aus of this one! For now baby steps.

If you have your own ideas what else to be put into this au I gladly look over them! This au is still being developed so don’t be harsh towards me. (Yea I’m sensitive)

Well! I hope you’re having a great day and or night!

[putnamcapital]

s1 ep 6 rewatch notes

[yeah i am still doing these essays, everyone copes differently OKAY]

I wish i had the words to convey my love for the Simon-Rosh-Ayub dynamic when they’re sitting on his bed trying to talk about his video, not the Kim K. video. it’s an instance of one of the things i ADORE about YR, namely, the importance of the love and support of friends - “the gang is back together”. contra a lot of the teenage and adult movies that put romantic love on a pedestal and everything else goes to the dogs.

That shot of Wille set against the sky when the Queen leaves = is it the apocalypse or is it heartbreak and i'm not the only one seeing the religious imagery right?

“we haven’t done anything wrong.” Simon’s moral clarity, his unbreakable backbone - it’s a moment where it’s obvious the Court has no idea who they are dealing with. I’m not sure Wille even knows then.

Frida doesn’t get enough praise for her acting. that side eye of August as they cross in front of him loafing on the picnic table: sublime.

Another parallel I hadn’t seen before: Sara dresses up before dinner; she likes the image she sees of herself in the mirror. She is “someone she is not”, according to Simon (later that night), but she wants that false countenance. In S2, that same move will devastate Wille. But we have another Sara-mirror scene, in S2. Leaning on the Wille-Sara parallel, there’s something being done here about becoming who you are through artifice (dressing up ‘in costume’) or through love (revealing your true self). August (as opposed to Simon, i think …) ends up being a false or traitorous ‘coming into self through love’ for Sara.

Related … when Sara went to see August to confront him about the video, i have retrospectively imagined her as having planned what happened. But if you look at the scene as it happens, both Sara and August seem to just be playing the situation as it arises. Sara starts off by not even intending to tell August, I think that was honest. When she then confronted him about the video, she first asks why did you do this to Wille and then, how do you have the right, you destroyed Simon? none of it is about her. it’s when August asks her ‘what do you want’ - that i think the idea comes to her. And i think that explains her face after she kisses August - her revulsion at herself. it seems like a situation that spiralled out of control very fast.

i can’t really talk about the Sara-Simon fight scene because it’s my Point of No Return in terms of “This is a nice program to watch of an evening” and “These characters have become my entire waking and sleeping existence, is there treatment for this.”

in the scene that starts with them sitting on the floor in Wille’s room, there is that tender moment by the door, and one of the top two kisses and hugs in the whole of season 1 and 2 combined, punctuated with the forehead tap. and i’ve always thought it so lovely until this time i saw the “red flag” - the towel hanging on the hook - and it reminded me of the red ‘flag’ we see in the locker room every other time things go south.

the scene with kristina and wille in the car starts simply with him saying, “WHAT?” which a) comes straight out of fanfic; b) is hyper-realistic adolescent approach to dialogue but also c) actually shows that they are really close. as in, Wille might loathe his mother by the end of this episode, but also he knows exactly what she’s thinking and they can just skip all the usual staging aspects of conversation. it links, i now see, to the book scene, where wille admits that he can’t just throw out everything he’s been taught, b/c he’s internalized it so well

when K is lecturing W about all the public attention he’s going to get now, and how it will be even worse, it’s the same shot of him looking out the car window wishing he could be literally anyone else as in the first few minutes of s1ep1, after the club fight. and we see his reflection in the window, so we get him 'in double' - who he is IRL, and who he is seen to be by the viewer. very clever. very clever.

[mobius-m-mobius]

HI i just saw ur lokius fairytale post aaand like kinda rotating that cinderella scenario around my head any chance you have any other thoughts to add onto it ?

Hey anon, really glad the fairytale asks stuck with you because we've been having so much fun with them! Honestly I'd not had a chance to think of more until getting this but after having a little time there's a scenario I'm kind of loving which may or may not have spiraled from the og Cinderella concept so apologies in advance 😅

(also putting this under a cut because y'all know me and whew did this get longer than even I'd expected 😂💖)

Cue Ravonna sending Mobius on a reconnaissance mission to get details on Odin being up to something which seems to differ from the usual flow of that timeline, the details are vague enough for him to wonder where she's going with this but they both know the chance for him to get close enough to Asgard is too tempting to pass up and there's an upcoming ball with enough invitations that one more shouldn't be a problem. So he tries his best to at least blend into the background long enough to slip away and search for info but the fact that he's pretty much the only person at the party not boisterously jumping through hoops for Odin's attention or favor draws Loki's attention him like a lightning rod, lol, which doesn't escape mutual notice and since the only other option would be Loki making a scene to draw attention to whoever this mysterious(ly hot) stranger is no one seems to know, Mobius can't help pointing out he's not exactly someone that would be sent in as a physical threat so maybe if he's allowed a few minutes to explain he could make it in Loki's best interest 👀👀

Loki's skeptical but intrigued, and it's not like he was enjoying the night beforehand anyway so he follows expecting some obvious lie of an excuse as to what Mobius is doing there but instead Mobius quite bluntly tells him he's there for dirt on Odin that could be mutually beneficial for them both.

This part he keeps to himself ofc, but by now he's figured out whatever's going on clearly has to do with/is centered around Loki's future and after so many years of researching Lokis he's secretly harbored a crush and honestly does want the best for them if possible so it's very easy to at least tell the truth about why he's trying to sneak around in the first place. Loki doesn't completely believe him, but he's infinitely more interesting than anyone in recent memory and Loki's desperate to learn about him so he haughtily declares Mobius no real threat, and will guide him through the palace personally to seek out this all important info, with the threat of imprisonment if the night ends empty handed.

Mobius cheerfully agrees with the knowledge he'll be long gone through a time door before things come to that, and the night is kind of playing out like a fantasy he didn't even realize he had so because he knows it won't last he lets himself be a little playful with Loki, praising his magic and asking questions he hadn't been able to answer from his files, like which flower first comes to mind when he looks out at the gardens?? Loki of course bristles at first but soon realizes how much comfort there is in the way Mobius speaks to and about him, and how his words bask brighter and warmer than any sun 🥺

However, because of this he can also tell Mobius knows far more about him than he previously let on, and can't figure out why he seems so delighted by all the qualities everyone else has been so bothered by his entire life so as they search through Odin's private study he starts needling for details to match, eventually getting nothing but things that completely baffle him like how Mobius obviously has horrible taste in food and that he seems wiser beyond his years than any Midguardian he's ever seen yet somehow seems to have nothing of personal value in his life except something called a jet ski?? And he's taken aback how, when pressed, Mobius isn't even upset about it but just a bit sadly resigned. They share a moment of bonding over their prior loneliness and start to grow even closer, leaning in just before a crash sounds from the hallway and the sounds of drunken guards calling for there whereabouts of Prince Loki echo, forcing them to break apart as Loki panics about how to explain Mobius' presence and bringing Mobius back to reality about how far he let the night spiral by indulging so it's all he can do but stumble out an apology for everything as Loki tries to find a way for them to sneak away before turning back just in time to see the gleam of a time door disappearing in the middle of the room 😔

Now the whole "glass slipper" element is a harder one since it's not like even if Mobius left behind something TVA related Loki would be able to trace it back to him so this is where I headcanon he dropped a folded magazine photo of a fav jet ski he liked to carry around as a reminder of why he works so hard, that he had taken out to show Loki was he was talking about earlier and Loki uses to trace back to Don, alerting the TVA due to the obvious branch it cases, and then you can only how everything Mobius knows implodes from there which would probably take me a year to detail but is very fun to picture and yes because I love him this would also result in Don meeting the Loki of his timeline because he deserves love too 😂😂

[axailslink]

One good day

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Warning: ⚠️ Mentions of suicide no one is unalived however in this fic.

Summary: During exams you completely forget about your mental well being which sometimes causes you to take a bit of a forward spiral luckily your girlfriend doesn't mind helping.

Depression is different for everyone but your girlfriend can see yours coming from a mile away. There were many tells that let her know the constant sleeping all day, lack of appetite, and the suicide jokes. So when she's done for the day with her assignments and notes she comes to your apartment bearing gifts which of course are cleaning products because if this is how you were acting she knew for a fact that the house was a mess but of course she has snacks too. When she opens the door your dog practically comes running to her "baby! Get Mocha!" She walks in the living room pajamas still on you could just guess she probably hadn't changed those clothes. "Hey mamas" she can see your face fall as you realize why she's here. "I'm fine" she nods "let's skip the part where you lie to me and we just start cleaning and healing" you close the door and lock it snapping your fingers at Mocha "gone I'll feed you in a minute" Mocha wonders off as Riri places the bags down and grabs you in a hug. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner" you hug her back immediately that's all you've needed recently a hug something to remind you that you're going to be alright. When you two pull apart Riri rolls her hoodie sleeves up and looks around the living room "the living room is fine so we just be cleaning your room" you nod "and the bathroom and the kitchen" she nods and gives you a box of Cheerios "what am I supposed to do with this?" "Eat it let me starts the clean up you put something on your stomach because I bet you'd fed Mocha more than yourself in this past week." She is right of course but it hurts to hear just how much you haven't taken care of yourself. You sit on the couch and open the Cheerio box "I also got some strawberries, bananas and a bit of junk food but eat the fruit first." You sigh as you look at the snacks. "Ole healthy ass" she peeks around the corner at you "what'd you say?" You say nothing and she smiles and goes to the bathroom she starts cleaning with no question knowing exactly where everything should be she doesn't judge you for your messiness right now she would never judge you for this. She could function during exams she'd still get up at seven in the morning and go running before classes start for her but she knew you weren't like her. When she finishes with the bathroom she lets it air out the smell of bleach and Lysol as she walks to this kitchen. Riri changes her gloves and takes in the scenery in front of her half eaten cup noodles stacked on top of each other, candy paper, snack paper usually she'd get onto you for all of this junk food but she says nothing as she starts doing the dishes. You sit on the couch watching her as she hums music to herself as she cleans you couldn't be more grateful for her she is truly amazing. Riri hums to Bohemian Rhapsody this of course causes your face to light up knowing that she's about to burst into song "is this the real life?" She holds a spatula to her mouth as a replacement for a microphone "is this just fantasy?" You can't help but crack a smile at her as you mumble the next line "caught in a landslide" she smiles at you and poses pointing the spatu-microphone towards you "they can't hear you!" "No escape from reality!" She laughs and you stand up continuing to sing with her shaking your box of Cheerios.

The day goes like that the smell of bleach, Lysol and pinesol fills your nostrils as you dance to the music and clean up. When you're both you take a hot bath and she sits on the toilet legs crossed as she shares a box of strawberries with you. "I'm so grateful for you" she nods "don't start that... If someone really cares about you they notice and they do what they can to help. I noticed and now I'm doing my best to help. I know that this one good day might not factor over all the bad days but be happy that you have this one good day." She glances around "do you still have some of my clothes over here?" You nod "yeah of course why?" She smiles as she places the strawberries on the counter and takes her shoes off as she joins you in the tub fully clothed. "Oh my God Riri!" She just laughs as she kisses your cheek and slips behind you putting you in a back hug "I just felt like you needed another hug." If only she knew how right she was about that hug.

A/n: this isn't meant to be depressing I wrote this for me mostly because I never had someone there to cheer me up other than my best friends and this is how they helped. Of course not getting in the tub with me but the cleaning and feeding me part is definitely real. Also mocha is now a new character since she has a dog.

[obwjam]

okay someone else probably asked this already but... a part 3 of this black panther x tiny reader fic going on where they meet T'challa and shuri... would be golden... just saying...

you ask and YE SHALL RECIEVE

(parts 1 and 2)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Really? That’s your name?”

You gave Ross a look of utter perplexity. Of all the reactions you were expecting, that was certainly not one of them. What was wrong with Lina?

He promptly apologized for his adverse reaction. “Sorry, it’s, uh, it’s been a long day. … More like a long few months.” He sighed, suddenly keen on changing the subject. “Look, I know you might not want to tell me everything, and that’s okay, but… can you tell me how exactly you got here?”

You didn’t really want to explain it all – or relive it – but you really didn’t have a choice. You recounted all the details, observing the way his expression changed from curious to concerned to downright angry.

“Jeez, kid. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.” You nodded to show your appreciation for his concern, which he was grateful for. “But, believe it or not, it’s almost a good thing that this happened. We haven’t had any leads on Killmonger’s whereabouts or business dealings, and you just gave us a place to start. I know T’Challa and Shuri will really appreciate that.”

You winced at those names. More people. More giants.

This time, Ross noticed. “Sorry, but I can’t not tell them about you.” He racked his brain, searching for the best way to calm you down. “Think about it this way. If you were… normal-sized… and you essentially trespassed into someone else’s very big, very important castle, and you had information they were looking for… wouldn’t they have the right to meet you and find out what you know?”

You hesitated. That was a good point, you supposed, but it left out a key detail – you didn’t intend for this to happen. You just wanted to leave and not be caught up in what was quickly becoming a global conspiracy in your mind.

Ross abruptly came to a stop. He could feel your tremors increasing the more he talked about T’Challa and Shuri. He wanted to move this case along, but above all, he just wanted you to feel safe and secure.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting his hand up so you could be at eye level. He marveled at your tiny form, still not quite sure how something so small and delicate could exist. “I know this is probably really, really scary for you. But trust me, T’Challa and Shuri would never hurt a fly. I promise they’ll be nothing but kind to you. Okay?”

All you could do was nod and try your best to trust him.

You tried to take your mind off the impending meeting by admiring the regality of the massive hallways you passed through. It hadn’t really sunk in until Ross said castle – this place was for literal royalty. You were about to meet some of the most important people of this country, maybe even the world. Even if you only discovered its existence a few days ago, it felt like an unbelievably daunting and important task.

Your surroundings changed as you went along, becoming more dark and ominous as you descended. Soon you were in a dimly-lit hallway that looked more akin to your underground hideouts and passageways than a place that housed nobility. You approached a single door that was pretty mundane at first, until you got close to it. The design on it was shimmering and intricate, as if it were changing with each flicker of your gaze. Ross asked if you were ready, and after a few deep breaths, you gave him the thumbs-up.

The room was infinitely more imposing than the last one, because this wasn’t just a room. It was a lab, filled with tables and insane-looking equipment and a larger-than-life artful spiral staircase in the middle. The sterile LED lights were enough to send you into a panic.

Instinctively, Ross curled his fingers around you just a little bit tighter, temporarily sealing you off from the overwhelming world above you. His warmth was able to bring your heart rate back down to semi-normal.

“Ah, Agent Ross,” a soft, yet confident voice rang out. That was undoubtedly Prince T’Challa.

“My favorite white man!” a much more youthful voice interjected. Definitely Princess Shuri.

“Aw, I’m touched,” Ross deadpanned. “I, ah, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“Straight to the point,” T’Challa mused. “What is it?”

“Well, firstly, Killmonger was here.”

A cold silence. “What? When?” Shuri finally asked.

“Days ago.”

T’Challa shifted uncomfortably. “How did we not notice?” 

“He was in and out very quickly, I think. He had just come back from England and was probably keen on getting back there as soon as possible.”

“How do you know he was in England?” Shuri questioned. “An hour ago, you didn’t know anything.”

Ross sighed as your breathing picked up. Here it comes.

“I, uh… I had some help.”

You felt yourself being lifted up even higher, and soon, you had to cover your eyes for a moment as those harsh LED lights penetrated your sight. The light only became dimmer when two dark, long shadows suddenly appeared over you.

There was a moment of awed silence before Shuri finally spoke. “No way…”

“Agent Ross? Who is this?” 

To everyone’s surprise, Shuri rolled her eyes. “They’re a borrower, brother. How do you not know?”

“How do you know?” Ross asked.

Shuri shrugged. “Because I am cultured.” She finally took a moment to truly study you – sure, she knew about borrowers, but she had never actually seen one. Certainly not in Wakanda. You were scared out of your wits, that much was clear, but she could also see just how disheveled you were… like you had been through more and seen more than most people had in their entire lives.

“What is your name, little one?” You were surprised that Shuri was being so gentle.

“It’s Lina,” Ross said, silently praying that you would calm down. “They, uh, they’re not too keen on talking.”

“That’s alright,” Shuri said, sympathy in her voice as she looked right at you.

“How exactly did they get here?” T’Challa cut in. It was his turn to gawk at you now. He would have to ask Shuri how she knew all about “borrowers” later. Right now, he was just stunned that something like you existed.

Ross knew you weren’t going to want to recount the story again, so he did all the talking. You cowered under the gazes of the three giants, who all shot you sad glances whenever Ross retold a particularly grueling detail.

“All the way from England, huh?” T’Challa said when Ross was done. “You must be exhausted, Lina.”

You nodded. You could say that…

Suddenly, Shuri’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be right back!” she declared, taking off so fast that you almost fell backwards in Ross’s hand.

T’Challa frowned as he continued to stare. He already felt a tremendous responsibility to protect his people from outside threats… and now he had to protect you, too. He just had to. He couldn’t let you go back out there with Ross, it was too dangerous. Especially not after what Killmonger had done to you. There was no place on earth safer than Wakanda.

“Lina…” he started, leaning down to get to your level. You gulped. “My name is T’Challa, prince of Wakanda. I’m sorry you had to go through that with my cousin. He is… well, we’re trying to bring him to justice. I wish I had known… I would have helped you if I knew you were in that room all alone.”

You blushed. How could he possibly feel bad about that? “It’s– it’s okay,” you stammered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I–I’m fine now.”

T’Challa noticed the way you were nervously eyeing the landscape of the room, and he realized what all the lab equipment might look like to someone so small. “Don’t worry, little one, you’re safe in here with us. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You stared up at the giant prince. No matter how skeptical you were, his soft expression and caring voice were pretty convincing. He truly sounded like he wanted to help.

As quickly as she had left, Shuri came running back into the room. “I had some leftover samosas! I thought our little guest would be hungry.”

“I thought there was a strict no food in the lab rule?” T’Challa teased.

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Come on, brother, don’t be rude! You know exceptions can be made.” Shuri laid the samosa down on a mostly-empty lab table and broke off an impossibly small piece. 

She didn’t need to say anything to know what would happen next. The room fell silent as Ross slowly lowered his hand to the tabletop, teeth clenching at the tremors he could still feel from you. He hated that you had to be so petrified just to get something to eat.

You ambled off his hand, your hunger overpowering all your thoughts as you caught a whiff of the samosa. You had never smelled anything quite like it before.

You tried to ignore the heat of everyone’s stares, but you supposed watching you go about your daily life was like a novelty for them. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them; if you got the opportunity to just watch a human go about their day in peace, you wouldn’t look away.

You tried not to think about the fact that this samosa was almost as tall as you were. Luckily, the piece Shuri broke off for you was more than manageable. You took a cautious bite, as if it were a trap, but the instant the food hit your taste buds, it was like you were in a trance. In an instant, your food was gone.

The three humans couldn’t help but smile as you wolfed down your food, until Ross asked a sobering question. “Jeez, they must not get a lot to eat, huh?”

The Wakandan siblings exchanged glances. “Hm. I never really thought of that,” Shuri admitted.

“They must not have much of anything. Is this how you found them?” T’Challa asked.

“Yeah. Nothing but the clothes on their back.”

“Well, that simply won’t do.” T’Challa let you finish eating before once again bending down to your level. “Lina, how would you like to stay here with us for a while?”

You paused, and T’Challa read the apprehension on your face perfectly. “I know, it’s a lot to take in. And you probably trust Everett more than you trust us. But, you’ll be safer here than with him.”

Above you, Ross cleared his throat. “He’s right,” he admitted, almost painfully. “What I do, it’s dangerous stuff. People get hurt, or worse. And while I’m trying to track down Killmonger… I’m afraid what might happen to you if he caught you again.”

You shuddered at the mere thought of ever seeing that man again. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle it.

“Will… will I see you again?” you asked Ross sheepishly. 

His face turned red. “Yeah, yeah, of course I’ll see you again.”

“If we let him cross the border again, that is,” Shuri smiled.

“Oh, come on, you guys love me.”

You admired the way the three of them bantered so freely, with no repercussions for speaking out of turn or saying the wrong thing. You realized right then and there that that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

Suddenly, T’Challa’s open palm was right next to you. Somehow, you weren’t as nervous to climb onto this hand. It was soft and radiated warmth.

“Shuri, I want you to make Lina feel like they’re right at home, okay?” T’Challa commanded. He didn’t need to elaborate for his sister to know exactly what he meant. He gazed down at you and smiled. “For now, little one, let’s get you somewhere that isn’t a giant laboratory.”

“Th-thank you,” you managed. “I… borrowers, we don’t normally–we aren’t supposed to talk to giants. But I never knew… I never knew they could be so kind.”

T’Challa felt a warm feeling bubble up in his chest. “Well, I’m happy to break that stereotype.”

“I promise, we won’t let anything happen to you,” Shuri reassured me, popping into view.

“And if anyone hurts you, I’ll kill them,” Ross said, too serious to be a joke but just humorous enough to make you laugh. He shrugged when Shuri and T’Challa stared at him. “What?”

“Now, if you’re okay with it, I’d really love to ask you some questions,” Shuri said, pulling a tablet off a nearby table. “I’m almost positive all my information about borrowers is horribly wrong.”

T’Challa pulled you close to his chest. You didn’t protest. “Are you alright with that, Lina?”

You didn’t need more than a few seconds to give him an answer.

“Yeah, I’m definitely alright with that.”

[natasha-in-space]

ohhh I really do love how you write Saeyoung! could I request something with Saeyoung with an MC that has chronic pain/chronic illness and is worried about being a burden to him? I'd really appreciate it. >< 👉👈

"Hey, Saeyoung? Don't you... ever get tired of me?"

His eyes widened as he sharply turned around to meet your tired gaze, like your words physically burned him in some way. You felt guilty for making him worry about you like this... But, you were getting so, so, so tired of bottling all of this up for so long. At this point, you were too tired to even care, and this thought alone only made you feel worse about yourself.

It was a twisted spiral of negative thoughts that you were helpless to fight against.

"What are you talking about?" Clear confusion seeped into his hushed murmur, strung together with the growing sense of dread that was slowly making itself known on his deeply concerned face. He was worried sick, you could see it clear as day. There was so much stress on his weary shoulders as it is, with both Saeran struggling to adjust in the hospital and the threat of the prime minister looming over you all as close as ever.

And here you were just adding even more to the problem with your stupid personal issues.

A frustrated sigh fell from your lips as you felt your eyes start to sting from the bitter angry tears threatening to run down your cheeks any minute now. You were such a burden, and you hated every second of it. He should really focus on much more important things than this. "It's just- I'm just nuisance to you right now, isn't that right? I'm always tired, always too sore and painful to help you in any meaningful way, and all I can do is just lay here and whine about my own hurt to you. Doesn't that get tiring for you? You don't have to baby me, you know. I can handle the truth just fine. Just say it as it is and-"

"Stop." Saeyoung interrupted you before you could finish this ugly line of thought, getting up from his seat at the monitor and quickly making his way over to you. You pursed your lips into a thin line, feeling too ashamed of yourself to look him in the eyes right now, as you turned your face away, hoping that he wouldn't notice your tears that were getting harder and harder for you to hold back with every passing minute. He kneeled down next to the couch on which you were laying down in, cautiously taking a hold of one of your hands, before he spoke up again.

"I never got tired of you. Not even for a single second. And I never would. I love you Y/N... I love all of you, your body and soul. You don't need to do anything to be by my side. It's only thanks to you that I ever got to meet Saeran again. If it weren't for you believing in me, for you holding onto my hand and telling me that I can hope for a happier future with you... If it weren't for you, I'd still be living in the shadows, never daring to come out and seek out the truth for myself. You're amazing Y/N. You're the strongest person I have ever met, and I would never, ever, think that you are too tiring for any of the reasons you that just listed. You're not a burden for letting your body rest. In fact, I'd be very upset if you were trying to push yourself over your limits for me... I have no problem with you being too tired to go out with me somewhere, if that's something you're worried about. Your company is what matters most to me, starshine. You don't have to be someone you're not in order for me to adore you, because I already do exactly that. With all of my heart."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, shutting your eyes as tightly as you could. He was telling you the truth, you knew that. You knew that with every fiber of your being, but your stubborn mind just kept on trying to find every possible loophole in his words that could lead you to a different conclusion, like your life depended on it.

Finally, the first tear slipped down your cheek as a silent sob wrecked your tense body, making you clutch onto his hand, going against everything that you just said to him before. Of course, you didn't want him to leave. In fact, deep down, you didn't want to be viewed as a burden by anyone, even if your cruel thoughts kept telling you otherwise. It was... so hard to distinguish your true and honest feelings at times. Just like minutes prior, when you let this darkness overtake your mind for a brief moment of time.

You felt Saeyoung's hand gently caress your damp cheeks, brushing away the stray tears, and you leaned into his touch, seeking out the warm comfort he had always provided you in your worst moments. Next thing you know, he's already placing light kisses on your knuckles, making your heart flutter to life as you wondered whether or not you truly deserved to have such an amazing person by your side.

As if he could read your very thoughts, he seated himself on the edge of the couch, bringing his face closer to yours and gazing deeply into your teary eyes. You whimpered, not knowing what else was there for you to say. So, he spoke for you, peppering your entire face in loving kisses in between his words. "I can't say that I understand what's it like to be in your shoes every single day, starshine. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to learn. You will never be a burden to me, I promise you that on God himself. You are my most priceless treasure, my angel, my starshine, not a burden. I know that it can be... hard to manage these ugly thoughts inside of your head at times. But, please, rely on me whenever things get too hard to bear for you. You are not alone in this. You can tell me if I'm being overbearing, and you can tell me if you need any help. We may have problems... But, it's okay. Because I want to figure this out together. How does that sound?"

All you could do was nod, feeling more tears slipping down your cheeks at such a heartfelt confession from him. You had no idea just how much you needed to hear this from him. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders, and all you wanted to do was hold onto him and never let him go.

So, you pulled him closer, hiding from the whole world inside of his safe arms for a few fleeting minutes of peace.

"Thank you. That sounds perfect... I love you. I love you so much I can't even put it into words." You whispered, sniffing some of your tears away and trying everything you can to ingrain his promise into your mind, so that you would not forget it any time soon. "I'm sorry for being stupid..."

"You're not being stupid. In fact, I'm very happy that you shared your worries with me. It couldn't have been easy for you." He stated matter-of-factly, this time, placing yet another kiss on the top of your head. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

You hummed in agreement, wiping away the last stray tears and nuzzling into his shoulder. "Yes, please."

[peri]

suicide tw a little later in the post, kinda heavy, kinda long. sorry i just need to talk about this

i was on youtube yesterday while trying to calm down from spiraling, and before i could find a video i wanted to put on, a 9 year old video my brother posted popped up. it didnt have any more than 10 views. knowing it'd be bittersweet, i clicked.

i was in 90% of the videos he posted. we'd be playing everything together. gaming videos, of course, if you dont know my brother, he's a gamer first person second. but in a well-adjusted way lol. he's like, really good at every game he plays and can beat them really quickly.

on one hand, it was really weird seeing my old self, even in video games. my typing style, the name i used, my character styles, etc. on the other, seeing my brother, young and so close to me, typing slow, awkward... it made me smile.

he and i used to be really close. we'd do everything together. he ... looked up to me. he talked to me. these days we've drifted. we don't ever text unless its a birthday, and then its just to say happy birthday, no conversation. i don't think we've had an actual conversation since i left. but even before then, the last time we really talked was when i was heavily suicidal and opened up about that to him finally. this was in late 2019, i believe.

he was caring, understanding, said he's struggled with it himself in the past, told me everything. and he said he would always be there for me.

it.. broke my heart, one night. we were all drinking, and he ended up getting emotional but none of us knew why. until eventually he started crying and just calling my name over and over. "oh, [deadname].... [name], [name], [name].... [name]! [name]! [name]!" it ripped my heart out, and just recalling it is painful. i knew exactly why he called my name. he was scared. he thought i was going to kill myself, and soon. and to be fair, at that point, i thought i was going to as well. i didn't tell him that, but he knew.

i'm crying lol. no one else ever knew why he did that. but i did. he was drunk out of his mind, so i ended up walking him back to his room and putting him to bed. he made me sit on his bed until he fell asleep. he fell asleep fairly quick, as he was very drunk and out of it. but he didnt want me to leave his side, so i stayed a little longer anyways.

that was the last time we were ever truly close. i wonder if he remembers that.

during my visit back to texas last year, i asked if he was mad at me. if he was ever upset that i left. he said no, he would never hold that against me. which was nice. but it did mean that the reason we drifted was just... for nothing. i mean, dont get me wrong, we'd been drifting for longer than that, the last few years i lived with him, he stayed alone in his room most of the time, and i never knew what to say. he's always been awkward, quiet, anxious, so talking wasnt easy. and i guess growing up made that feel impossible.

he eventually got a girlfriend, after years of me questioning if he was even into the idea of dating and romance at all lol, and she ended up living with us. im glad for her, coz she really turned his life around. but it did mean that i saw him even less. he was occupied with her.

theyre still together btw. his first ever relationship and its been years. good for him.

but anyways... i guess all of this just to say i miss him. i never thought we'd drift. it's hard to think about. hard to acknowledge.

looking back at those old youtube videos made me face that again. he was so young. so happy. so enthusiastic.

he had no idea what would happen.

[ralburry]

OK BUT LIKE, HARLEY!SCARECROW WOULD HAVE A BACKSTORY THAT HAS ELEMENTS TO BOTH HARLEY AND JONATHAN BUT LIKE SLIGHTLY DIFFERENR

Like, had a shitty upbringing in Georgia leading him to some murders (he's still stable but still teetering between edges essentially even after what he'd done here), falling in love with am abusive person in Gotham that lead to horrific heartbreak which triggers him to fall the rabbit hole of becoming his Villain persona (Maybe he doesn't go by Scarecrow in this but not exactly, well, Harley Quinn if that makes sense). He'd debuted before a lot Batman's rogues, one who works alone.

Then, he met Ivy!Riddler. Eddie sorta just balances him out and helped him heal in some ways. Definitely one of the very few people Jonathan allowed himself to trust, even when most of the people in his life broke it a lot. A strong bond is formed between the two.

Whether he'd fall in love with Eddie is a strong possibility but he'd might deny it for a while, to afraid bout allowing himself to be that vulnerable again, which is ironic, since, his theme is making people feel fear (and make them feel his pain). Plus, he's rather content in staying friends (even if his emotions says otherwise at times)

It's only when Eddie tried to sacrifice his life for Jonathan that he'd accepted his feelings and make an advancement, knowing that yeah, this is a person I can fully trust to show, well, just bout everything he hides at that point. Jonathan would help Eddie recover and once he does, Jonathan would ask him out.

Idk, just, brain wanted to make a sort story for your character designs cause, again, THEY ARE PHENOMENAL (Also, you are correct to tag them as very hot cause holy- they really are)

holy moly this is so well thought out!!!! who knew thirsting after dilfs would b so well received

for jon, i was definitely thinking that whole thing where he falls in love w some guy who turns out abusive just like his gran EXCEPT in this, he hadn’t killed his gran just up n left one day, so this abuser would b his first murder (no fear torture yet, just something that happens out of fear + adrenaline).

instead of crows n all that scarecrow crap, i was thinking that his gran locked him in the basement up w creepy dolls, would constantly play music boxes (not on purpose, it was just her decorative style) and would beat, whip, whatever herself instead of letting the crows have all the fun. this would lead to the conditioned fear of dolls, the weird music box music (idk what it’s called), but also clowns, mimes, those nutcracker guys, things that look “doll-like” so he would become the harley quinn thing (i also have no idea for a name; i call him The Good Doctor™, but idk if that’s good enough since it literally tells nothing except that he is presumably a doctor). he doesn’t have the split personality thing some interpretations have.

he’d go all out in becoming a psychiatrist, burying the trauma into the depths of his soul w the help of hw and coffee, completely closing himself off to ANY sort of relationship w peers or whoever, and in his studies is where his obsession would start (but, like harley, it would be a more helpful-oriented interest, wanting to give ppl therapy so they would get better [to make himself feel better, i want him to b selfish about this],,, OR another idea: the obsession starts bc he is desperate to rid himself of fear so he doesn’t have to worry about becoming that vulnerable and uncontrollable ever again [when he killed his lover in a panic]). he would graduate the top of his class (bc smart jon is best jon), but his isolation from the students to coworkers would nurture his obsession since he wouldn’t let anyone in enough for them to see this unhealthiness to try to stop it.

this would spiral into Evil bc of his mental decline (uh oh…bottling is not good, who knew?) and the slow progress he is making in rebuilding himself. his focus would go from helping himself to simply bringing others down w him bc he will find it is much easier to break than fix.

HOWEVER in my head, ed is the one who asks first (i love overly confident ed n shy, emotionally constipated jon). i’d like to think his thing is love instead of riddles. he kidnaps loved ones from family, friends, to lovers and (through his awesome hacking and stalking skills) will do some kind of trivia w their deepest darkest secrets to try and break off any love (all broadcasted). he is trying to prove that love is not actually powerful nor is it wise to love at all (abusive dad trauma: used to b a great dad, until mom divorced and dad started drowning in bottles and taking out his despair and anger on little ed).

sorry there is not much on ed, i genuinely don’t know much about his character at all nor do i have the same love/obsession w him that i have w scarecrow…unfortunately, cillian murphy absolutely strangled my senses haha (i also don’t have a name for him either)

ur backstory was super inspiring tho, i don’t think i’ve ever written a backstory in my life before today and it probably shows w how all over the place i am haha

[oddree13]

Restless Year - Chapter 5

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

(Prior Chapter) (Next Chapter)

(Read on AO3)

Chapter 5 - Just Like Heaven

The music could be heard from down the block. Despite the shows going down on the basement level behind closed doors, the sound pours out onto the street. Judging by the way people are bobbing along to the beat, it’s more of an attraction than a nuisance, which makes Steve happy. Eddie has been worrying about this party for weeks now and to see it coming together warms him. 

But his warmth is soon replaced by amusement when he looks over at Suzie and sees the young woman looking wide-eyed at the wall of sound as the people milling in and around the entrance of Smash Records. In the past few months of living here, Suzie had only ever gone to the shop in the late hours to pick up Dustin from Dungeons and Dragons so she'd never exactly interacted with it beyond that. Steve is worried for a moment that she’s going to bolt until he hears, “Eden is going to be so jealous!” He can see Dustin mirroring his relief as he takes her hand to keep walking. 

The pair are dressed up like Atreyu and Moon Child from the NeverEnding Story, while Steve is dressed as J.D. from Heathers. Most of the clothes are from Eddie’s closet, and Steve still hasn’t seen what Eddie looks like, as he insisted on getting dressed at work.

“How was the store prep last night?” Dustin asks, snapping Steve out of his musings. 

“It was good. I got there early to help Eddie with some last minute set up, met some of his co-workers,” he offers vaguely, figuring if he tells Dustin more than that his friend will try to start something. His hope for Dustin to not catch onto something is short-lived when they come up to the entrance of the story and Steve spies the man who’d sent him into a spiral. He’d avoided a run-in with the man yesterday when dropping off decorations, not really wanting to relive their first interaction, but the universe decided to betray him tonight. 

“Bands downstairs, shop and drinks upstairs,” the man calls out, his eyes scanning the crowd as he takes tickets. But as soon as they lock with Steve's, his smile turns to wide-eyed recognition. 

“Oh hey Jamie,” Dustin greets, as the man looks between Dustin, Steve, and Suzie. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“Yeah, uh Eddie has me on openings most days now. Sad I don’t get to see your D&D crew too often.”

“But I bet it’s nice not to stay so late. By the way, have you met Steve?” Dustin asks, pointing behind him. Steve quirks an eyebrow, curious about what the burnout’s response would be. 

“Uh yeah, we’ve met,” he nods, and Dustin picks up on the nervous look in his eyes. Steve knows that look, it’s the ‘I’m in deep shit with the boss’ look, and Steve finds it hilarious that someone is afraid of Eddie not for being, well Eddie, but because he’s their boss. “I didn’t get to say this yesterday but sorry about that, uh misunderstanding, dude. Eddie let us know last week. I guess congratulations are in order?”

“Why are we congratulating you, Steve?” Suzie chimes in and not so subtly glances down at his stomach, which has him closing his jacket. 

“No, absolutely not Suzie Q.” Steve exhales in an attempt to compose himself. “Thanks for the apology man,” Steve mutters before walking past Jamie without purchasing a ticket. He’s owed that much.

The inside of the shop is dimly lit with graveyard decorations everywhere. The shelves and bins are covered in cobwebs and fake moss, with zombie and skeleton figures dotted throughout. The shop's sound system is contending with the noise pouring out from downstairs, and there’s a line at the counter-turned-bar. It’s clear that Eddie’s planning has paid off and Steve can’t help but be proud. 

“Hey big boy,” he hears from behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. 

“Holy shit, Eddie?!” Dustin yells before Steve can turn around. He wonders what has Dustin so worked up about when he pivots and sees Eddie’s costume. 

He knew Eddie planned on being Veronica from Heathers, hence the trench coat Steve is currently sporting, but he’d expected Eddie to be wearing the outfit from the last scene where Veronica is all bloodied and dirty. But no. Instead his metalhead partner is full prep. Steve’s eyes rake over the black cropped tank top that shows off all his alpha’s scars, tattoos, and his latest piercing. His eyes trail down to the blue tiered skirt, and tights, and are those loafers?

“Do you like it?” Eddie giggles, twirling in the skirt to make it flare out a bit. All Steve can do is nod because like is an understatement and he sort of hates that they’re in a room full of people right now. It’s not the first time he’s seen Eddie in drag - the Frank-N-Furter from ‘87 almost gave him a nosebleed - but something about this outfit is making Steve drool. 

As Steve composes himself, Eddie greets their younger friends, explaining his costume choice and that he forced Steve to be J.D. between the hair, adding ‘what guy wouldn’t want their fiancé dressing up like Christian Slater,’ before hopping behind the bar and getting them drinks. “Don’t worry Stevie, I’m running a tab for myself lest your precious numbers get ruined. Thank you again by the way, it’s been a major help. Now sorry kiddos but I’m stealing your mom to meet some people. Behave, drink responsibly Henderson, and Suzie I made sure the bar has non-caffeine options for you. Enjoy!” 

Steve manages a wave before Eddie is tugging him to the first of many groups of people Steve meets throughout the night. The introductions make Steve dizzy, but he’s unable to stop smiling. Each time Eddie would introduce Steve as his - his partner, his fiancé, his soon-to-be mate, and one time, as his omega. That comment makes Steve heady, and he nuzzles himself into Eddie’s neck, blaming it on the alcohol. He meets people in bands, regulars of the store, and when he finally meets Carmen, Steve pulls out the written cookie recipe they asked for from his jacket pocket.

Occasionally Eddie excuses himself to run downstairs and introduce the next band, leaving Steve to chat with whomever he’s just met. Luckily years of Harrington functions made him adept at small talk, but he finds himself not having to force the interactions. He keeps up with several conversations about music, and at one point he drags Dustin over to help him win an argument about Star Wars which thrills the younger man.

Eddie comes back after his third time disappearing to pull Steve away. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” Eddie whispers, and leads Steve out of the store and downstairs to the venue space where the stage is transitioning between sets. Steve figures the band coming on next is one of the bigger acts Eddie booked, but before he can ask his alpha who’s coming on Eddie isn’t next to him. Shrugging off the vanishing act he spies Dustin and Suzie in the crowd and moves over to them. 

“Do you have any idea who’s going next?” Steve asks them, before looking on the stage and blinking in recognition at the drummer. That can’t be Gareth, can it? And sure enough, it is. Eddie is walking to the microphone with a cat-like grin, with Jeff trailing behind him. Eddie hasn’t changed out of his costume but has his guitar strapped around his shoulder, shifting the crop top even further up.

“Good evening Smash Records!” he calls out, the crowd cheering in response. “As many of you know, my name is Eddie, and I’ve been your fantastic master of ceremonies for the evening. And thank you for coming out to our humble venue for Halloween 1989!” Eddie pauses for the cacophony to settle down before continuing and Steve can’t help but think he looks far too natural on stage. 

“We’ve got two more acts lined up tonight but what’s the point of managing this lovely establishment if I can’t put myself on the bill? I promise it’ll only be a few songs and then you monsters can get what you came for, but for now, indulge me. So without further ado, we are Corroded Coffin!” Gareth’s drumsticks count them off and they launch into a thunderous song that wakes the crowd up. Steve is grateful he’s close to the front when people start jumping. Not just for his personal well-being, but for the fact that he wants nothing to take his eyes off Eddie. Every so often Eddie winks or smirks at him, and if he weren’t already engaged to the man he’d be begging to be. 

The band lets song bleed into song with only a few pauses to say the title, so when Eddie stands fully at the microphone settling the audience down, Steve wonders what he has planned.

“Right, this is going to be our last song, and it’s a cover of sorts. You see this lovely man right here down in front, hello Stevie,” he waves, blowing a kiss to Steve, who suddenly feels all eyes in the venue on him. “Well, he may not look it at first glance, but I swear to you all he’s the most metal man I know. Though only in character not in music taste. Alas. But! Despite how different we are, this gorgeous, frankly sexy man has agreed to marry me. Little ol’ me. So, Stevie, this last song is for you.”

The opening chords don’t sound like anything Steve recognizes until Eddie begins to sing. 

“Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick. The one that makes me scream, he said. The one that makes me laugh, he said, and threw his arms around my neck. Show me how you do it, and I promise you I promise that, I'll run away with you”

The rhythm is faster than the original and the sound is rawer, but Steve is stunned to find Eddie Munson singing Just Like Heaven to him on stage in front of hundreds of people. And suddenly Steve is remembering a night almost two years ago when Steve was humming along to the song on the radio and Eddie teased him - “Careful what you sing Harrington, I might get the wrong idea and try to run off with you.” And now here he is watching that promise come full circle with Eddie on stage. 

When the last chord rings out Eddie swings his guitar behind his back and reaches to pull Steve on stage. As he’s being kissed, Steve barely registers the roar of the crowd, or how hot stage lights can be, because all he can think about is how in love he is with Eddie.

[heartintact]

Jordan’s assumption of being able to read her better than she believed was truly nerve-wracking, and if Marie had never been especially talented at hiding her emotions, she was completely unable to do it when the drinks in her system mixed with the fervor of their dark eyes on her. She’d never worried about trying to come off as a mystery, but the idea of someone knowing exactly what she wanted was terrifying, ‘cause then they’d know just how bad it would hurt not to get it. Deep inside, Marie wanted so much that she was afraid her greed could be endless. It was about being the best one day, not for anything as rational and easy to explain as hoping for fame or money, but because sometimes it felt like she could die if she didn’t make it. But there was also the need to be seen as her best self, never tired of that thrill she got when someone looked at her like she was the only one in the room, like her body could express a secret narrative and they just needed to pay attention. She wanted to be able to feel on a daily basis that exact sort of passion and promise she got when Jordan’s gaze moved down to her lips, their touch meaner on her skin, hips moving in sync with hers in a way that made it impossible not to feel their length pressed against her. The entire opposite of the shows they were used to perform together, playful instead of delicate, obscene instead of refined. It felt like crossing a line without experiencing any sort of regret. At least for Marie, because her partner was grinding against her one second and telling her to find someone else to dance with the next. It was sudden and rude, and it made her really fucking embarrassed. What was she thinking? She asked herself as she watched them leave.

Marie stalled as much as she could. Which, considering her obsessive nature and intensified impetuousness, wasn’t all that much. Just enough to get a bottle of water and indignantly drink half of it. She disliked that Jordan thought they could tell her what to do, but she hated that they were right about it. As long as it was something the brunette believed could be beneficial for her, she’d be listening. The thing was, playing with her on the dance floor and then dropping her just as easily wasn’t beneficial at all. And as much as she’d love to learn how to shut her mouth, her mind would just continue to spiral down until she solved the doubt that had formed in her. Fuck it, right? It couldn’t be so bad. “Hey, Li.” There was a little bravado in her tone, trying to call their attention even when they were alone. Not that she could blame anyone for not being outside; goosebumps were already on her skin due to the chilly air. “I think I’m gonna go now, but I wanted to check—are we good?” A bad starting point, considering they’d never been on nice terms to begin with. “Because if I did or said something to make you sprint out of the house, then I’m sorry, I guess. It meant nothing; I just wanted to relax a bit.” She stopped before getting too close, arms crossing over her chest. “And if I didn’t—I don’t know what that little act was, but if you just wanted to mess with my mind…” Then they’d gotten what they wanted. “I know we’re not exactly friends, but I can do just fine without the mixed signals and the fucking indecision… It’s really unnecessary.” If they didn’t want to be around her, then they could’ve just said no to her idea instead of making her comfortable and eager just to leave her like that. God, she felt stupid.

There was a part of Jordan, however small, that was so disarmed by the idea of being a priority. Of course they demanded that, especially from a dance partner. They'd demanded a lot from Marie, really, but for her to offer a teasing reassurance that anyone else would come second penetrated that permanent wall they had up, if only for just a second. It seemed that even in her inebriation she was learning them, figuring out what made them tick without being sycophantic. If only she knew how much hearing her echo their words, curse word included made a strange feeling swirl around their gut. This whole thing felt like slowly uncaging some sort of predatory creature, letting their real self shine through, without the need for covering it over with poise or irritation. Marie was fascinating. Beautiful. A talented dancer, a total fucking natural in the way that was infuriating to anyone who felt like they had to work for it. And Jordan had worked so fucking hard. Their entire lives, crafting themselves, cultivating the best of the best. Sue them if they found themselves a little interested in ruining the perfect ballerina image they saw her being painted with as she worked her way to do the top. The corner of their mouth tugged instinctively as she laughed, head turning to meet her gaze in a moment that felt heavier than expected. "No?" They said, voice husky now, a lump forming in their throat as they maintained that eye contact, gaze seeming to glaze over with want in a slow, lazy fashion. Again, blame the fucking tequila. Blame the coke, but they looked at her mouth and their mind blanked, just for a second, with the thought of leaning in just like that. They moved together easily, intertwining like it was natural, already so used to each other's bodies, each other's hands. Yet her fingers brushing the short hair at the back of their neck still had them drawing in a shallow breath. Fuck.

Jordan pushed it because she wanted it, because she was tempting them and they were pretty sure she knew it or maybe intoxication painted everything in a rosy haze, but their hips rolled a little against hers. Grinding against her ass was a dangerous game, but it came with getting to feel her underneath them, to hold her close and assess her reaction. "Think I know more about that than you fuckin' think." They said, voice still soft before their head tilted back and their fingers pressed harder into her skin, holding on, getting well acquainted with how she liked to move and meeting her there over and over. They swayed and rolled their hips again, becoming very slowly aware of the way their bottom half was reacting. Their cock twitched as they dropped their head again, lips just barely ghosting over her shoulder out of instinct. Anyone else. Had they been dancing with anyone else, they would have done it, but Marie... their jaw clenched, the overeager movements slowing. This was too fucking much. It was a mistake, pushing her like this, getting carried away. She'd asked to dance with them, she hadn't asked for more than that. She was still a freshman, still their partner and they knew how that shit got, when you mixed business with pleasure. Jordan hesitated, voice dropping to her ear again. "Dance with whoever you want. Shouldn't get in the way of your fun." The shift was abrupt, as was the way their grip on her, so firm and possessive, loosened until their hand dropped away. "Just drink some water. Don't need you getting fucking alcohol poisoning or some shit." They both knew she wasn't that drunk, but they still threw out the careless remark before disappearing from the dance floor. Immediately they looked for the nearest exit, slipping out of the house and into the cold night air.

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They go like this: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely Namjoon.

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

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

[projectcaramel]

Ambrosia (END) - Obey Me! Barbatos, Lucifer, Diavolo x Reader

NSFW Content ahead.

Part IV

"I just want to get laid."

“Lucifer!” you protest loudly, but Barbatos is already running with you in tow. “Barbatos, this is unnecessary!” 

“Try to understand his feelings, MC,” Barbatos replies gently, even as you pass through a long, dark passageway. 

“I said I don’t want to be protected!” you retort. “I’m a grown-ass woman, and I can make the decision whether or not I want to get laid by the guys I like!” 

“Those weren’t the sentiments I was referring to,” Barbatos replies, and you almost trip and fall into the butler’s back. Not quite. 

“Then what?” 

“He—and my lord as well—don’t want to have sex with you while they’re under the influence of a drug that makes them spiral out of control. To them, it would feel as if they were lying to you.” 

“That’s bull!” you complain, and light finally starts to re-enter your sight as Barbatos pulls you into his room. The labyrinth was connected to his room?

“It may sound ridiculous, but that is their honest feelings.” Barbatos chuckles softly, even as you shake yourself, irritated. 

“And what about you?” you challenge the butler. “Are you going to pull the same BS, or are you just immune?” You wouldn’t have been surprised if someone like Barbatos was immune to the effects of the dessert; he always was the most controlled one out of the three and the least likely to indulge himself. 

“Oh, no,” he replies, as if amused at the very thought. He faces away from you, your hand still clutched in his as he continues, “I’m afraid you’d be quite incorrect on either of those suppositions.” He finally turns to look at you, his chartreuse eyes brightly gleaming in the moonlight afforded by his windows. The look inside them makes you do a double take. “In truth, I should have locked myself inside a room and given someone else the key. Because...” Barbatos smiles sweetly. “Unlike those two, I know exactly what Lussuria chocolate does to me.” 

“...makes you hot and bothered?” you suggest, even as you feel Barbatos toying with your fingers in his hand, the cloth of his gloves sliding gently against your skin. 

“The reaction does produce an aphrodisiac, yes,” Barbatos confirms, even as he captures your other hand. You swallow nervously as he does so, mainly because you can tell he’s not joking about needing to be confined. This quiet butler... isn’t he the real danger here? The sheer fact that he’s warning you with such a sweet expression, all while silently denying you the option to leave, is concerning enough. “However, personally, the only effect such a drug has on me is exposing a part of me I normally choose to keep hidden.”

“Which is?” you ask, although you can already guess the answer.

“The selfish part,” he replies, still smiling at you. “And right now... I don’t mind showing you that part of me.” 

“I didn’t know you could be selfish; I thought that was Diavolo’s job.” Barbatos chuckles at that remark, and for a moment, you see something warped in his gaze. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re going to do exactly what the other two were trying to avoid?” 

“Yes,” he replies, closing his eyes as he smiles. “Come to think of it, I believe my lord locked me inside a closet at my request, but such a thing no longer matters.” Barbatos trails his fingers up your arm, against the side of your neck to weave themselves into your scalp. “Instead... tell me how you’d prefer it.” He’s nearly kissing you at this point, but he hasn’t let your lips meet yet, as if he’s trying to test your patience. 

“With me in control,” you reply, but Barbatos just seems amused by the response, and in the moment that you kiss him, you have the strong feeling that “control” is not something he plans on giving you. He wants to dominate you with a complete power over your pleasure. Wasn’t he supposed to be a sub?!

“MC,” Barbatos says, but just as he opens his mouth to say something else, both Diavolo and Lucifer burst in. 

“Goddammit, what?” you ask. “I swear, if you—” You aren’t able to finish as the three boys attack you at once with their lips and hands. Apparently, all of them have lost their minds, though you’re not complaining. 

And this time, there is no stopping. 

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