#not to be super cringe but i actually started working on a file the other day with like. voice lines... just random stuff he says

[ruvviks]

prev anon again, PLS talk abt nathan and tew more, I have a few tew ocs myself and I never see any other people w them

AUHH I WILL!!! he's actually one of my oldest ocs i'm pretty sure,,, properly introduced in tew2 because in tew1 he's mostly just doing background development work. at some point gets switched from ruvik's device to the new and improved mobius device and becomes lead developer for the union environment :]

and then for the in-game events of tew2 he basically joins sebastian as companion and he's also part of the team planning on getting lily out of there so the gameplay would still be exactly the same except there's an annoying little cunt of a man there with you ^_^

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.2

Chapter Two: God, I’m Actually Invested

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck,

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This chapter has hella fluff and super funny/awkward moments. See you in the next one!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

The shuttle hummed along the narrow roads, and you found yourself squished between Archie and Rebecca, who were already up to no good.  

"So," Archie began, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned closer. "How was breakfast with your roomie?"  

Rebecca chimed in before you could answer, her tone dripping with faux innocence. "Yeah, did Pedro enjoy the toast you so lovingly made for him? Or was it the Nutella that won his heart?"  

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as your cheeks burned. "Guys, please."  

But they weren’t letting you off that easily. Archie grinned, elbowing you lightly. "Oh, come on. You’ve been living a rom-com dream, and we’re just trying to get the highlights."  

Rebecca nudged you with her shoulder, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "Did he do the smolder? You know the one. The gaze that makes people forget how to breathe?"  

You laughed despite yourself, though it came out as more of a nervous squeak. "I don’t even know what you’re talking about."  

Archie gasped dramatically. "Oh, she knows! She definitely knows."  

By the time the shuttle pulled into the lot, your friends had teased you so mercilessly that you wanted to sink into the ground and never resurface. As everyone filed out, you clutched your bag tightly, muttering under your breath, "I’m never speaking to either of you again."  

Rebecca shot you a playful wink as she headed toward her department. "Sure you won’t. See you at lunch, Nutella Queen!"  

The chill of the morning air hit you as you walked toward the security checkpoint, clutching your ID badge. The sprawling Pinewood Studios stretched out before you like a labyrinth, its towering sound stages and bustling crew already alive with activity.  

"Badge, please," the guard said, snapping you out of your thoughts.  

You handed it over, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement flutter in your chest. Once cleared, you stepped inside, the sheer scale of the operation hitting you all at once.  

The first thing you noticed was the controlled chaos—carts loaded with equipment whizzing by, crew members calling out instructions, the smell of fresh paint from recently constructed sets. It was overwhelming in the best way.  

"Alright, team! Let’s get started," Jess Hall, the First AD, called out as she clapped her hands to gather everyone. She had a warm but commanding presence, her headset slung casually around her neck.  

You fell into step with the other production assistants, taking in every detail as Jess led the group on a whirlwind tour of the set.  

"This is the main soundstage," she said, gesturing to a cavernous building where scaffolding and green screens loomed high above the floor. "Props go over there. Catering is outside, past the trailers. And wardrobe is down that corridor—try not to get lost."  

Daniel, the head of props, gave you a quick nod as he walked by, holding a clipboard. "New PA?"  

"Yes," you managed, straightening up.  

"Good. Hope you’re ready to hustle," he said, his tone brisk but not unkind.  

You spent the morning darting from one task to the next—hauling equipment, labeling props, delivering coffee orders. It wasn’t glamorous, but there was something thrilling about being part of the organized chaos.  

At one point, you found yourself standing off to the side, flipping through the day’s call sheet. The sheer number of moving parts was dizzying. But when you glanced up and saw Pedro casually chatting with a director by the monitors, a soft smile on his face, the whirlwind slowed for just a moment.  

Your heart did a little flip.  

"Alright, focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as you quickly returned to your tasks.  

The rest of the day passed in a blur of movement—helping manage background extras, untangling a web of cables, even holding up a light reflector when the gaffer was short-handed.  

By the time lunch rolled around, you were exhausted but strangely energized, a sense of accomplishment settling in as you sat with your friends in the cafeteria.  

Archie plopped down beside you with a tray full of food, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "So, how’s your first day as Pedro Pascal’s shadow?"  

You shot him a glare but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "I’m not his shadow. I’m just… a very busy PA trying to survive her first day."  

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "Sure, sure. But he noticed you, didn’t he?"  

You felt your cheeks warm, and your silence only made them laugh harder.  

"God, I hate you both," you muttered, though there was no real malice behind it.  

As you took another bite of your sandwich, you couldn’t help but glance across the room, where Pedro sat with the director and a few cast members. He caught your eye briefly, offering a small, almost imperceptible wave.  

Your stomach flipped again.  

And just like that, you were back to square one—completely flustered and wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.  

After lunch, you found yourself tucked into a quiet corner near the soundstage, the faint hum of set activity surrounding you. Propping the script against your knees, you scanned the pages intently, trying to map out how the scenes being shot here in London would flow before the production moved to Spain. The script’s intricate details and stage directions blurred slightly as you tried to piece it all together, scribbling quick notes in the margins.  

“Hey.”  

The voice startled you, and the script slipped from your hands, fluttering dramatically to the ground. You turned quickly, clutching your chest like it might stop your racing heart.  

“Jesus, Pedro!” you exclaimed, your voice a little too breathless for your liking.  

He grinned, that easy, boyish grin that made your stomach do flips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”  

“Oh, hi,” you mumbled, stepping out of the way instinctively, thinking he was just passing by. Your gaze darted down to the script at your feet, but before you could bend to retrieve it, Pedro was already leaning down to pick it up.  

“You okay?” he asked as he straightened, handing the slightly crumpled pages back to you. He was already dressed for the scene, hair and makeup done to perfection, though you knew the team would fuss over touch-ups throughout the day.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your fingers over the script as though smoothing it out would erase your flustered reaction. “Just, uh, reviewing the scenes for today.”  

Pedro tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his warm brown eyes. “Doing your homework, huh?”  

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to keep up. It’s my first day, and I don’t want to mess anything up.”  

He studied you for a beat, and the weight of his gaze made your cheeks flush. “You’re not going to mess anything up,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re doing great. Everyone can see it.”  

You let out a soft laugh, though your throat felt tight. “You’ve barely seen me all day. How would you know?”  

Pedro’s smile softened, and he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Because you’ve got that look. The one that says you care about getting it right.”  

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were painfully aware of how close he was. The faint scent of his cologne—something warm and woodsy—lingered in the air between you.  

“I... uh...” You trailed off, your brain scrambling for a coherent response.  

Pedro straightened, easing the tension with a light chuckle. “Don’t overthink it, okay? Just take it one task at a time. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”  

“Right. Thanks,” you managed, clutching the script a little tighter.  

“See you out there,” he said with a wink before turning to head toward the set, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your thoughts in a complete jumble. 

As he disappeared around the corner, you exhaled sharply, trying to pull yourself together. “Get it together,” you muttered under your breath. But even as you said it, a small, traitorous smile tugged at your lips.

Matt’s voice cut through the buzz of the set as he called for quiet. The shift was immediate—crew members hushing their conversations and finding their marks. You moved to the side, watching as Pedro, Vanessa Kirby, Joseph Quinn, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach stepped into position. The air seemed to hum with anticipation as the cameras rolled, capturing the scene that unfolded before you.  

It was surreal, seeing them all perform together, their chemistry so natural it blurred the lines between fiction and reality. Pedro, in particular, commanded the screen with ease. His movements were deliberate, his voice carrying an emotional weight that made it impossible to look away.  

But then there was Vanessa.  

You hated how your eyes lingered on her, how that knot of jealousy twisted low in your stomach. She was magnetic, the way she played her role as Pedro’s onscreen wife. The way they exchanged glances, their body language speaking volumes—it was all part of the script, you knew that. Still, it didn’t stop the bitter sting of envy that crawled its way into your chest.  

Get a grip, you thought, forcing yourself to look away. This was her job. This was his job. And you? You were here to do yours, not to indulge in ridiculous fantasies. Pedro wasn’t your boyfriend, or your close friend. He wasn’t yours.  

You plastered on a neutral expression, the kind you’d perfected over the years, and focused on your work. Daisy, Lucy, and Omar were scattered across the set, handling their own assignments, while you found yourself helping out with props. It was tedious but grounding, giving you something to pour your restless energy into.  

“Cut!” Matt’s voice echoed across the soundstage.  

The tension broke, and the cast relaxed, the scene’s intensity giving way to casual chatter. You busied yourself with resetting the props, carefully arranging them for the next take.  

That’s when you noticed Coco Ullrich, Pedro’s hairstylist, stepping in to adjust his salt-and-pepper hair. She worked with practiced ease, her hands quick and efficient. Pedro leaned forward slightly to make her job easier, a soft laugh escaping him as they exchanged a few words you couldn’t quite hear.  

You smiled faintly, almost to yourself. Coco was excellent at her job—there was no denying that. And damn, did she make Pedro look good. Too good. You tried not to dwell on it, focusing instead on the task in front of you, but the image of him sitting there, that effortless charm radiating off him, lingered in your mind.  

As you finished resetting a prop, you felt a presence beside you. Turning your head, you saw Daisy, her eyebrows raised and a knowing grin tugging at her lips. “Caught you staring,” she teased under her breath.  

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I wasn’t staring.”  

“Sure,” she said with a soft laugh. “Totally believable.”  

“Shouldn’t you be working?” you shot back, trying to steer the conversation away from yourself.  

Daisy only shrugged, her grin widening. “I am. Observing human behavior is part of the job.”  

You huffed, but there was no real malice in it. “Get out of here, Daisy.”  

She winked before walking off, leaving you standing there, your thoughts once again circling back to Pedro.  

Professional, you reminded yourself. Keep it professional. But the traitorous smile pulling at your lips made you wonder how long you could keep up the facade.  

By the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on you and the rest of the crew. The once-bustling set now buzzed with the quieter sounds of people packing up equipment, stifled yawns, and the occasional joke shared among friends.  

Daisy and Omar were tugging at a heavy camera dolly, grunting dramatically like it weighed a ton, though it clearly didn’t. “Are we sure this thing isn’t secretly an ancient artifact?” Omar huffed.  

“Definitely cursed,” Daisy deadpanned, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.  

You laughed, stepping in to help steady the dolly as they maneuvered it into place. “If it starts glowing, I’m out of here.”  

“Deal,” Daisy said, winking. “But you’re buying snacks if we survive.”  

With everything finally put away, Lucy tossed an arm around your shoulder. “We’re heading to the shuttle now. Don’t take too long, or we’re leaving you behind.”  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, giving her a tired smile.  

As they made their way toward the bus, you stayed behind to gather your things, your movements slower now that the adrenaline of the day had worn off. You double-checked your clipboard, tucked your pen into your bag, and clocked out, ready to head to the shuttle when you heard it—your name, carried over the cool night air.  

You froze, frowning slightly as you turned toward the source. The voice was unmistakable, even from a distance. Pedro.  

He was standing near the trailers, surrounded by his castmates and friends. Vanessa was there, laughing at something Joseph said. Ebon stood casually with a coffee cup in hand, and Coco was still fussing with Pedro’s hair, though it seemed like more of a friendly habit than a professional necessity at this point.  

Pedro’s eyes were on you, a warm smile stretching across his face as he called out again, “Hey! Come here! I’ve got some people I want you to meet!”  

Your eyes widened in shock, your mind immediately racing with possibilities. He means someone else, right? You turned your head slightly, glancing behind you, half-expecting someone else to step forward. But there was no one.  

You pointed at yourself, mouthing, Me?  

Pedro nodded, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you! Come on!”  

Your stomach flipped. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You stood there, gaping for a moment before realizing you couldn’t exactly ignore him. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and started walking toward the group, your palms inexplicably sweaty despite the crisp evening air.  

As you got closer, the chatter among the group quieted slightly, their attention shifting toward you. Pedro’s gaze didn’t waver, and it was both reassuring and unnerving.  

“Hey, everyone,” Pedro said as you arrived, his tone casual but full of warmth. “This is the PA I was telling you about. She’s been a lifesaver on set today.”  

Your cheeks burned, and you glanced down at your bag, gripping it tighter. “Oh, uh, I’m just doing my job,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Vanessa smiled at you, her expression kind. “Pedro’s been singing your praises all day. It’s nice to finally meet you.”  

Your heart stuttered. Singing my praises? You glanced at Pedro, who shrugged nonchalantly, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him.  

“You’re really making me look good here,” you said quietly, trying to keep your tone light, though your nerves were anything but.  

Pedro chuckled, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “You don’t need my help with that.” 

And just like that, your stomach flipped again, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. 

“So, um, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice steadier than you expected, though your nerves still lingered just beneath the surface.  

Pedro tilted his head toward you, his grin softening into something more casual. “Well, we were just talking, and I had an idea. Since we’re heading back to the same place and you’re my roommate, why not ride with us? It’d save you time, and you wouldn’t have to deal with being the last one dropped off on the other shuttle.”  

You blinked at him, your mind racing to catch up. “Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said quickly, shaking your head.  

Before Pedro could respond, Vanessa waved her hand dismissively. “Impose? Please, it’s not imposing. You’re coming with us. No arguments.”  

Joseph chimed in, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Yeah, you’ll make our little carpool a lot more fun. Pedro can’t keep us entertained on his own, you know.”  

“Hey!” Pedro protested with mock indignation, his hand resting dramatically over his heart.  

Ebon smirked. “He’s right, though. You’d be doing us all a favor.”  

Your cheeks warmed under their collective encouragement, and you couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t know…”  

Coco stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. We’ve got room, and it makes sense. Plus, Pedro already vouched for you.”  

You glanced at Pedro, whose expression was a mix of amusement and something else—something softer. His eyes met yours, and the look he gave you was so earnest it nearly knocked the breath out of you.  

“See? Everyone’s on board,” Pedro said, his tone coaxing but playful. “It’s settled.”  

Still hesitant, you glanced at the group again, their smiles and easy camaraderie somehow making you feel like you belonged. Finally, you exhaled and nodded. “Okay, fine. If you’re sure I’m not a burden…”  

“You? A burden?” Vanessa said, laughing. “Girl, please.”  

Pedro grinned, clearly satisfied with the outcome. “Great. Let’s get going, then.”  

As the group began moving toward the car, you found yourself walking next to Pedro. Your nerves hadn’t completely settled, but there was something about the way he glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a barely contained smile, that made you feel a little lighter.  

“You okay?” he asked quietly, just for you to hear.  

You nodded, the corners of your own lips curving upward despite yourself. “Yeah, I think so.”  

“Good,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Because you’re gonna have a great time with us. Promise.”  

And for a moment, you let yourself believe him.

The large black van hummed softly as you climbed in, sliding into the seat by the window. Pedro followed closely behind and settled beside you, his arm brushing yours in the close quarters. You murmured a polite greeting to the driver, Luis, who nodded warmly in return, his easy smile a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of emotions currently swirling inside you.  

As the rest of the cast filled the van with their chatter and laughter, you sat rigidly, your back pressed against the seat. The reality of sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Pedro—and a group of celebrities you’d only ever admired from afar—was almost too much. You gripped your phone tightly, the faint glow illuminating your slightly shaky fingers as you sent a quick text to your friends:  

You: "Don’t wait for me. Got a ride with Pedro and the cast." 

The group chat exploded almost instantly, messages popping up one after the other:  

"WHAT?! 😳" 

"OOOOOHHHHHH" 

"Pics or it didn’t happen!"

You barely had time to cringe at their excitement before Pedro shifted beside you, leaning just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.  

“Group chat drama?” he teased, his voice low and amused.  

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly locked your phone, clutching it tightly in your lap. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, staring determinedly out the window.  

Pedro chuckled softly, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to press. “Sure, nothing.”  

You said nothing in return, choosing instead to focus on the passing streetlights outside. They blurred together, golden streaks in the night, as the van glided smoothly through the London streets. The gentle hum of the engine and the occasional burst of laughter from the group provided a soundtrack to your inner turmoil.  

Every nerve in your body was acutely aware of Pedro’s presence beside you—the way his shoulder occasionally bumped yours when the van turned, the warmth radiating from him despite the evening chill. You wanted to relax, to laugh along with everyone else, but the overwhelming awareness of where you were and who you were with kept your pulse racing.  

“You okay over there?” Pedro asked softly, his tone laced with concern now, his earlier teasing gone.  

You glanced at him, startled by the question, and saw his brow furrowed slightly, his gaze steady and sincere.  

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, offering a small, tight smile.  

Pedro didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “You sure? You look like you’re about to bolt out of here any second.”  

That earned a genuine laugh from you, albeit a quiet one. “I’m just... not used to this, I guess.”  

“This?”  

You gestured vaguely to the van, the people around you, and finally, to him. “All of this.”  

Pedro smiled, a slow, disarming smile that softened his whole face. “You’ll get used to it. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure to keep you grounded.”  

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, if only slightly. The streetlights outside continued to blur, but now, your focus lingered on the quiet presence beside you—the warmth, the humor, and the unspoken reassurance he offered without even trying.  

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The hotel restaurant buzzed softly with the hum of conversations and the faint clinking of cutlery against plates. The warm, golden light illuminated the room, casting everything in an inviting glow. You had planned to make a quiet escape after dropping your bag off in your room, hoping to have a solitary dinner away from the star-studded company you had spent the day with. But Pedro had other plans.  

You’d barely made it three steps toward the elevators when you felt a familiar warmth against the small of your back. “Not so fast,” Pedro murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned just slightly into your ear.  

“Pedro, I—” you began, only to be met with his wide, unapologetic grin.  

“Come on, you can’t bail on us now. We’re starving, and it wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said, his hand gently guiding you toward the restaurant where the others were already gathering.  

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his voice, paired with the warmth of his touch, left you little room to argue. “Fine,” you sighed, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed how little resistance you’d actually put up.  

The long wooden table in the center of the restaurant was filled with chatter and laughter by the time you arrived. Joseph and Ebon were in the middle of some animated story, Vanessa leaned in with a knowing smirk, and Coco was shaking her head with an exasperated smile. When Pedro led you to an empty seat beside him, all eyes turned toward you.  

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Vanessa said, her tone teasing but not unkind.  

“Had to drag her here,” Pedro chimed in, his grin making the table erupt in laughter.  

You sank into the seat, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t trying to escape,” you lied unconvincingly.  

“Sure, sure,” Joseph teased, winking at you from across the table. “Pedro’s got a sixth sense for these things, doesn’t he?”  

“Like a bloodhound,” Ebon added, making everyone laugh again.  

Despite your initial nerves, the warmth of the group quickly put you at ease. The conversation flowed effortlessly, ranging from behind-the-scenes mishaps to favorite restaurants in London. At one point, Vanessa and Coco started playfully debating whether Pedro’s hair looked better tousled or slicked back for the shoot, dragging you into the conversation.  

“Well?” Vanessa asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What do you think?”  

You nearly choked on your water. “Oh, I, um...” You glanced at Pedro, who was leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying your discomfort.  

“Go on,” he prompted, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I can take it.”  

Finally, you sighed, trying to suppress your smile. “Tousled,” you admitted, earning a triumphant cheer from Vanessa and Coco.  

Pedro mock-gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Betrayed! By my own roommate, no less.”  

“Hey, she’s got taste,” Joseph said, raising his glass in a toast to you.  

The playful banter continued, and by the time the entrees arrived, you were fully immersed in the group’s easy camaraderie. Pedro made sure to refill your glass whenever it was low and nudged the breadbasket toward you without a word when he noticed you eyeing it.  

At one point, you caught him watching you as you laughed at something Joseph said. His expression was soft, fond, like he was memorizing the way you looked in that moment. You tried to ignore the way your heart skipped, focusing instead on the warmth of the room and the laughter surrounding you.  

When the desserts arrived—indulgent, towering plates of tiramisu and molten chocolate cake—you couldn’t help but sigh contentedly. “Okay, I’ll admit it,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “This was better than eating alone.”  

Pedro’s grin was slow and knowing. “Told you so.”  

The night stretched on, and by the time the group began to disperse, your cheeks ached from smiling so much. As you stood to leave, Pedro fell into step beside you, his hand once again finding the small of your back.  

“See? Not so bad being part of the group, is it?” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.  

You glanced up at him, your heart fluttering at the closeness. “No,” you admitted with a shy smile. “Not bad at all.”  

After dinner, the group, full from good food and endless laughter, made their way to the elevator. One by one, everyone headed off to their respective floors, each exit marked with cheerful goodnights and playful teasing.

“You two behave!” Vanessa teased as she stepped off on her floor, her smirk lingering even as the doors slid shut behind her.

The elevator continued its ascent, and soon enough, it was just you and Pedro left. The quiet settled between you, comfortable but charged, the kind that made you hyperaware of every breath, every shift.

“Guess it’s just us,” Pedro said, his voice warm, his eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint.

“Guess so,” you replied softly, clutching the strap of your bag tighter.

When the elevator dinged on your floor, Pedro followed you out. It wasn’t unusual at this point—you were, after all, sharing a room—but somehow, tonight, the knowledge made your chest tighten. You fumbled for your keycard as you both walked down the hallway, your steps in sync.

“Still weird sharing a room with me?” Pedro asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

You shot him a look, trying to hide your flustered state. “Not weird,” you said, unlocking the door. “Just... different.”

He grinned as you pushed the door open, stepping aside to let him in first. “Different how?”

“Different as in, I don’t usually share my personal space with someone famous,” you quipped, hoping to steer the conversation away from the real answer—how utterly nerve-wracking it was to be so close to him.

Pedro chuckled, tossing his jacket onto the back of the chair in the common area. “Relax, I’m not that famous,” he teased, kicking off his shoes as he settled onto the couch with the ease of someone used to this.

You scoffed, setting your bag down on the small dining table near the kitchenette. “Says the guy whose face is plastered all over my TikTok For You page.”

He paused mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Oh, really? Your For You page?”

You groaned, regretting saying anything. “Don’t get a big head about it,” you muttered, trying to sound casual as you rifled through your bag for your phone charger.

“Oh, this is rich,” he said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “What kind of edits are we talking about? Romantic montages? Thirst traps? Tell me everything.”

You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes. “I’m not feeding your ego, Pedro.”

But he was already grinning like a kid at Christmas. “You definitely watch them,” he teased. “Don’t lie—I can see it all over your face.”

You tried to glare, but the warmth in his tone made it impossible. “I’m not talking about this,” you said firmly, grabbing your charger and heading toward your room in the suite.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he called after you. “But I know.”

Shaking your head, you plugged in your phone on the nightstand. The suite was nice—two separate bedrooms connected by the shared living space. But even with the privacy of your room, the knowledge that Pedro was just a few steps away left you feeling... unsettled in the best way.

When you reentered the common area, Pedro was stretched out on the couch, flipping idly through TV channels. He glanced up when you walked in, his grin softening into something warmer.

“Just Pedro,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You hesitated, sitting down on the armchair across from him. “It’s just... you say it like it’s supposed to make things easier. Like, ‘I’m just Pedro.’ But it doesn’t. It makes things harder.”

Pedro sat up then, his attention fully on you. “Harder how?”

Your hands twisted in your lap, nervous but too deep in it now to stop. “Because it makes it harder to pretend this isn’t a big deal. Sharing a space like this with you.”

The room fell quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater. Pedro’s expression softened, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Good,” he said simply, his voice warm and steady. “Because I don’t want you to pretend.”

You blinked, your heart racing at his words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like this,” he replied, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I like having you here. Even if it’s... different.”

Your lips parted, a response on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out. The way he looked at you—steady, unguarded—made your chest ache.

“Me too,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible.

Pedro leaned back with a satisfied grin, the tension easing as he grabbed the remote again. “Well, since we’re both stuck here, how about a movie before bed?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Fine. But nothing loud or action-packed. I need calm.”

“Deal,” he said, smirking as he flipped through the channels. “But if I fall asleep halfway through, it’s your fault.”

And just like that, the weight in the room lifted, replaced by something quieter, something softer. The shared space between you felt a little less daunting, a little more like something you could both hold onto—whatever this was, whatever it could be.

End Notes:

Ya'll apparently like this fic! Thank you so much for the support huhu T^T

I’d like to give a shout out to google and reddit for aiding me in my research for this fic LMAO

I know little to nothing when it comes to production. I know the basic stuff cause of my course. (We had a class on how to plan events and stuff. I figured it’s somewhat similar.)

I’m having a blast coming up with possible scenarios with these two, the possibilities rn seem endless.

Based on research and testimonies from people who have worked with Pedro, they all mention how down-to-earth he is and how he cares for everyone on set and tries his best to know the crew. What a sweetheart 🥹🤍

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03

[sceletaflores]

i’m so obsessed with crimson (not a cringe name at all!) and logan!!!

pls tell us more about crimson and her backstory! and her mutation! thanks baby!!!

wtf oh em gee anon ofc i’d love to chat about her!

for her mutation, she’s basically a blood bender, but with some extra stuff cause i thought just blood bending was a little boring lmao. i'm not the best at explaining things, so hopefully this isn’t all over the place.

in my head, she can manipulate blood that's both inside and outside of the body. she can sort of "possess" peoples bodies by either ingesting their blood or by blood-to-blood contact. if it has a blood stream, she can take it over. it’s not only limited to just the living either, corpses that still have blood in their bodies are easiest for her to manipulate.

she refrains from ever ingesting blood in fear of looking too scary, she only learned and honed the blood-to-blood contact method working with charles and hank. she can also use her own blood (other peoples as well but once again, she doesn't really want to come off as scary) as a weapon by manipulating it into sharp objects once it's spilled.

she hardly possesses living people because it takes a huge toll on her physically and it's still a little too hard for her to execute safely.

i even toyed with the idea of her being able to like...ingest a mutants ability. not forever, but if she takes enough blood from them she can retain a watered down, weaker version of whatever ability they may have for a short period of time, but i'm not so sure about making it 'canon' in my own little universe.

one cause it’s a super similar trait to rogue and two cause i obviously want her abilities to be interesting and powerful in a way, but i don't want to make her too op or a sort of mary sue type character. it's so icky reading ocs that are written to be the strongest mutant ever that body jean and magneto and everyone else under the sun. i don't ever want to give that vibe with this lol please let me know if i do don't spare my feelings like is this cool or is it too extra...

okay so what i have in my head in terms of a backstory is very chaotic and not really fully fledged in any way shape or form! the main idea i have for her is that, as a child, she was sold to a mutant testing lab by her abusive mother. her father left right after her abilities developed, refusing to raise a mutant daughter.

i know i very ominously mentioned the “scientists” and the “experiments” in afilav sort of in passing, but just know she was a mutant before she was tested on! the experiments only affected her mutation. that’s why she reacts more aggressively or viscerally to the sight and smell of blood. however, her enhanced strength and healing are a result of her time in the lab.

anyway long story short she finally broke out of the lab when she was older and started to “work” as like a free agent for a couple years.

killed whoever wherever for whoever for lots of money. she never stayed in one place long. she liked being off the grid, mostly drifting from state to state sleeping in shelters, on park benches, in abandoned cars, but only until she was found by charles xavier.

that's really it! i'm trying to think out some more aspects of her that are only half-baked ideas so i won't bother writing them down lol thanks for the question anon! i had so much fun actually sitting down and writing this.

fyi: i'll be tagging all my content about this au and character with the tags 'to the bone au' and 'file: crimson' from this point on :)

love you!

[dave2olkat]

Some plot ideas I have for Gold Pilot (The Davesolkat Time Loop Rebellion AU):

The MAGE ~ATH code, aka, the thing that causes the time loop, can send either someone's mind or a physical item to the next iteration. At the start of the fic, it's about the 21th Loop

Sollux on Loop #1 got helmed. That's the loop were Karkat was executed a la Sufferer.

It is unclear how long it took Sollux #1 to develop the code to do that, could be days, could be centuries, but he ends up sending his conscience back in time for Loops 2 and 3. It. Was not nice.

So now he just sends this grub database instead! It keeps all the information without the ugly memories, yay

Young Sollux gets it everytime at age 13 and he updates and works on it through his life until he inevitably fails, gets helmed, and has to send the file back to himself, cue: starting the loop again.

A huge part of each iteration is "how do ii keep my friiend2 from kiilliing eachother help" because he's discovered that he needs ALL of them to maybe successfully save Karkat and the rebellion.

How does Sollux achieve this? Simple, by Sim Date mechanics. Sollux basically has a walkthrough on what to do to become super good friends (or more? Lmao) with basically everyone

This accidentally turns Sollux into the conciliatory quadrant town two-wheel device every. Goddamn time.

It's mainly because while he's like that with everyone he doesn't really ACTUALLY have pale feelings for any of them, so yeah, he's developed a reputation as a heartbreaker (diamond breaker?) And a player. Which he isn't! But yeah, everyone thinks he is.

In Time Loop #21, when Dave starts working on his ship with Sollux, this information is told to him my multiple people like "yeah Sol is basically a huge slut, watch out and don't develop feelings"

Somehow the fact that that's only for CONCILIATORY quadrants doesn't click on his human head so yeah, he just assume his guy Captor has. Slept with everyone in his friend group, yeah

When Captor starts "flirting" with Dave (he's not, he's genuinely just like that chill lmao) Dave just goes "aight looks like he wants to sleep with me too"

It takes Dave about a couple of months of basically living with him on a ship to finally say "you know what? Screw it, I'll do it, let's sleep together"

And Sollux, who is NOT that kind of guy actually just says "okay? My hot human captain who'2 s/2ort of my best friiend riight now want2 to have 2ex wiith me? 2hould ii go for iit?"

A week later, Sollux decides to do it because why not? Yeah he's got the most embarrassing GENUINE pale crush on Dave, but he doesn't do quadrants because he's a Human so yeah, fuck it, let's do this instead

Captor is a bit of a freak. Mainly in the "ii kind of always have feeliing2 for people in TWO quadrant2 regardle22 of what ii do, 2o yeah, that'2 also why ii don't do quadrants, ii'm genuinely not wiired like the re2t of y'all, iim weiird"

Incidentally, that's why he worked sooo well with Karkat, but Sollux fucked that up so yeah, might as well derive some sort of happiness from being Dave's fwb

It's kind of a Time Loop Rule that Sollux set for himself that he has to stay away from Karkat. You know, so he can stay objective and SAVE him!

Karkat always inevitably ends up with Dave Strider in most iterations anyway, they're sort of soulmates

Sollux is meant to stay alone and doomed

When Dave learns about all of this he's all like "what the FUCK captor how did you hide all of this from me, also fuck you man, fate doesn't exist and plays no parts on the actions of this guy"

They kiss and make up, they're kind of dating now? They're both cowards and will not. Ever ask the other one out because that's cringe.

Dave STILL is in love with Karkat though, so yeah, he helps Sollux on his quest to save their favorite person alive literally (Karkat protection squad amirite)

It becomes a problem because Karkat is literally the most wanted guy in the entire fucking empire

"can you maybe not try to dismantle the empire for a moment and let us keep you safe?" "NO."

Dave says "you know what? Fuck it we're his new bodyguards, between my amazing ninja skills and your insane psionics nothing could get through to hurt him, right?"

Karkat is not happy about it because he still sort of hates Captor (Dave helped them make up but. It's still an issue that Sollux, you know, slept with him and fucked off to not be seen in like, an entire fucking sweep)

Karkat is trying to do his rebellion leader thing but he has to deal with this two idiots who won't just admit they're dating lmao

I'm not certain how the three of them finally get together but it's probably because Karkat. Had enough of these shenanigans.

[amy-maguire]

Toga.. that's me. Chapter 1 - To See his Eyes.

(Note: This chapter was written well over a year ago. I promise they get less cringe)

“Toga-des! Or.. well. Hi, I’m Toga. Toga Himiko that is, and one of the super villains working with Handyman and his crew! (Also known commonly as tomura shigaraki, and the League of Villains.) I love them so much! Well, I think I do! Dabi calls me “crazy” and all that, but that doesn’t matter to me. Because as long as I’m allowed to be me here, then that’s enough.” The girl said talking into the phone recorder, her private diary which seemed safer than a physical copy. She often recorded it and then kept it to rewatch. (Unaware of course that the league sometimes looked at the files, but that’s irrelevant.)

“Today I want to talk about Izuku-kun!!” ‘Izuku-kun’ a name that often showed up in her diary videos as someone who almost anyone would notice she was head over heels for, once watching one of the videos. “Today I snuck over and watched him train! He’s doing so good with his quirk (or you could say super-power) and he’s getting stronger by the day!” She said, twirling some strands of her hair on her finger. “He’s so cool..” She added before her face seemed to shift to something a little bit more.. cold. “The only problem is that he was with Ochako.” ‘Ochako’ the likable girl who seemed to be just a little bit too close.

Well, it was hard really to tell what too close meant, because to Toga a lot of people were close to Izuku, even if they hadn’t tried to be. It was Ochako who just seemed to be crossing that line in her mind. The line that neither Ochako or Izuku knew was even there. “Ochako is such a likable person, I want to be just like her.. Because then Izuku-kun would like me.. Well everyone would like me.” her sad comment didn’t match her normally enthusiastic personality, this was something normally she would only bring up to the diary entries. 

“Ochako-chan..” She started letting the name roll out of her mouth like she didn’t like saying it for a second, with a tiny bit of spite. “Ochako-chan always gets what she wants..” She sighed and frustratedly stopped twirling her hair and went to kicking her legs instead. “So that’s why today I went to get some of her blood!” Her tone changed again, back to the happy one that seemed to always resurface around the word “blood.”

Her quirk, allowed her to take the blood of anyone she ingested, and she could turn into them for a short time. The more blood, the more time, and you can get the point. “It was actually really easy! I just had to pose as a nurse and she let me take all the samples I wanted!!” She giggled bringing about 2 vials up to the camera and spun them in her hands as her feet kicked. 

“So now..!” She started staring at the blood and smiling, “I can be like her for a bit, and I can get next to him..” She trailed off that fluttery feeling in her stomach returning like it always did at the thought of either Ochako, or Izuku, or even “mr. stainy” for that matter. “I decided that after I finish filming this! I’ll go and see them!!” She set one of the vials down on her blue skirt and then took a deep breath. “Shiggy says I can’t get caught though and he doesn’t want me doing it!” She sighed annoyed, like the thought of turning into someone so you could stalk your crush wasn’t a bad idea. (granted, that wasn’t what Shigaraki was worried about.) “Soooo, guess I’ll just have to be a bit quiet about it!” She said seeming to make her voice just a tad quieter as she said the last bit of the sentence.

“I guess I got off topic a bit.” She said, nodding to herself, beginning to twirl her hair with her fingers again. “But that doesn’t matter, I’m too focused on the other important things to stay on one topic for too long.” That's when she seemed to hear something, turned her head away from the camera, and smirked. “That means it’s time for me to go!!” She smiled. “So bye byeeeeeee!!” She giggled, ending the recording and turning off the camera. 

“It’s time, to go see Izuku~”

After turning off the camera she hopped off of the box she was sitting on and stretched. “Diary time is always so tiring..” She complained to herself, taking off the cardigan she was wearing and grabbing one of the vials. “I won’t drink it until I need to, I can’t waste a drop!” She said stretching again as she held the vial up. Then, she opened the door to the small cramped room that they all slept in, and walked into the main area where all the villains were gathered. 

“Toga, welcome back! Ew, what are you doing here?” Twice rattled off. “I just got back from my room!” She said smiling, evidently both sides of Twice didn’t bother her. He nodded before shaking his head and then Tomura sighed. “Do you need something?” 

“No need to be so rude~!” She teased, sighing as well. “I just wanted to say hi!” Tomura shook his head seemingly annoyed and Mr. Compress waved. “Well, I will have you know, I am glad to see you.” Toga smiled before remembering the time. “I have to be off somewhere!!” She giggled thinking of how easy it would be to infiltrate UA this way. 

“At this time of night?” Kurogiri, also known as the warp villain, asked crossing his wispy arms. “Yesss!” She frowned, “I have something to buy from the store!” She lied, but technically that wasn’t not true. Before she intended to go to UA she wanted to buy a snack for Izuku first. I mean, everyone tries and gives their crushes gifts once in a while. Dabi gave her a weird look, “Like what? This isn’t one of your weird impulse buys is it?” He asked, rubbing the burn patches on his face. “I-” She stopped making a frustrated noise, “I just need to go out!!” 

Tomura frowned, rolling his eyes, “Then go for our sake.” He said, wanting her to go leave. “Finally!” She exclaimed running for the door out of the base. “Be care-” slam. “Full..” Mr. Compress yelled as she ran out. “If she’s the reason we get caught again, I will kill her.” Dabi yawned. “It already sucked enough the last time our base got ransacked. Heh, if you’d really call this a base.” He scoffed, sighing. 

Meanwhile Toga was skipping along the alleyway that ran along the side of the abandoned bar, where they were staying for the time being. Humming a happy tune she slipped her hand into her pocket and played with the vials excited. This was her chance, and she was 100% going to take it. After wondering for some time she got to the exit of the alleyway that leads into a main road. “Disguise time~” She giggled, popping off the cap from the vial and pouring the blood into her mouth. Blood tastes metallic, blood tastes like love. Blood tastes... delicious. That was the mentality anyway, and so she downed the whole thing in about five seconds. Quickly she saw her clothes, skin, and hair fading into the resemblance, the exact resemblance of Ochako Uraraka, and at the same time, she felt the quirk that the bubbly girl had. Her eyes were now that beautiful chocolate color.

She now was Ochako, and she happily waddled out of that alleyway into a nearby convenience store. “Hello!” A tired looking college student greeted her, “Can I help you find anything?” He asked and Toga nodded. “I’m looking for some chocolate!” She smiled, pressing her fingers together in the familiar position. The cashier looked over and pointed towards a certain shelf that had many different types of chocolate. “That shelf!” Toga thanked him before walking over to the shelf and seeing what her options were. She didn’t yet have to get into the persona of Ochako, she could just use the body for the moment. (However, not without any precautions) That’s when she heard another familiar voice, “Pink cheeks?” a tall blonde asked looking at her, “Since when did you hang out at an expensive place like this?” This was a corner store, and the chocolate would have ranged from ninety-nine cents to 15 dollars a piece. Bakugou didn’t really take caution in pointing out things that could be considered offensive, such as the real Ochako’s broken financial state. 

“I don’t think it matters~” She chimed, not yet getting into the persona just yet. Ochako wouldn’t have responded that way and so Bakugou eyed her oddly. Once she realized she changed her personality completely, to try and reflect the original body owner’s. “I-I mean, I was just trying to get something sweet you know? I-it’s not too expensive here, no need to be rude or anything!” That was what she was supposed to sound like, nervous, bubbly, and adorable. Not.. obsessive and weird by most standards. Bakugou scoffed, “There you are idiot.” he started, “and I’m not being rude, I’m being honest.” he emphasized. Toga sighed, “Well, either way I’m going to get something.” She said oddly, grabbing what seemed to be the most expensive thing without a thought. While normally, if it was the real Ochako, she would have spent at least 15 minutes trying to compare the amount of chocolate for the price. But then again, maybe she could explain it away by saying that she was getting it for Izuku. At this point everyone had figured out that Ochako was in love, by Mina’s not so keen skill for keeping gossip secret. “Did you get a new job or something?” Bakugou asked, finding the spending choice odd, not that he really cared, but he could tell that something was weird about this. “No! I’m just getting something different this time. Something for-” Bakugou cut her off, “The nerd?” 

She turned away from him and her face reddened, she didn’t have to act out a persona for this one. She was really flustered inside that body, even if the way she expressed it was different than most people. “Iz-” she cut herself off, “Deku?” Ochako didn’t ever use Izuku’s real name, she had gotten used to the hero name. The name that the boy had changed from a means of being described as useless to something that represented a strong hero. Ochako admired that, but to Toga his hero status didn’t matter. It was him that mattered, so she adopted first-name status immediately. (Note, that in Japanese culture people often refer to each other by their last names until a certain level of relationship is established. By referring to Izuku Midoriya as “Izuku” she is trying to say that she and Izuku are close.) 

“Who else?” Bakugou scoffed, “he’s the only annoying nerd that I know. Unless you count four-eyes.” Toga sighed, “Well it is for him, but that doesn’t matter!” She exclaimed, starting to walk towards the counter. “So you're going to confess to him?” he said, point blank before seeming to be a little grossed out. But it’s not like he didn’t have crushes or anything like that. “Well, I-I don’t know about confessing!” She blushed, but inside she felt a bit sad. If she confessed to Izuku, as Ochako, and they theoretically did become a thing, it would be Izuku and Ochako dating. It wouldn’t be.. HER and Izuku. So, she just wanted to do small things, until maybe she could be the real her, or somehow get rid of the problem Ochako produced. 

“Not like he’d understand, that nerd’s always in his head.” He pointed out as they walked up to the counter and the cashier rang up the chocolate. “$10.99” the cashier said and Toga just took out her wallet and paid. She didn’t try to bargain with the price, and when her card didn’t decline, Bakugou looked visibly shaken. “Who’s funding you??” Toga smirked, “None of your business!~” She teased again, a little bit too much like her real self. “Now I have somewhere to be, so I’ll see you!” She said before breaking off into a joyful run leaving Bakugou stunned. Stunned, but not without doubts, or a pit in his stomach. He may not have been the kindest to them but he knew his classmates. And well, this “pink cheeks” wasn’t acting right. He briefly thought about looking into it before returning to looking for what he was buying. But the weird pit in his stomach didn’t leave. 

Finally, after a while she got onto the city transit and made her way to the UA campus. She had now been out for almost an hour and she had about 2-5 more with the amount of blood she drank. Of course, that all depended on how much energy she used and etc. Once she got to the UA gate she discreetly made her way towards the dorms. 

The dorms were added to help attempt to keep the students safer while on school grounds, but obviously they weren’t impenetrable to attacks. So, as Toga made her way into the dorms, no one suspected a thing. The real Ochako was currently asleep and so were the majority of the class. The only people who Toga was currently positive were awake, were Bakugou, Izuku, and herself. Normally Izuku would be outside training during this time, or at least that’s what Toga had guessed. Because from the times she had stalked him, he had always been training for a good amount of time. That’s when she spotted him outside the window of the dorms and she made her way outside. 

Once out there, she found him in the familiar thinking position and talking to himself, “If I can use one for all at 80% and..” Mumble mumble mumble, “So I should be able to control my quirk” mumble mumble mumble. He kept on speaking, or well mumbling to himself when Toga made her way over to him. “Hey Deku!!” She said, briefly catching herself before blurting his full name. At first he didn’t notice her as he was lost in thought, until he noticed the shape of a person and his head shot up. “Oh! Hi Uraraka! Sorry, did you need something?” He smiled and that made Toga’s heart melt down into her stomach. His smile was enough to kill someone. 

“Well uhm, I got a gift for you!” She chimed reaching into the pocket of the UA coat she had stuck it in. Izuku’s face reddened a little, “What for? My birthday isn’t around now or anything. Did I miss a holiday or something?” He asked, the poor oblivious boy he was. “No silly!” Toga smiled, maybe just a little too big. “I just wanted to!” She paused before finishing the statement, “B-because that’s what heroes do ya know?” She said that outwardly to fit Uraraka. She didn’t want to give herself away, but deep inside she hated saying that. She disliked heroes, she liked Stain. She disliked heroes but she liked Izuku. She disliked heroes, but she pretended she was one for just a little bit. Just so that she could fit in. 

Doing the same thing that she always had to do. What she had to do back in middle school so that her friends wouldn’t run away, or so her parents wouldn’t curse at her, or so she would stop being referred to as the “demon-child.” So being in front of Izuku, she wanted to just drop the facade and the body that wasn’t her’s, and then she wanted to say what she actually wanted to. “Hi Izuku~ It’s so nice to see you again!~ I missed you!” That’s what she would have said, that’s what she wanted to say. But she couldn’t. 

{End of Chapter 1}

[shoppingshoppingshoppingshopping]

What It Wasn’t That It Isn’t - New Album!

Listen/purchase: What It Wasn't That It Isn't by Local Teen

Aye yo!

New album!

So these tunes were started late 2018 early 2019. It took maybe 6 months to shape them into what they are now. Actually, lemme go check on that. I looked at the file dates and it looks like I started shaping these in early Feb 2023 so that's about 4-5 months. I have probably 100+ songs to shape up and finish so at this rate it's going to take me 4-5 years to where I am releasing songs I wrote within the past 6 months. I am getting better at making songwriting and production choices that make the process faster but change is glacial. Like I finally figured out that I need to carve out 100-150hz for the bass to be heard on the bluetooth speaker I use to check my mixes on. Usually that means I can hear it in my airpods which are not known for decent bass. Anyway, Let's move on. I finally got diagnosed with ADHD last year so if it's obvious to you that tangents can take me away from my original point then good for you for figuring it out wayyy before I did.

ok first song:

Living in a fantasy: This one goes hand in hand with another song on the album. I won't say which but they both have the same chords. I came up with a chord structure I love and tried it maybe 8 different ways. I kept working on each version until I ended up with 2 completely different sounding songs. I didn't make a conscious choice to make them different. I just kept following what it sounded like and seeing what my subconscious wanted to add to these songs. Even now when I hear them they do not sound like to my ears at all. The lesson here (and I am saying this to myself) is that you can completely steal from someone else and still make it your own. So don’t worry that someone else will notice. It’s not a ripoff if it’s coming from your nondecision making place.

I love the drums on this. That beat comes so naturally to me that I can play it reasonably in time with very very few edits to the drums. Unlike other beats where there’s a lot of chopping up to make it sound like a decent drummer is on the track. (I’m not a good drummer but boy do I love playing drums).

I spent a lot of time shaping these words to make sense. I usually hear a line in my head then lay it down and listen back. Often my first choices are so cringe. Like “will you be cool when I put up a fight” was originally “will you be cool or put up a fight” and that sounded super rapey. Then when I switched it to the narrator's point of view that was way more interesting since it’s a dude saying it. This song also was way longer. Keith tells me my songs are often too long so I chopped it down before I even sent it to him.

Also, I fucking HATE when dogs jump on me. That had just happened twice that week when I sang the line “keep that goddamn dog away from me”. It should have been cathartic but instead it's just kind of bringing me back to that awful powerless, unsafe feeling (I’m avoiding saying “Trauma” here because I dislike the overuse of the term in pop culture but this is the term my therapist uses and I think devalues its meaning). I often explore the bad feelings I have in my music. But I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make things feel better when they come up. But it’s better in that it’s out there and I can accept who I am a little more. And that’s a big chunk of what making music brings me is closer to self acceptance. I make what I make and I need to feel happy that I can make stuff and not feel bad that I can’t make stuff that appeals to more people or meets the standards I want to hit.

At the end of the song is a clip of my baby girl that I recorded as a drop for the how neal feel podcast which I sprinkled in I think one more time on the record.

2 tengo miedo - means “I’m scared” in spanish. And I do hate when people say “I’m not going to lie”. I get that it’s supposed to sound like they are being honest but really what I hear is “I usually lie but in this rare case I will tell the truth”. Also “tengo miedo” is more fun to sing than “im scared”. It’s hard to put some english (billiards term! And a pun!) on those syllables.

This song was not intentionally meant to sound like someone else’s song but by the time I was almost done I realized I kind of came really close to a famous indie rock song. I’m not gonna say which one. You’ll have to figure it out.

My baby girl sings on this one. In the last chorus she’s layered in with me.

Keith says I did a reggie and the full effect thing with the synths at the end. I dig some of the reggie ideas, never liked the sound. I was going for that Rentals/Blue Album B-side/I just threw out the love of my dreams kind of vibe. That’s how you do synths over fuzzy gtrs. The cars did it well too. Most every punk and indie band of the late 90s early 00s did it badly.

3 I dont care what theyve got on me: I recall this song coming together really quickly. Hearing all the parts as soon as the chords came out of fingers. The drums sound a little like samples to me but I swear they’re real. I have no idea how I got that snare sound. I must have tuned it in a unique way and changed mic placement. It’s all there on the track if you solo it.

I dunno why but writing about fraud and crime comes so easily sometimes. I love love love crime movies. Probably since Goodfellas had a huge impact on me as yoot.

Big homey Dov sent a voice recording to our whatsapp group and it’s at the end of this song cuz it made me laugh and I wanted to give you lay-down-in-the-dark headphone listeners some ear candy to discover.

4: I was watching a movie depicting an extremely stressful and lonely situation and it hit me: This is what my inner childhood body feels like. Alone, lost, no one to help, no one to protect me, no one I can trust. “There’s no hope, no love, no safety, no belonging.” Those lyrics just came out. There was no need to think about it. It was all there. In the pre-chorus I am saying “Coño” which if you google will say It’s used as a vulgar term for vagina. That is not how I know it or use it (or like it). I use it in the Miami way which you say when a bad situation presents itself. Kinda like, “son of a bitch” or “ain’t that a bitch” or “damn, bro!”. When I lived in Miami it would often get shortened to just “...ño” which, to you non speakers, you say with an extra Y sound on it like in “onion” so it’s more like “conyo” with a lot of accent on the “ny” the worse the situation is like a smashed big toe or shat pants or dropping your cortado on your brand new car seat covers.

5: round 3 with beth - I’m already running out of steam here writing these liner notes but I think I recorded the guitars and they felt like something I had done before so I chopped them up and came up with a new chord structure and rhythm. I then played them back over the new idea and layered them up. I’m about 60% sure of this but don’t feel like opening up the ableton session to see what really happened cuz as the saying goes “art is a lie that tells the truth”. I heard that quote this week and I like it.

6: pay me in guitars - I usually write music before melody and lyrics. This title came to me when I had to pick a file name to save what I had recorded. It’s a good title. I am saying “crack” the way Kurt does in Lithium with that weird A sound “Crayck”. That’s a nice lil nod to my teenage man crush.

The end was so hard to mix correctly. It was initially a crazy wall of sound that to me sounded awesome. I could hear all the melodic ideas in there. But when I took a break from it and came back weeks later it was just too much noise noise noise. So I cut most of that out and played up one of the 20 guitars I layered because I came up with some jazzy chords that sounded awesome. I don’t know what they are called but I know I’ve seen them used in Radiohead guitar tabs. You basically take the high octave and flatten by a half step. They’re sad and dissonant and sound best on not super distorted guitars

7: walts got a hernia - I think I stole these chords from a song my friend keith wrote. I realized they were a staple of pop punk and don’t think I’ve ever used them before. Also, for one brief moment there’s a riff in there that might be the same as maybe one of the biggest pop punk songs of all time. I only realized this way after the fact. Funny how the songs you love sneak their bits and bobs into the songs you make. I recorded all the guitars in one go. I had the session up on my computer (I usually have a song open at all times so that when I have to work I can indulge my ADHD and hit record and see if anything comes to me).

Story: IIRC Walt came over to hang out and made me touch his gorgeous man abs to see if the weird thing he was feeling was a hernia. After he left I went to the basement studio to probably check work email and instead hit record. All these words and vocals and melodies came out with zero forethought in one straight take…. As my favorite rappers say “off the dome”. And I can hear the difference in the melody and lyrics. It’s got spaces and fills and call backs I have never used consciously before.

I tried rerecording the vocals a few times but nothing ever came close to the natural laid back delivery I had the first time. I realized that what I had was actually cool. So it stayed and I made it work with some clever edits you can’t hear.

8 yesenia - I was listening/watching so much of the bodega boys when I wrote this. I was picturing Mero’s sassy Yesenia character and my desires to court the gorgeous and stop-your-clownin’ Dominican woman I imagined.

OK I’m all out of energy. I’ve been writing for an hour straight. The rest of the songs are all stuff I wrote for the How Neal Feel podcast. Why aren’t they all on their own release? Well I spent 2 fucking weeks prepping probably 80 fucking songs on 6 different albums (where I created unique artwork for each) I wrote for podcasts/commercials/shows that happen to be 30 seconds long or less.

So why didn’t they get released?

And now we get to modern tech platforms ruining art.

First: if a track isn’t 30 seconds or longer and you can’t get paid for a stream.

Second, they will not allow an album where the average song length is less than 60 seconds. So at the end of this record it had to go. I get why they have to do that but still. Fuck them. How about instead of a blanket policy you allow some carve outs for people not trying to scam the system by uploading 30 seconds of noise with the same song titles as other artists? I mean clearly this can be fixed if humans are incharge and not algos.

They would say, “there isn’t a single streaming platform that has ever turned a profit. Do you know the cost it would take to hire and train that many people?”.

I say fair point.

But then let me counter with: that’s cuz y’all made a shitty deal with the major labels when you set such low streaming rates that now kinda fucks all artists except the top 1%.

The whole system is screwed up and I get the economic realities the companies have to deal with. Hopefully AI can help automate some of this and a feller like me who makes music every day with an addiction like dedication can make a modest living from his art one day. “From my lips to gods ears” as my dad likes to say.

I honestly dream about waking up and having a solid 6-8 hours every day to make music in between bouts of building stuff, painting stuff, playing games and what not. And enough to live near a warm ocean with waves. I think I’d really like surfing. That would be just the greatest. So share this with people that might like it. The more listeners I get the more music I can put out and maybe one day this can be my full time job.

Jah Bless.

Credits: R and E sang on stuff. Dov makes an appearance. Keith gave me feedback. Trevor too. I played, recorded, mixed and did everything else.

[silverheartlugia2000]

DCXDP prompt

Ok, so there's plenty of Danny laying low or freaking out about the no meta rule, but I have this CRAVING of someone for once just explaining it to him? Like whoever bird or birds he's talking to just leans in and whispers "Wanna know a secret? That's mostly just a mind control precaution. I mean would you want to see Supes jacked up on fear gas? If the league do come over he prefers to be called first so he's close if something happens."   

Danny- "Oh... yeah that makes sense actually, that shit isn't fun to be under.."

"Wait is THAT why you have that string of robberies on your record?!"

"That and the time my whole town got possessed in order to make me look bad and get arrested.."

The bird then drags Danny into the cave to open Bruce's file on him, and they both sit down and fill in the gaps on the shadier spots of his record. Heck Danny eventually gives Bats a few thermoses and other less harmful but still disabling device blueprints to add to the contingency file cause even if Dan is in therapy and on probation he knows his shit luck will probably make it needed sooner rather than later and he knows how fast it will go bad.

It comes in very handy at the next gala when Vlad attempts to have a duplicate overshadow Bruce who refuses to take his business propositions. Vlad gets nosey before Danny pulls up his king rights and makes vlad take an Oath (the magic binding kind) to not mess with Bruce or his family or reveal any of their super identities to anyone at all. Constantine is there beforehand to read over the contract and outthink any loopholes before vlad can take advantage of them.

Danny gives them samples of ecto-dejecto for medical emergencies, the Bat's keep them refreshed and in stock especally after they meet Ellie and hear about her stability problems. With help from Frostbite and Danny's ok they start working on a more reliable formula just for Ellie's sake.

Yes Jason is calmer around the halfas and he is slowly stabilizing enough form a proper core from it, (not an instant fix this time!) whether hes becoming a true halfa, more towards a remnant, or both they arent sure. But one night when the phantoms arent around Jason is having a bad time, reacting from something he was hit with during a fight. Tim just grabs one of the ecto-pens on a whim and it just flushes out the toxin so fast Jay passes out. When he wakes up his core has had a good growth spurt, its still not complete yet but he's beginning to get some minor abilities, the Phantom sibs start coaching him before it gets strong enough for Jason to turn completely intangible and if Jay starts complaining? Clockwork whisks them ALL up to the tower for a home movie night of Danny's greatest fails. Grampa has a collection, good and bad XD. Yes Danny is cringing in shame while eating Clockwork's ecto cookies but Jason is slowly starting to understand the importance of getting the basics right cause he does NOT want to accidentally sink completely under the ground without being able to get back out no thank you!!

What core type would he get anyway? Shadow's like Johnny because of the stealth perks? Earth to prevent being buried again? Would he have literature as a secondary obsession cause obviously he's gonna follow Danny into the family/protection category but since Danny also has a space obsession why not?

He puts Jazz's name in the list of superhero safe therapists, the fact she's already making waves at Arkam is only boosting her reputation. Especially once they read her paper on ghost obsessions and how sometimes they are comparable to hyper-fixations in autistics in the way they both satisfy and promote healthy growth for a ghosts physical and mental state but also how being deprived of them or forced to go against them can be severely harmful to their literal health.

And that was one thing the birds kept tripping on to understand whenever they needed to bench one of the halfas but they would end up just hovering around NEEDING to be helpful no mater how much they are told to go back to bed. They also get a whole new understanding on what happened to Dan cause yeah his whole timeline is based on loosing his family and retaliating out of grief.

So from then on the halfas are allowed to help with little tasks as long as they do not strain their recovery at all. Whenever Danny gets sickly and depressed they take him up to the watch tower, Ellie gets lessons in different languages so she can interact more when they let her join them on international trips, Jason gets set loose in a newly discovered bookstore when the manor's or Bab's library isn't enough, and Dan.. they're still figuring him out but he seems to enjoy wrecking little play city set ups and games where you play as the monster like Godzilla or Rampage along with general ghost sibling rough housing. (Lilo and Stitch is his favorite movie but you'd be hard pressed to get him to admit it,)

As for ships, definitely anger management. Jason becomes an unofficial fourth Phantom sib. Platonic everlasting trio cause Danny loves his friends and they will pet him like a cat for hours while his tail coils around them possessively like a giant snake and still make memes of it when he's grumpy. Brain dead is fun also, especially if Danny or the others are capable of Little Baby Man form and Tim has to fight Damian for cuddle rights! Bats has his usual girls but hey superman isn't that bad to hang around either.

[vicea]

dream merch discord recap (june 12, 2021) - disclaimer: i may have missed some things or mistakenly heard other things, apologies in advanced for that!

he has not played the new minecraft update

dream “knows” the date george is coming to florida but he’s not saying it :p

dream doesn’t have anyone muted on twitter

dream guesses his favorite disney princess is belle

sapnap has seen dream’s feet before

he’s not actually connor’s dad in the dsmp lore

dreamnap do not have nicknames for each other D:

dream likes olives but especially black olives

his mother makes homemade pickles

he doesn’t have a phone case

he has dropped his phone from his ear onto concrete in the parking lot before and the screen didn’t crack

dream has six fingers /j

he pours cereal first not milk when making cereal

dream calls sapnap nick most of the time :D

what’s your dream car? “idk the one that gets me to point A to point B consistently”

he finally fixed his sleep schedule, woke up at 8 am today

mrbeast owes dream a tesla because he never sent dream the audio file

dream is a very analytical person - he thinks with numbers/data

creativity is one his strengths that he is the most proud of

3 to 4 years ago, dream used to say george looks like shawn mendes a lot, now he doesn’t resemble him as much

patches is currently sleeping <3

swimming is very relaxing to dream, he swam the other day!

many houses in florida have pools than other places, even the cheapest houses in orlando have pools

dream has merchendise defects (misprints on merch) + milestone merch and he wants to give them away to those who live in orlando (probably to anyone but the event will be held in orlando) though he doesn’t want it to be a covid super-spreader thing so once you pick up your item you gotta dip. just all an idea though

he has been donating them to charity too though :)

dream has likely read Heroes of Olympus before a long time ago

he says that he’ll do a give away of his childhood books with his signature on it

he was obsessed with the series (Percy Jackson) 

he really liked the Alex Rider series

has all of Maximum Ride books, 39 clues books

has read the legend series, the twilight series, and the maze runner

has all/read of the harry potter books, divergent, eragon

he would read all the time, to the point he would read more than one book a day (a book worm he says)

dream had a goal to read 200 books in a year and he wind up reading about 150

he doesn’t want to call it a library but- growing up he had something like that that had 600 or 700 or more books in it (privileged he admits it)

he has not read a book since he started youtube (about 2 years)

dream has a folder called Book that has his own writing in it

word count: 76000 words for one of his stories 

another one he wrote 5 chapters of

he sounds very excited/embarrassed talking about the stories he wrote he’s so endearing

the very first paragraph of one of his stories (he was young when he wrote this) “What exactly is darkness? is it the lack of light? is it a pit of nothingness? ... your mind is full of darkness...” then he couldn’t continue.

the story is about a kid who wakes up in a cell and has no idea where he is with other people who are in the same situation

dream has a world building document

he has a sequel to the first book he has ever written

he found a query letter that he wrote because he wanted to get his book published- he finds it very funny

he’s calling himself a nerd but idk it’s kind of endearing

“as you can tell i’ve always been incredibly cool and not a nerd at all! ever.”

he cringes at his own old videos

dream took a lot of inspiration from witches and wizards by james patterson for writing

the story is written in a way where the main character is actually writing the story so you’re getting input from the main character during it. there’s a lot of sarcasm in it and it’s making dream laugh

very first person narrator

he feels like it’d be very cool if he were to publish his works he wrote when he was 16 on amazon or something but he probably never would because he’d have to read through all of it and it’s just embarrassing for him

dream used to video call sapnap fairly frequently- even before youtube

he strictly remembers, a very long time (at least 7 to 9 years) ago he was at his old childhood house he video called sapnap. he was wearing a (technically) suit and he remembers specifically that he was giving sap a tour... 

“snazzy in a suit”

he had no reason to put on the suit (wow time is a flat circle huh)

drista is pretty close to sapnap’s height, she’s like 5′7″ but sap is still taller than her

dream filmed the whole thing when he and sapnap met but... it’s... gone because when he was clipping that one clip for twitter... it edited the whole video

he’s sure when they meet up with george they will film that too :D

DREAM IS PRETTY SURE THAT HE AND GEORGE WILL MEET THIS YEAR-- HE SAYS A 95% CERTAINTITY the five percent is like either restrictions or visa issues

dream does not play any instruments but he had a guitar hanging on his wall when he was younger...

dream is convinced they’re the same height but also sapnap is probably taller??

they had george compare his height to a door frame and dreamnap were googling for any doorframes to find any possible chance that george is taller than 5′8″ ... nothing came up

there’s a chance they’re both lying about being 5′8″

sap and george will literally just show up in stilts to prove they’re taller than each other /j

dream without shoes is between 6′2″ and 6′3″ with shoes he’s 6′3.5″

dream is talking about awesamdude’s fake height arc again LOL

dreamnap are very private people so they don’t bother each other but george doesn’t care and would just barge into their rooms and start bothering them- they were all joking about that over a voice call

he will visit europe

he thinks that greece would be a cool place to visit because sapnap’s family is from there :) so it’ll be like a nice “treat” to go back with sap :D

dream isn’t entirely sure that the dream team meet up will happen this year but he’s working out the details because he wants to make sure it’s safe

he’s talking to youtube about his face reveal

it’s up to george if he wants to eat healthy when they finally move in

dream just has a lot of meat and vegetables in his house

spinach with chicken is good

not much fruit (only apples and tomatoes)

“DRISTA IS 5″ is trending on twitter LOL (her height got cut off)

dream doesn’t want people flying to different places because he doesn’t want to encourage travel so he wants to do all of the meet ups with a two day heads up at most

he thinks that it’s awesome that ranboo and tubbo are meeting soon !! :D

it’s very cool to dream to see how far everyone’s has come since the beginning of the dsmp. everyone has done so much

dream finalized his youtube plan a couple weeks before he uploaded his video and he was talking to drista about how he was gonna be a big youtuber in a parking lot :”)

she was the first person he really ever talked to about it

dream would love to teach george how to drive it’d be really funny :D (a very good video or a livestream idea) 

dream knows how to ride a bike, he used to have to bike to school

he can’t explain dnf.gay he has no clue he is not responsible. sapnap was the one who found it LOL. he is adamantly exclaiming that it was not him

dream doesn’t worry about views/likes/dislikes a lot- mainly views but that’s for the new uploads

he hasn’t uploaded in like a month and a half (*cries*)

he wants to stream at some point but he doesn’t know when 

he wants to play geoguessr but not now... he doesn’t want to alt stream rn- maybe tomorrow!

he is insisting that the splash text on his minecraft home screen is by callahan

he asked callahan to send him bunch of text files that are dream team related so that the splash can rotate through it but callahan thought it was funny (it is) to put only dreamnotfound <3 so it doesn’t ever change at all and dream doesn’t even know how to change and he has asked callahan to change it but he said no (even though dream pays him LMAO)

the video referenced in the padilla’s video is still in the works, it might be handed over to sapnap though !

he has no idea if he will be in MCC pride yet

padilla got dream’s input for the video, dream found him to be a very nice guy ! :) it’s the first interview that dream did that wasn’t by a person with a negative opinion of dream

dream felt relaxed doing the interview with padilla 

?????? he’s blaming callahan for his “dnfisreal” nickname in bedwars 

he’s blaming callahan for a lot of dnf-related stuff

callahan runs the dream fanart account thus the liking of dnf content

he’s so insistent that it was callahan

dream admits that he was lying about the twitter and other stuff but for sure callahan did code the splash text in LOL

dream liking that tweet “the chances of george doing a hot tub stream is the same of dnf dating” was “funny” he wasnt trying to do any commentary...

the inside joke of “oh it’s all just a joke to you” originates from george and sapnap actually always fighting (like them yelling and shouting at each other) and george said something really mean and sapnap was hurt then geroge said “it was just a joke” and sapnap replied with that line and ever since then it’s been a meme LOL

he says that everyone does the hand-on-the-passenger-seat-while-reversing thing

dream is offline raiding with his chat with 6k people

dream appreciates us and will talk to us soon! 

[originaldanganronpascenarios]

Drv3 boys request. Best friend-crush reader constantly gets confessed to and hit on bcuz of their beaty and very admirable personality, but alway declines(cuz they like the boys). The boys want to ask out reader but is scared they’ll reject them like the others and it would ruin their friendship. How would they react when reader suddenly makes a big romantic gesture and ask them out instead?

I didn't expect the last part of this ask Aaaa that's amazing.

V3 boys with a crush that constantly gets confessed to... That confesses to them!

Ryoma Hoshi

Do you really think that he even thought of confessing to you? All those people he witnessed confessing to you made you extremely uncomfortable.

So there's no way that he's going to say it and be another person on this list. He's perfectly fine being your close friend. Actually it's more than enough.

It's a bit funny really. He doubts any possible feelings you may or may not have for him while you reject everyone just to be with him.

But it's not like he thought it'd be good for you to like him. Heck he thought that you being friends was a bit dangerous for you.

So even if you shared mutual feelings it doesn't really mean that he would accept it. There was a slight possibility that he'd reject you.

You were aware of this possibility, but you still wanted to try. You had to!

You had the flowers, the time and the place. Ryoma was a little early but it's not like you were possibly bothered by it.

He was a bit surprised to see you holding flowers but there was no way it could-

You turn towards him and give him the flowers. But the most shocking part was you asking him to date you.

He wanted to think that you're joking but he knew you weren't. His silence made you anxious.

"So... You rejected everyone because you liked me? Geez you have an odd taste kiddo" he joked still not believing it was happening "I might not deserve it but- I feel the same about you"

Gonta Gokuhara

It was a bit weird when people had the guts to confess to you while you were hanging out with him.

The fact that someone wanted to tell you something while you spend time with him didn't bother him... But the fact that it made you uncomfortable did.

So he wanted to help you. Picking less crowded places, trying to make you appear busy. He asked if you agreed for him doing so. The second you change your mind he'll stop.

But you had just the thing that would stop at least the ones that are decent and know when to back off.

And it's of course confessing to Gonta and if he likes you back your relationship will be official right away.

You didn't do it to use him obviously- you liked him for a long time and what I just said was a joke.

You wanted this to be special since he was special. You thought about your favorite places and found a perfect option.

There was a lake where you often could see lots of dragonflies. And although it's not his favorite kind of a bug this lake is one of the first special places he took you to. So it had that sentimental points.

When he showed up you decided to first have a warm conversation before you told him how you feel.

The grass was soft but not as soft as he felt when you told him this. He was overjoyed and did speak ever so slightly louder.

"Gonta would love to be with Y/N! Gonta swears to make Y/N happy everyday!"

K1B0

It took him a while to figure out his feelings... When he did things got a bit awkward for him.

He was scared to change things between you two... But he wanted things to change. He wanted to be with you, to be able to hold your hand, be the reason why you're smiling and to make you feel how he feels around you.

He didn't wanted to be like all those people saying sweet nothings out of nowhere, disturbing you and even being rude to you when you reject them.

But of course those things are something he wouldn't dare to do... He just didn't wanted you to think that he's like those people.

There was no other choice, he had to grin and bear it. With time you had realized and connected the dots that he liked you too and you couldn't be more happy.

Even though it was just a silly assumption the very thought of being with Kiibo just made your day.

Now it was time to make that thought into reality! And you had a silly plan that probably would work.

You were listening to music together- but between the songs there was one audio file of your confession.

While you cringed at the sound of your recorded voice he was shocked.

He didn't really believe what was happening so he asked if you recorded it. When you admitted to it he didn't really know how to react.

"I- uhm- I like you to. Sorry I just don't know what to say, I'm so happy!"

Kaito Momota

He was over the moon about his feelings for you actually, but he had no problem keeping it to himself.

Knowing how many people made you uncomfortable with their confessions he thought it'd be best if he waited it out and most importantly respect and ask what your feelings are in the first place.

He didn't really think when he asked if you liked anyone. But as he found out that yes, there was someone he was ready to support you.

Although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't jealous... Or angry about the fact that you won't tell him who you like.

He'd try to guess but he couldn't. At that point he thought that he did guess at one point and you just said no anyways.

You knew that with him you had to be straightforward. Of course he probably would be able to tell your intentions but it'd be ideal to let him know without having to worry if he thinks it's platonic.

So you were ready for anything even to bluntly correct him.

When you were hanging out he noticed that you were acting a bit differently and he thought it was becouse he was forcing you to tell him who do you like so you're trying to be cautious around him.

So he apologized for that and ended up giving a few hints that he might like you back.

It gave you some confidence boost so you had a perfect opportunity to strike, and that's exactly what you did.

"What!? It was me all that time!?... You could've just said so. I was worried that I'll never get to tell you how I feel"

Shuichi Saihara

He tried to pay no attention to all those people who declare their love to you. Some were flashy with their confession while some just told you about their feelings.

He was a bit jealous over all those admirers... Not because you had so many. It was because he wished to be as brave as them and tell you how he feels.

But it's not like he could easily admit to it himself. He just didn't know what to say and with each admirer he became more and more scared.

One day he just asked- okay more just blurted out the question if you liked someone.

You weren't lying when you said yes, but you needed some time before you tell him you-know-what.

So his any interest to confess to you was out of the window. But he prepared himself to support you and your future partner.

His question prompted you to step up and finally confess. Since he's definitely going to start guessing.

That was what you assumed, Shuichi didn't actually want to know who you fell for. He only "knew" that it wasn't him.

You decided to confess in a bit risky way. What I mean is: you left a confession letter inside a novel you let him borrow. It could fall out at any time!

You were worried this might happen but soon enough you got a message from him.

He would call you and thought a lot about doing so but he knew he'd be at loss of words so he just decided to text you instead.

"Do you really like me?" this was a sign that he did in fact get your letter.

After that you texted for a while but as to his feelings for you, he decided that he'll try to tell you in person.

Rantaro Amami

He never paid much attention to his feelings. So even when he realized that he's in love he knew he shouldn't say anything.

Looking how many people you rejected he thought you weren't interested in anyone at all.

Of course there were some people you considered strangers. But there were few that were close to you too.

And hey being friends with you was super fun. So why should he make things awkward by letting know how he feels?

You can't have everything in the world and for Rantaro just your smile was enough.

While he set his feelings aside you were preparing yourself to confess.

You decided to strike at a perfect time. The beautiful sight before you (other than Rantaro obviously) the warm atmosphere...

You said it. Without regrets, you couldn't stop yourself. He was a bit surprised but he didn't let you wait long for his answer.

"Hah... I don't really know what to say at a time like this... Can I kiss you instead and let it be my answer?"

Kokichi Ouma

He saw you reject people so often he swears he knows the outcome just by the look on your face. Even when you politely decline and show no signs that you'll say no he still can tell.

If someone really messes it up he's gonna joke about this later with you. He just wanted to make you laugh so you won't have to worry about it much.

You might not like the idea so much but it happened when someone crossed the line and made you feel uncomfortable so you didn't feel that bad...

And it DEFINITELY doesn't make him anxious about confessing... Impossible- he would never.

Of course he's not like those idiots who don't even know you. And in the end he can turn it into a joke if he messes it up.

But the memory would probably haunt him and not let him sleep at night, so he rathers not risking it.

So you had to make the move. It was a bit hard but you knew how to get to him. You had to wait for your "making fun of people who confessed to you" session to do that.

That's when you mentioned that you were interested in someone and now it was the best time to make things obvious.

He was ready to tease the living shit out of you and hoped you'd share the news. But you made him guess.

It was interesting to hear the names he'd assume before himself. So you spoiled the fun.

"Aww Y/N I almost got it! That's not fair" he crossed his arms "But since you're really dying to be with me I suppose I can entertain you from now on in a bit different way"

Korekiyo Shinguji

He's observant and he's pretty sure somehow he saw all of the confessions so far. Some were creative while some incredibly creepy.

He did make a joke once about you being so popular just to see your reaction. It was interesting that you rejected everyone even those he assumed you were close with.

A little tease like this can show him how you view those interactions. He wanted to know if you find it amusing or heartbreaking.

Whatever your answer was he acknowledged it and knew that from now on it'd be better to keep his feelings to himself.

He was entertained enough just being with you as you were so he didn't really care that he has to ignore his heart's call.

You were beautiful, the special kind of beauty within you was something he could witness every day. What more he could ask for?

Only if he knew what you were up to... It'd ruin the surprise!

You studied the language of flowers just so when you give him the special bouquet you'd tell him meaning of each flower.

He was of course already aware of those but since you were telling them about it he knew that it was supposed to mirror your feelings.

"To believe that I was blind to your feelings all this time... Let me make this up to you"

~Mod Angie

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 52

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

"We fucked up."

"No, we didn't."

"We had Peter. Now we don't have Peter."

Loki's eyes were completely dark from a spell letting him see through Barbara's, but still he waved toward the completely-not-suspicious building complex in front of you. "But we found him again. That surely counts toward something, right?"

"We lost the alien pin too."

"Which we also found, if memory serves," Loki shrugged, as if the search hadn't taken the two of you the better part of an evening. Who knew searching through half of New York and visiting places it might've been dropped could be so time-consuming?

The weather was pleasant, the air growing warmer as the seasons continued to change. It was one of those days where everything felt brighter, despite how disappointing the reality might be.

"I'm still voting for arson," Loki said, assessing the tall fence surrounding the area. An area which crawled with people trying their hardest not to look like agents of some super-secret government facility, and failing rather miserably.

"You might not have noticed, but buildings nowadays have systems preventing fire from spreading."

"Do these systems work against magic fire too?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like I spit magic fire on a whim?"

"You did last week," Loki muttered. The memory was still fresh.

"Wow, so now I'm the bad guy, and not the sneaky little bastard that ate all the cupcakes I left for-"

Barbara came back, flying on quiet, if a little filthy and decomposed, wings. Loki blinked twice, shedding the spell connecting him to the bird. As much as he didn't mind the heights, Loki had to admit he wasn't a fan of the sharp turns and rather random drops Barbara's flying pattern involved.

Loki pointed to one of the buildings further inside the complex. The red, evening sun hit the countless windows with blinding intensity. "The bird thinks the boy might be there."

You looked at the long stretch of road leading to the complex, like a carpet laid out specifically for you, but the crowds of agents working in the area leading to it made you cringe.

"I still vote arson."

"Why don't we just walk in, though? I mean, it was SHIELD themselves that contacted us, right? It should be okay to just… pay them a visit without sneaking around like… well, like villains. No offense."

Loki frowned. He didn't look convinced. "I like sneaking around, though. It keeps me away from trouble."

"If that’s true, how did you get banned from the Moon twice?"

"Touché. Lead the way then, love."

The way took you down the asphalt road, busy with cars rushing both ways. Despite their past issues, Loki couldn't help feeling a little bad for the agents. For all the grandeur and importance they always described their life to hold, Loki's imagination kept on showing him pictures of ants in their little nests, crawling in their endless, pointless patterns.

The ants seemed to fall into a state of shock rather abruptly after laying their eyes on the two visitors to their nest. Some of them just stood there, looking after the figures marching right to the gates, while others ran in a seemingly random direction.

"That worked out better than I thought," Loki admitted when all the space around you cleared.

Barbara perched on top of the gates, screaming on top of her rotten lungs. The security guards looked at one another and then at the approaching god. Their hands went to their guns. Loki took that as a compliment.

"I know this might surprise you," Loki said, "but we are here to talk. Fetch us your Agent Cauldron, and be quick about it."

"Coulson," you whispered.

"Whatever."

*

"No matter how many times you ask me, the answer will stay the same - I don't know," Peter groaned.

His back hurt from sitting on the same, incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for hours, and the lights of the small and a little outdated office were starting to make his head throb with an upcoming headache. Or maybe the reason behind it were the endless questions to which he wished he know the answer.

Agent Coulson looked at the photos on the desk between him and the boy. These were nice pictures. If he were more sentimental, he might've put them on a fridge or maybe to the clipboard on the wall to his left. They were definitely worth taking a look at least once a day - it wasn't often one had a chance to look at a god and an ex-assassin, completely drunk, being led by a teenage boy on a spider-thread.

Peter glanced down at them too, and scowled.

"Yeah, well, we've met and hung out together, but I don't know where they are now. Sir, if I knew, do you really think I'd willingly stay behind?"

The agent didn't answer. He moved very little, in fact. Peter was unsure whether it was a part of some special, super-secret interrogation technique, but it was working. To make things even worse, the metal chair he had been given was making sitting still a nightmare. 

"That's a fair point, Peter," Coulson nodded, "but do you think I would be pressing you so much if two of the most dangerous people on this planet weren't currently on the run with an alien artifact of unknown origin that might've been recently used to damage our Moon?"

That was a fair point too, Peter had to admit. He might've even grown a little worried after hearing such news, if only it all didn't sound so exciting.

"So you DO know what happened to it, right?" the boy leaned forward, with eyes shining with excitement. 

Agent Coulson sighed.

It was a small,  almost invisible display of all the emotions boiling inside of him that he'd never show. He knew better, and had far too many years of experience to allow that. Still, the situation was beginning to wear on him, especially if he spared a thought or two to consider what the two people that should absolutely never go off radar, could be up to at this very moment. 

Last time Loki visited Earth, he led an alien invasion. Last time Coulson met you before you hesitantly joined forces with the Avengers, you'd already put two bullets in Tony Stark and were on the way to making it three.

Coulson allowed himself a moment to thank his hair for already thinning out or he'd be losing it in a handfuls. 

And the worst part was, he actually believed the boy.

He had clearly helped with sneaking you through half the city and into his apartment, but there was no evidence of him helping you out too. Wherever Loki and you were, Coulson was sure he'd hear about it soon enough. He might even let the boy go, and monitor him long enough to see if you'd show up. 

The decision wasn't an easy one, but the agent was left with very limited choices. After all, how likely was it that the two of you would just show up?

The phone vibrated on the desk in front of agent Coulson. He picked it up.

He blinked. And simply said, "Yes."

Peter did not like the absent look on the agent's face. He'd seen far too many movies not to recognize the moment the power shifted in the room. Just in time for something bad to happen. It wouldn't be a problem if it stayed on the screen - Ned and him would freeze with the popcorn halfway to their mouths in anticipation of what was to come. But here, in reality, far from the safe spot on a couch, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to know what was about to happen next.

Unfortunately, whatever powers weaved through the lives of people, deciding their fate and luck, rarely listened to young boys in their judgement. In fact, they listened to old agents even less, but that was something Peter was unlikely to ever find out.

Peter twisted on the chair biting into his backside, and looked back to the thick, metal door. He hadn't realized it when he had been brought inside, but the door looked like it could take a few shots from a gun and remain unscathed. 

Peter was not sure what to do with that information.

The door in question decided to finally open and reveal the reason for the sudden tension. It didn't even creak, so the god walked in in complete silence. You followed him, not as quiet, but just as unexpected.

Your face lit up when you noticed the boy. "There you are!" 

Peter looked at the agent. The agent looked at Peter.

"I know you're probably not going to believe me, sir, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."

The agent had no doubt that the boy was the least likely person to ever manipulate the god of trickery and lies, or the almost-ex-assasin into anything, but he didn't say a word. He only raised an eyebrow and asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?", as if there was anything pleasant to be found in the room. But lying was not solely a domain of gods, as all the agents in the world would probably agree. 

And Coulson was a very good agent.

"We recently lost a boy, but it looks like he's just been found. Thank you for taking care of him."

"It was a pleasure," the agent smiled. "Although I can't help but worry if you have lost the pin too?"

"We wouldn't dare," Loki lied smoothly with an even more charming smile.

The god of trickery waved his hand and produced a pin seemingly out of thin air. Whether it was only a clever trick or an actual spell was something agent Coulson would never know, but for once he didn't mind. The pin felt heavy and looked just as the files described, but whether it was the real thing would only be revealed once a detailed analysis was completed. 

Still, it somehow looked like the deal was fulfilled. Coulson would be lying if he said he'd placed a bet on that outcome.

Peter sprung out of the chair the moment you waved at him to go. The agents and armed officers waiting behind Loki and you on the corridor shifted with unease, their fingers laying on triggers. A small crowd eyed every move made in Coulson's office, which was to be expected - it was not every day a facility such as this one was visited by a god.

Especially one with a rather problematic history of attempted world domination.

"If we may, we'll take our leave now." Loki bowed stiffly.

"And what about the 'favor' you insisted on as payment?"

Something cold and ancient flashed in the god's eyes. "All in due time."

[jawabear]

Assistant to the boss (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Okay. So. This story is Inspired by this post by @dindjarinscape I love it so much. I really enjoyed writing this because it’s Marcus and I love him. I really hope you enjoy the fluffiness. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of anxiety, just a lot of fluff.

Summary: From friend to boss, her feelings have not changed, but is there any chance he feel the same way?

The coffee machine whirred and rattle as she stood there waiting for it to finish. You would think that working in a place that was such high-tech and with literal super heroes, there would be an easier, quicker, quieter way of making a cup of coffee. She guessed she could’ve done it by hand but she was too far in now to change her mind.

It finally beeped to signal it was done. She moved it from under the machines spout and lifted it into her hands. The bitter smell of it filled her nose making her cringe. She was not a lover of coffee and couldn’t understand why people loved it so much when it smelt and tasted how it did.

She picked up the small pile of files for her boss and tucked them under her arm, hating the fact that the mug was filled right to the very rim with the disgusting drink. Thankfully the walk from the break room to her boss’s office wasn’t all that far, it would be if she had to take the stairs, but thankfully their was an elevator that could bring her almost straight to his office.

(Y/n) kept an eye on the drink as she walked to the elevator making sure not the spill it. People gave her strange looks as they walked past her but she glared right back at them which made them quicken their speed past her. It wasn’t that she was a horrible person or anything. In fact, she was a very sweet and kind person. She was just a little stressed about the damn coffee in her hands.

The elevator dinged when she pressed the button and the door slid open. She quickly stepped inside and pressed the number to the top floor of Heroics Headquarters. She then began to repeatedly push the button to close the door, not really wanting to spend the journey with anyone else in that moment.

Luckily for her, everyone else walked past and the doors closed letting her be alone. (Y/N) let out a sigh and took in a deep breath. She always grew nervous on the journey up to see him. She didn’t really know why. Perhaps she was just an all round nervous person, that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion. She had suffered with anxiety since she was a kid but it was something about this journey in particular that made it worse.

Maybe it was just the coffee.

Or maybe it was the fact she had been crushing on her boss for years. Of course, he wasn’t always her boss. He was her friend before he got promoted. Well, he still was her friend.

After the whole ordeal with the aliens from Ogima and the reveal that Miss Granada was actually one of them left the position for Head of HQ wide open. And who better to fill it, then The leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno. (Y/N) was the assistant to Miss Granada and so her position continued on to Marcus as well, not that she was complaining. It meant she got to spend more time with him. Which was also a downfall because she fell further and further for him.

She let out another sigh as she drew nearer and nearer to his floor. She looked down at her self and just hoped she looked presentable. But she knew if she didn’t he wouldn’t really say anything unless it was really bad in which he would kindly tell her. Because he was just the kindest man alive. And he was so kind to her. She wanted to feel special and hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked her back in the same way she liked him. But reality would always hit her that he was just kind to everyone.

The elevator stopped and dinged and the door opened. (Y/N) stepped out and began walking towards his office.

Thankfully the floor wasn’t too busy so she didn’t have to glare at anyone as she slowly walked with the coffee still in had and still completely full but some kind of magic.

His office was completely blacked out on the outside. Aside from the door. That was how she knew he was in there. His door was its normal glass self and she could see through it and saw Marcus working hard at his large black desk. The desk was almost the size of width of his already massive office. He wasn’t really a fan of it to be honest. It was far to big and it was intimidating. And it was lonely. Very lonely.

She watched as he put his pen down and took off his glasses, rubbing his hands over his face as he leant back in his chair. She felt saddened to see him look so worn out but perhaps the coffee would cheer him up. Or she would.

(Y/N) slowly opened the door and he lifted his head to look at her. “(Y/N)!” He said happily as he stood. She gave him a smile as she pushed the door shut with her foot and walked over to his desk.

“I brought you some coffee” she said. Marcus met her half way, clearly noticing the extent to which the mug was filled and he took it from her. Neither party failed to notice the way his fingers grazed against her as he took the mug.

“Oh my God, thank you” he said as he took a large gulp of it.

“Yeah, you looked like you need it” she laughed softly.

“Oh, I really did” he smiled to her “thank you”

“Just doing my job” (Y/N) shrugged. Marcus sped back round to his desk, placing the mug carefully in front of him as he sat back in his chair. She too walked over to his desk and pulled the files out from under her arm “you know I hate to have to do this but...” she slid them towards him “these are for you”

Marcus sighed and nodded “thanks (Y/N)” he said rubbing his face again. “I have not idea how Granada did this” he laughed.

“Because she didn’t do it alone like you do” (Y/N) pointed out. “She had an army of people who did most of them for her, she rarely did any. I was one of them. And I would be more than happy to help you as well. It is my job after all. I am your assistant”

“Yes you are my assistant” he copied the way she drew out her job role. He picked up his glasses and put them back onto his nose. “But you are also my friend. My best friend”

Best friend.

The words cut deep into her heart. He might as well taken one of his katanas that hung proudly on the wall behind him and stabbed it through her heart.

But she smiled anyway. She was happy being his best friend, even if she did want to be something more to him.

“Why should that make a difference, Marcus?” She said “since you’re now the big boss of the Heroics, I am first and foremost your assistant” (Y/N) took the pile of files back as well as half the stack beside him.

“(Y/N)-“ he tried to argue but she made a noise that stopped him “fine” he gave in “but...um...can you sit in here?” He asked shyly “it’s pretty lonely in here...”

She smiled and nodded “of course Marcus” She pulled a chair up to the other side of his desk and grabbed a pen and started working.

There was a comfortable silence over the two of them. The only sounds being the sound of pens against paper and pages being turned. But the silence was soon about to end. Marcus stopped writing for a moment and fiddled with the pen in his hand before speaking.

“(Y/N)” he said quietly as he lifted his head to look at her. But she continued writing only humming in acknowledgement of him saying her name “if...say for example,” he began, his voice filled with worry but he spoke with a nervous laugh “I-I were to...like someone” her hand froze as she slowly lifted her head to look at him, now interested in where he was taking this “h-how would I go about telling someone that?”

She tried not to grow angry at the idea of Marcus liking someone else. Her mind then began flicking through everyone who worked there to see if she could figure out who it was “Uh, I guess it depends on who it is. Because each person would like to get told differently I suppose” she said as she continued to write.

“Well...h-how would you like to be told?” He asked quietly making her pause again but she didn’t look at him this time.

“I-I haven’t really thought about that. No one has ever really liked me...” she admitted “but I guess...I’d just want them to tell me. You know, say something like, ‘(Y/N), I really like you’.”

“(Y/N), I really like you” he repeated.

“Yeah. Something like that” she nodded.

Marcus rested his hand on top of her making her had twitch slightly due to the fact she just wanted to hold it.

“(Y/N)” he said again making her looked up at him. He had soft eyes and gave her a matching smile “I really like you”

(Y/N) was lost for words. She couldn’t really believe what he had said to her. “Wh-What?” She managed to say.

“I really like you” he said again. A third time.

“A-Are you...S-Serious?” She questioned.

He nodded and smiled hopefully but his smile fell and he drew his hand away when he saw the expression on her face “have I made things awkward?” He said “I’ve made things awkward haven’t I? God. I’m so sorry (Y/N). Just...forget I said anything-“

“N-No. Its fine” she said quickly “you just...surprised me is all. Do you actually like me?”

“Yes (Y/N). I actually like you” he confirmed “but I’ve been too scared to tell you because we’re such good friends and I didn’t think you would like me like that. And plus I didn’t know how to tell you and I haven’t been on a date in years so I thought I was a bit out of practice and it’s been eating at me for months now-“

(Y/N) shut him up by leaning over his desk and pressing her lips to his. He was far too shocked at her actions to kiss back but he desperately wanted too. She pulled back and gave him a soft smile, trying her hardest not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his stupidly handsome face.

“I really like you too” she said as she sat back in the chair.

“You do?” It was his turn to be the one in disbelief.

“Yes” she nodded with a slight laugh.

“Does...this mean you’re...my girlfriend now?” He asked in a very small voice.

“If you want me to be” she said a little more confidently. Her heart was swelling at the feeling that she was now Marcus Moreno’s girlfriend. She had to try not to start squealing with joy.

“Does..” he began a little more slowly this time, but a little louder. “Does this mean you can also move your desk into here so I can actually talk to someone?”

“I’m sure it could be arrange”

29/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88

[dirty-urie]

McBrendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

Unspecified Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.2k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: RPF, language throughout, not pre-discussed roleplay scene, medical roleplay and language, sex

Author's Notes:

So, basically, I was re-watching Grey's Anatomy, and I was like, "What if Brendon was here?" and then this was born. I have no idea if someone who's never watched Grey's Anatomy would understand or appreciate this, but basically what I think you need to know is that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan are sexy manwhores (in the earier seasons), and a common recurring joke in the earlier seasons of the show is putting "Mc" in front of adjectives to describe love interests. The fic is supposed to be more silly than sexy, but maybe it's sexy too, I don't really know.

"Wait, what about those two?" He asks, and you sigh exasperatedly.

"Brendon, just assume that all of the doctors on the Doctor Sex Show have slept together. That's the whole point."

He groans and slumps back in his chair, "Remind me why we have to watch this overdramatic doctor smut in the theater? The theater should be a sacred space for Disney movies or action movies with boobies and explosions, not 'ohhhh does McCreamy only like Natalie because she hooked up with Appendectomy?.'"

"It's my week on laundry duty, and whoever's folding laundry gets to watch whatever they want wherever they want. That's the rules, but you can go watch something in the living room or on your computer or on your phone if you don't like it," you offer, trying to get rid of him. You love Brendon, you love him so much, but sometimes you need to sit in the dark and fold laundry with no other noises except your soapy little doctor show.

"Fine. The men of the house are going to go watch something manly, don't bother us. Come on, Bogart!"

Brendon's little Jack Russell turns to look at you as if asking to stay, but you pat his back and send him off to go snuggle with his dad. You don't think you could handle Brendon's betrayed gasps if you let Bogart finish the episode with you. You and Penny will be fine ogling at Patrick Dempsey while file-folding Brendon's 68 pairs of gray and black sweatpants alone. Brendon kisses your cheek before he leaves. "Have fun with the boobs and explosions, babe," you tell him on his way out of the room.

"Oh, you know I will!"

•••

Two weeks later, it's your turn to fold laundry again, and you're back to watching Grey's, this time in the living room. The dogs are sitting next to you, eyes glued to the screen. Brendon's also in the room, bitching about "introducing this drivel into our home," but you're ignoring him because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.

He finally quiets down, and you appreciate the five minutes of peace. Until… "Are you unsatisfied with our sex life?" He asks out of the blue.

You're taken completely aback for a second before you scramble to pause the tv. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what? Where did this come from?" you ask him. What the fuck? Is he unsatisfied with your sex life?

"Well, we haven't had sex in weeks practically." Three days actually. It's been three days, but you don't interrupt him. "And you keep watching this sexy doctor show, so I don't know, maybe you're feeling like a bored housewife," Brendon explains.

You laugh at him, and he looks offended. "You're overthinking it, baby boy. It's just a show! Sure, the sexual tension between the entire hospital and Mark Sloan is spicy and exciting, but I'm not trying to compensate for anything lacking in my life. If anything, all that spice just translates into better sex for both of us. Okay?"

He looks very skeptical. "Hm, sure. I totally believe you."

You don't necessarily think you properly got your point across to him, but Meredith just made another bad decision, and you need to see how it pans out. "Okay, great, now go watch a manly show with Bogs in our room if you're going to keep whining."

Brendon does not, in fact, go into your room to watch a manly show on his laptop. Instead, he and Bogart start watching season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, immediately getting highly invested in the lives of the ambitious-yet-messy surgical interns. He's trying to figure out what exactly appeals to you about the show.

•••

It's his turn to fold the clothes, and he's doing it wrong, but you're resisting the urge to do it for him because you're a feminist, damnit. He's still letting you watch Grey's Anatomy because he's a doll (and you don't know this, but he's also become a bit of a fan.)

"Do you think I'm more a Mark Sloan or a Derek Shepherd?" He asks.

You scoff, "You're a George."

"I am not! I'm way sexier than George!"

"You're just jealous because I'm an Addison."

"Pshh, you're a Bailey. You wanna know how I know?" He asks.

"Fine. Tell me." You give in.

"You desperately want to correct my laundry technique."

•••

"Meet me in the on-call room in five," Brendon whispers against the back of your neck while you're drying the dishes from dinner. What is this man doing? "Meet you where?" You ask, but he's already walked away. You're not sure whether to actually wait the five minutes or just try to go find him.

You give him three minutes before going to the bedroom. You honestly don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't Brendon laying on his side in the middle of your bed, shirtless under a white coat. He has on a pair of navy blue scrub pants that aren't particularly flattering, but they still look nice on him.

"Explain to me what's happening here, homie," you tell him.

"I'm being sexy for you! So sexy! I'm Dr. Brendon "McKinky" Urie, I'm a general surgery attending, but my real specialty is pleasure."

You visibly cringe for him. "You're a McDoofus, and your real specialty is probably malpractice."

He pouts. "Play along. Come on. Please? Be Dr. Y/N Sexy."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you get your real last name, but I'm Dr. Sexy?"

"Because we're not married in this fantasy! We're both cheating on our spouses but not in a tragic way, in a sexy way! Come on! Let yourself have fun," he pleads.

You feel yourself start to cave. "Fine, I'll play along, but I'm stopping this the minute I feel weird, okay?"

"Of course. And, babe, if you don't want to do this, you absolutely do not have to," he says, serious now.

"No, no, Brendon. I'm down for this. I think you're a total goof for doing it, but I trust you."

He brightens, "Great! Now it's time for your examination." He waggles his eyebrows, climbing off the bed and gesturing for you to take his place.

"Exam? Am I a patient? Why am I in the on-call room if I'm a patient?" You ask.

"Doctors need exams too, y'know. We're both doctors, but I don't know, you need a routine exam for like moles or something. Take your clothes off." He says, and you take a split-second to be grateful that Brendon got discovered for his musical talents and will therefore never be an actual doctor.

You stifle back your laughter and strip down to your underwear, lying on your back on top of the white sheet he put over the comforter to protect the bed from any potential messes. He stands over you next to the bed, and you're happy that you at least get to stare at his body during this little experiment. The whole "doctor" thing may not be driving you wild on its own, but your half-naked husband always will.

"Thank you for coming to this appointment, Dr. Y/N Sexy," he says. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, you chant in your head. "First," he says, making his voice husky, "I need to test your reflexes." Something tells you he won't be using one of those little hammers. He bends down and breathes against your neck. You shiver, and goosebumps appear on your arms. You're glad you wore your front clasp bra when he unclips it and has immediate access to your breasts. He circles around your nipple with his finger, and they harden quickly. "Mmm, good reflexes indeed. Very responsive," he purrs. "I don't think your test results are conclusive yet. You should keep going," you encourage. He rubs your scalp, and your head rolls back. You're worried that you'll start drooling.

Brendon smirks at you a little, and his smugness is slightly infuriating. Yes, you like him touching you, but that hardly proves that his weird roleplaying was a good idea. "Just like I observed, fantastic reflexes. But I now must move on to the chest exam." He rests his head on your chest, and you're beginning to suspect that this whole thing was just a ploy to touch your boobs a lot. "Is your heart rate always this fast or just when your hot coworker is touching you?"

"Normally only my husband, also named Brendon… for some reason, can get me so worked up, but now I'm thinking of leaving him for you, McCrinkly."

"It's McKinky, and your husband sounds gorgeous and super smart. You should keep him around," he says, climbing onto you and groping your breasts. "In my professional opinion, these are nice tits."

You have to bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh again. You wouldn't quite say you're aroused, but you are having fun at least. "Okay, okay, doc. Enough of the preliminary exam; I need five and a half inches, stat."

"You couldn't round up to six while we're playing!?"

"Oh, come on, you're lucky I rounded up to five and a half!"

"Rude! So rude!"

You kiss him to shut him up. "Sorry, baby, I won't bully you anymore. Now, how about a cervical exam?" You suggest, craving his thickness inside you.

That cheers him up. Brendon resumes his doctor roleplay. "First, let me complete the dermatological examination. If you could remove your undergarments, please."

You throw your bra on the floor and take off your underwear.

He admires the small amount of newly-exposed skin. "So many marks on your breasts and pubic region. Did your hot husband leave these too, or should I investigate for a skin condition?" He asks, ducking between your thighs to add some more.

"Yeah, he left them there. My sexy husband is kind of the best, but enough about him," you say.

New dark spots pop up after he finally moves his mouth from the sensitive skin of your thighs. "Oops, I think I just burst a couple of capillaries."

Well, someone did some light googling. "Do you think I'll make it?" You ask, faking drama.

"Yes, but you'll need someone to pay lots of attention to the area between your thighs."

He never mastered the art of subtly, did he? "I don't think that will be an issue. My husband will be thrilled."

"Great, that's taken care of. Shall we commence with the cervical exam then?" He asks, rolling off you to tug off his scrubs and underwear. He keeps his dumb coat on, which is more goofy than sexy without clothes underneath, but you don't tell him that. "And we can test your motor skills at the same time. Hands and knees, please."

You obey, and he moves behind you to enter you. He pushes into you quickly and hard, just like you like it. "God, there's so much blood in my, hm, um corpus cavernosum… I think," he says.

"Your what? Are you trying to cast a Harry Potter spell? because that's a whole different roleplay," You crane your neck back to see him, and your eyes widen. "Brendon, are you," you need to pause to choke back your laughter, "are you reading from a flashcard? While inside me?"

He's on his knees behind you, squinting at a white notecard. He flips the card over and reads from it, "the corpus cavernosum is, um, the main erectile tissue in the genitals. So, uh, I was trying to say that I'm hard for you."

That's it, you can't contain your laughter. You can't even bear to look at Brendon without cracking up. Tears are streaming down your face. He hisses, and you think it's because you've upset him, but you turn back to look at him, and he's biting his lip, his head tilted back.

"Are you good, B?" You ask, a little worried.

He's breathing hard. "Yeah, just your laughing caused contractions around my cock, and I was not prepared. Felt good, just unexpected." He pulls almost all the way out and then jerks back in, not quite slamming but gearing up to it.

"Faster, please. Careful still, but faster," you request.

He speeds up perfectly, finally filling you up and relieving the ache inside you. You relish each time his hips meet your body, feeling close to him, even if the position isn't as intimate as he usually likes. You suppose successful Dr. Kinky, notorious womanizer, wouldn't necessarily want to make loving, passionate eye contact with all of his conquests.

"So, Dr. Kinky-"

"No, it's doctor Urie, McKinky."

Jesus, you need a script. "So, Dr. Urie, do you have enough energy after all those lobotomies or whatever to rub a girl's clit? I bet my husband, the other Brendon, would touch me."

"Well, I would never even bother to compete with such a stellar man, but I can still try to get you off." His hands move between your thighs to touch your cunt. "Oh no, so much excess fluid here. I hope nothing's wrong." He puts a finger on your throbbing clit and feigns a sigh of relief, "Good, I've found a pulse." His touch is feather-light as he slowly strokes you. The contrast between his fast, hard thrusts and delicate strokes somehow enhances both of his actions.

"Oh, that's nice," you moan.

"You mind if I have you roll over? I still have to test your flexibility, and I'd love to do that with your legs on my shoulders."

"Fuck yeah."

He pulls out, and you get on your back; he gets you ready by situating the pillows underneath you. You rest a leg on either shoulder, and he thrusts in again. You don't want to admit it to him, but you feel like you'll need to come soon. The spikes of pleasure pulsing between your legs have been getting stronger and closer together, and now that you can see what you do to him, rather than just hearing his occasional grunts, you feel even closer to crossing that finish line.

"I'm observing some rapid contractions, Sexy. Should I note in your chart how close you are to coming all over me? Because it seems to me that you're failing your stamina and endurance evaluation," Dr. Urie teases.

You close your eyes to try to eliminate a source of the arousal, but you still feel painfully close to the edge.

Brendon inadvertently shifts a bit, and that does it. Your arousal peaks intensely, and you try to restrain your reactions on the off chance he doesn't notice. However, you're pretty sure he does notice your orgasm when his movements slow to a stop, and that's confirmed when he outright says it. "You just came," he states. It's not a question.

You nod, not bothering to deny it.

He pulls out, and you finally get to see his still-hard cock soaked with your wetness. "Well I suppose, we can run… further tests to reach a full diagnosis," he practically croons, pulling his scrub pants back on, and a wave of lust spreads from your stomach. Fine, the doctor thing is a little hot. "It's up to you though, I defer to your professional opinion."

"I think my exam is complete, actually, but I know you've been complaining of some pain in this region," you give his crotch a quick squeeze. "Do you mind stripping so I can investigate?"

He immediately takes off his coat, obviously excited, and gives it to you, so you put it on. "So, can you describe the pain?" You ask, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Kind of an ache, I guess?"

You squeeze his thigh, "And you'd say the pain is mainly here?"

"No, uh, um, to the right."

You squeeze his other thigh, "Oh, I see, right here?"

"No, not, um, my thigh."

"Sorry, I understand." You lay your hand flat on his stomach, still carefully avoiding his cock. "Your stomach must be hurting."

"Still not quite."

You clench your jaw in fake frustration. "Well, could you just show me where you need my attention, Doctor Urie?"

He shoves down his pants and grasps his leaking cock, groaning in relief when he starts to tentatively touch himself.

"Yes, very good, thank you. Would you say the ache subsides with stimulation?" You ask professionally.

Brendon nods and smirks a bit, "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I think you just need to achieve ejaculation," you diagnose.

"Is that, ah, covered under my insurance?" He asks cheekily, still jerking himself.

You laugh, going to dig the lubricant out, "Okay," you nudge his hand away, "leave this to the professionals." You pour the clear lube into your hand. "This may be a bit cold," you warn. He doesn't really need the lube, he's both leaking profusely and still slick from being inside you, but you want to keep up the "doctor vibes." You grasp him firmly and stroke quickly, trying to get him off as soon as you can. You kind of want to use your mouth, but you can't think of a good reason to within the roleplay. That's mostly fine, though, because you can tell he's about to come.

He comes all over your hand without warning a minute or so later. He shudders and groans, spurting twice more. You didn’t realize how worked up he was. Of course, you saw how hard he was, but to come this much from just jerking him off means he was really turned on. "Outstanding sperm production, sir," you say, crudely wiping him up with a tissue.

"Okay, no more doctor talk. My brain is too mushy," he groans.

You take off the coat and get into bed, cuddling against him. "If your brain is mushy, you probably should see a doctor."

He giggles. "So, would you do this again?"

You think for a second. "Well, I'd roleplay with you again, but you have to warn me next time. And probably not the doctor thing again. It was hot playing with you, but thinking about actual medical procedures is not my thing."

He yawns, "Noted about the warning you next time, and that's too bad. I was really looking forward to the oral exam. How big is your mouth? How's your swallow technique?" He says, half-jokingly.

"Hey, don't push it, or we're doing a prostate exam, and due to budget cuts to the hospital, we're going to be low on lubricant."

He cringes, "Point taken. I don't need a doctor roleplay; the next time I want a blowjob, I'll just ask."

You get out of bed and put on your pajamas. "Well, if it's in the next 45 minutes, your request is getting denied because Penny Lane, Bogart, and I are watching the real Grey's Anatomy in the theater while you're still too weak to complain about it. And this is a good time to tell you that my character is not actually a medical doctor. I have a PHD in film studies. I’m a fraud.”

His mouth drops open, "You're telling me that wasn't an official medical handjob?!"

"I trust that you'll get over this. Love you, babe."

He scowls but still mutters a quiet, “I love you too.”

[hisunshiine]

—work out for me (M) jjk

🏋🏻‍♂️Part of the “Making You Sweat Like That” Collaboration 

🏋🏻‍♂️pairing: neighbor!gymrat!jungkook x neighbor!reader

🏋🏻‍♂️word count: 3.2k

🏋🏻‍♂️genre + warning: 18+, nsfw, post breakup au, strangers/neighbors to lovers | mean ex-boyfriend, semi-public unprotected sex, wet sex, submerged sex, hot tub sex, kissing, groping, semi-clothed humping, teasing, sucking, biting, & marking, praise, scratching, creampie, post-sex cockwarming, jungkook has a fat cock

🏋🏻‍♂️summary: after a bad breakup, you move to a new apartment complex with a full gym and amenities. wanting to catch the eye of your very fit, across-the-hall neighbor, you start using the gym hoping to see him there. when he shows up to the gym and asks to join you, working out takes on a new meaning. 

🏋🏻‍♂️an: this is a revamp of my original story from june of last year! i hope you enjoy the additions/changes made to the story, and please await the sister gym-fics for this special collab, coming soon!

collab masterlist coming soon!

“Who would want you!?” Changkyun says icily. He’s yelling as you walk with the last of your belongings out of the once shared apartment. You cringe, hoping the neighbors are at work or just out in general.

“Clearly you wanted me, Changkyun. I’m sorry that we’re not working anymore… But I can’t do this anymore.” You keep your voice steady, not raising it like you want to. He’s also lucky that your hands are full carrying this box, or else you would have already swung on him. But you know it’s best this way.

His toxic ass loves a fight, loves to create drama in your relationship because of the thrill of making up. Make up sex with Changkyun may be fun, but the rest of the relationship had gone stale a while ago. And you’re tired of fighting.

The last argument, he had taken it too far, so you’re done. You realize as you load your car that he finally caught on. You’re leaving him for good this time, and his fragile ego can’t handle the fact that you’re the one who is making the decision to leave. 

He hopes that by insulting you he can get you to stop and face him. But you won’t make that mistake. You know he will use it to his advantage, turn it into hot, passionate sex, but you want more than just make up sex and drama.

“I can have any girl, YN! I’ll get someone better than you!”

“I’m sure you can have any girl. But I’m not just any girl.” You climb into the driver’s seat of your car, finally making eye contact with him one last time. “Good luck finding a woman like me. I truly wish you all the best.”

Swinging the door shut in his face, you back out your 4-door sedan and head out towards your new apartment in Itaewon.

The new Itaewon apartment is nice, with two bedrooms and one bathroom, you have ample space for all of your belongings. It feels a little empty that first week, and despite having had a tour prior to moving in, you are still not ready to use the facility's amenities fully. The tour showcased that the apartment had a computer lab, a pool, a game room, gym & sauna, and a small theatre room.

Scattered around between apartment buildings are a volleyball court, basketball court, and picnic area. You’re within walking distance to some of the more popular places to hang out for young adults your age, but have yet to go out and enjoy the nightlife.

Running down to your car, where you have left that last box after your encounter with Changkyun—files for a work project forgotten in the backseat—you spy the hot man who lives somewhere in your building. He’s walking back from the gym, shirt dark from sweat in spots as he carries a small gym bag on his shoulder. He’s staring at his phone; strands of his hair slick from perspiration block his eyes but the smile as he sees something on the screen gives you that funny feeling in your tummy. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

You pass him by, noting that his scent is still fresh despite the fact that he has to have just finished a vigorous workout, but due to the deadline on your report, you don’t have the time to linger in his fragrance that fills the narrow hall. You jog back into the building, and when you approach your door, you ascertain fate is on your side. 

Apartment 613, directly across the hall from you, has the door propped open by a gym bag—one you recognize easily, since you had just seen it only a mere minute and a half ago. When a dark head of hair pops between the opening, bending at the waist to grasp the handle and pull the bag in, and you dart into your own apartment.

 You feel like a blushing schoolgirl avoiding her crush, but his aura is intimidating to you. Maybe one day you’ll gather the courage to talk to him, but not just yet.

“What about, I don't know, making a change?”

Your best guy friend’s voice crackles through the phone line as you tidy up your living room. You hold your phone between your shoulder and your ear, keeping your hands free so that you are able to fluff the couch pillows and fold the throw blanket you fell asleep using on the couch. 

“Okay Hoseok, what change do you suggest that I make? I already dropped 169 pounds of toxic ex. I feel like that’s pretty healthy.”

“Why not just go to the gym and use that to burn off all your pent up sexual frustration. You hurt Yoongi’s feelings the other night when you wouldn’t listen to his new track. You’re mean when you aren’t getting dick constantly.”

“Wow, thanks Hobi. Love you too.”

“See. Your sarcasm did not go unnoticed, hun. I’m just saying. Until you can get worked out… work out.”

“I know.” You let out a sigh, defeated. “I stopped going to the gym once I started dating Kyun, spending more time at home acting like a wife, when I knew he was too much of a player to ever settle down for real.” You glance to your front door, imagining 613 dripping with sweat. “I guess I could take your advice.”

“First time for everything.”

“Who the fuck decided going to the gym that their apartment complex provides at the same time, 7PM to 8PM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is a good idea?” you huff under your breath. It’s Friday night, and while most people your age are out on dates, cuddled up watching Netflix, or taking shots pregaming, you’re working up a sweat on the elliptical. The gym is normally empty at this time of night, nearing 8PM, and you aren’t feeling all that motivated. So why are you still there?

After moving into your new place, a couple weeks after leaving your longest relationship, you’re ready to be all about you. That’s why you decide to create a gym routine and stick to it, to reclaim your self-esteem your shitty ex had knocked down a peg or two. You didn’t realize how much of what he would say during fights started to become the voice in your head, until he was gone and unable to quiet the ache between your thighs and in your mind.

You’re ready to quit your gym regiment after the first week. 

That is until your hot neighbor appears as you’re about to throw the towel in. 

Hottie from apartment 613 walks in, black hair pushed away from his forehead but still extra floofy, a black tee and black joggers hanging loose off his lean frame. The fluorescent lights glint off the metal earrings dangling from each ear, and his eyebrow; you are enthralled. Each step he takes is fluid, his body moving gracefully across the black rubber gym flooring as he heads to the treadmill. 

This isn’t the first time you have seen him in the gym. You saw him during the tour and when you were given your keys—you had come to see the setup of your mailbox area and test the mail key when you first had moved in, long hair in his face as he did pushups. You noticed his body first, despite the extremely baggy clothes he wore, and you could see his shape underneath as he moved. You then continued to explore the front lobby, computer lab, and gym areas, all so you could watch him as he continued to his arms, chest, and laughed with a friend in the gym.

If you’re honest, Apartment 613 is the reason you decide to take Hobi’s advice to go to the gym. Being located across the hall from him, in 614, you learn his gym schedule after overhearing the times his door would slam shut behind him as he hustles downstairs. You decide to time your trips 30 minutes before he’ll typically go, in hopes that you can run into him. Coincidentally, of course. Monday and Wednesday are failed attempts. He never shows up and you are left feeling dejected and sore. Friday is your last attempt, and you almost give up too, but then he appears. 

You watch as he grabs weights off the rack behind you, working his arms, and you walk over to the nearby hooks with mats on them so you can sit and stretch. You’re done with your workout, and after stretching, you figure it’s a good time to hop into the hot tub to relax your muscles. 

After completing a good full body stretch and watching Hottie from 613 move around the gym, who you notice has been slyly eyeing you up and down as well, you travel over to the hot tub, where you strip off the oversized T-shirt, leaving you in just your sports bra and spandex shorts. It’s now close to 10 PM, but luckily the gym is 24 hours, and the hot tub is located in a tucked away corner behind the sauna. Private enough for you to feel comfortable to be half naked for a quick dip.

“Mind if I join you?” 

A honey sweet voice, perfect in it’s tenor pitch carries over your shoulder. 

You turn, smiling softly at 613. 

“Not at all. I’d love the company.”

He’s funny. So funny and super cute. He’s also super flirtatious, grazing soft touches to your arm and sweeping his fingers across your face to tuck your hair behind your ear.  Currently, you watch as rivulets of the water run down his neck, following a vein you want to press your lips into and suck on as he tells you about his hobbies. 

“What do you like to do—? Um, I actually don’t think we exchanged names yet.” 

“Y/N. I live in building 6.”

“Jungkook, and me too! I’m 613.”

“I’m 614! We’re across the hall from each other.” You pretend to be shocked, knowing damn well that you have been privy to this information since you’ve moved in there. 

“Wow, I’m surprised…” His eyes linger on your exposed cleavage. “I feel like I should’ve noticed you.”

“Really? What makes you say that?” you say boldly, moving across the hot tub towards him. The middle of the jacuzzi was actually pretty deep for your height, and standing up fully still has you under water from the armpit down.

You feel his hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him between his legs where he sits, putting you both at about the same height.

“For one thing.. I definitely notice a nice ass. I don’t think I would’ve forgotten this one.” His hands glide up along your thighs, cupping your cheeks. Moving with the momentum, you allow yourself to climb up, straddling his lap without sitting down fully on him just yet. This puts you a little taller than him, allowing streams of water to flow from your breasts down along your tummy and back into the water.

He’s squeezing his fingers on your ass, feeling you up and you can sense when he rises with excitement from where your body straddles his. Feeling bolder than you ever have, you lean down and kiss him, and the movement causes you to rub your clothed core against the tip of his rising cock. 

His lips are as soft as you thought they’d be, his pink pout moving skillfully with your own before his tongue asks for permission to taste you. Because you’re only wearing the spandex shorts, when his large hands pull you closer to him, his hardened shaft soon throbs against your pussy, feeling as if your spandex shorts are already off of your body. 

Lowering yourself fully onto his lap, keeping your knees on either side of his hips, you stroke your core back and forth along his shaft, with your hands moving to wrap lightly around his neck. He places his hands on your hips guiding you back and forth along him. The friction of your bodies feels so good, despite the burn of your thighs after your workout. He slowly slips his thumbs into the top of your spandex, and begins to slide them down.

You let him.

You break your lips apart to catch your breath, because it’s already hot in the water, and every touch from him is making your body feel like it's aflame. You slide his boxer briefs down as he pulls your sports bra over your head, his shirt the last thing between you until you’re both naked in the hot tub. 

Climbing back on top of him and using your hand, you grab his now fully firm cock and rub the throbbing head along your slit, parting your folds in order to use him to massage your clit. He moans softly into your mouth, a musical sound that gives you goosebumps. Bodies wet and temperatures high, you position him at your aching entrance and sit there with his dick head pulsing to go in, but you’re not allowing him entrance yet.

Jungkook moves his kisses lower down to your neck, suckling softly at your sweet spot behind your ear as his hands tug you impossibly closer.

“Teasing me after we’ve come this far, baby?” he whispers, his wet hair tickling your collarbone.

With his words goading you into movement, you give in, slowly lowering yourself while simultaneously rotating your hips. You engulf his dick with your walls and can feel yourself cream all over his fat cock as he spreads you open. It’s been a month—at least—since you last had sex with your ex, possibly longer, and Jungkook is just so much bigger… 

You take a breath before continuing, slowly beginning to ride him up and down once you adjust to his size. You suck at his neck, enjoying the way the water helps you ride him. He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth before pulling away slowly, giving you a sultry look. The steam rises, hiding your naked bodies away from any potential peeping eyes. 

You take in the view, the rising wisps of evaporating water framing his doe eyes and reddening skin. His lips are a magnet to your skin, and Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing along your jawline until he reaches your neck and he begins to suck, using his tongue to draw circles. It feels amazing. You keep riding him, enjoying the way he fills you up. 

“Baby, can I go faster?” 

His voice is low and whiny; you can tell he’s aching for more of you, as are you of him. You nod, biting your lip as your hooded eyes meet his own, and he pulls out of you with a sigh of relief for what’s to come. Turning you gently to face the edge of the hot tub, he has you lean your chest on the perimeter and guides your hand to the cool metal of the entry railing as he enters you from behind. 

Arching your backside as high as you’re physically able, you lay flush to the ledge of the jacuzzi, spreading your legs apart farther where they kneel on the tiled bench to give him a better angle. He has one hand on the same metal railing of the whirlpool stairs and the other wrapped around your waist where his palm and fingers lay open and spread across your tummy, where he’s applying pressure in the hope that he can hit your G spot. 

He’s successful. 

You attempt to crawl away from the pleasure, climbing up further onto the ledge when your foot finally finds purchase on the slippery bench seating.  

“You running from me?” Jungkook laughs, unable to stop the jovial sound from coming out of his swollen lips as he watches you try and escape the tantalizing way he fills you. You know you agreed he could go faster, but the fullness of his glide along your gripping walls has you wanting to backtrack. Who knew sex could feel like this—like you were about to reach nirvana, like once you come you won’t ever be the same.

“I don’t, see—ahhhhh… How this is a— ssss fuck! A laughing matter,” you cry out with trouble.

Your body tries again to run away. It doesn’t hurt; on the contrary the pleasure was too high, but he changes tactics to listen to your body. Lifting you almost effortlessly out of the water so your torso is fully onto the surrounding surface, he showcases his raw strength as he carries out this task while simultaneously plunging his dick deeper into you as he takes your original position of kneeling on the tiled seat in the hot tub, giving him the perfect angle to continue to fuck you.

“Ahhh, Jungk-kook, I’m… fu—!” He pulls out of you again, despite the tug of your walls to keep him inside and turns you on your back to face him. Bringing one of your legs up, he rests it on his chest as he begins slowly pumping into you.

“I knew you’d be flexible, Y/N.” Jungkook moans as he positions both of his hands on either side of you. You lift up the leg that’s still down, and he places it into the crook of his arm.

“Go as deep as you can,” you pant, “and stay in. I want to feel you.”

Pulling you back into the water, Jungkook carries your now weightless body to the deeper part of the hot tub, holding you in place. You’re practically folded like a pretzel; both of your legs are hooked at the knee in the bend of his arms and his cock remains nestled deep inside of your cunt, walls pulsing around him as your muscles try to fight his thick penetration.

“You take me so well, damn baby.” Jungkook praises you and he’s rewarded with a tightening grip that tells him you’re more than enjoying the moment with him. He’s definitely enjoying the moment as he’s buried within you. 

You place your head into the crook of his neck, and claw his back in an attempt to pull him closer. You’re moaning loudly by this point, so you bite his neck to keep from yelling. Jungkook backs you up into the wall of the hot tub and begins to pump faster, and you can feel yourself build towards climax again. The water’s penetrating against your back from the jets, and Jungkook’s penetrating your front.

“Ah, fuck… Jungkook—don’t stop, uh-huh… Kookie, deeper… right there!” you yell as he finally hits his last few deep & hard strokes, before finally emptying himself out into you. Your walls quiver around him, sucking out every last drop that he pumps into you.

You’re breathing hard, and Jungkook sits on the ledge seat in the water with his head back and his eyes shut. You float over to where he is and he grabs you so that you’re straddling him, though this time you rest your head on his firm chest.“Damn, that was a fucking workout.”You laugh into his strong chest.

“It was worth the pain I’ll feel tomorrow.”

He looks down at you, his chest feeling light as he takes in your messy bun, cute smile, and the way your eyes are shut as you relax against him.

“How about I give you a full body massage back at my place to make up for having you work out for me a second time tonight?”

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

thank you for reading! ♡ 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. ♡

[psychedellic-phase]

Blind Date

((gif by moi))

A/N: This is the first smut I’ve ever tried to write sooo let me know how it is!

word count: 3.6 k

tw: smut, swallowing, plain ol’ sex with a plot

masterlist

Spencer spun around lazily in his desk chair, flipping through a case file when Derek walked up to him.

“Pretty boy! Just who I was looking for!”

Spencer looked up from the folder at Derek and groaned internally, “What’s up?”

Derek half sat on the edge of the desk, barely containing his excitement as his leg bounced.

“How would you like to go out tonight on a date?”

Spencer scrunched up his eyebrows, a vague look of confusion painting his face. He was waiting for the punch like of this joke, or prank or whatever it was Morgan was trying to pull.

“A date?”

“Yep, a date.”

“With who?” Spencer dropped the file on his desk, crossing his hands across his chest and looking up at Derek. A date? He hadn’t even talked to a girl since Maeve. How was he supposed to go on a date?

“This nurse Savannah works with, (Y/N), I think you guys would be a great pair.”

So this wasn’t just another prank. Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“I don’t know, I haven’t, since—“

Derek cut him off, “I know, but it’s been three years Reid. She’d want you to move on.”

Spencer thought about it for a moment. It had crossed his mind recently that he needed to get back out there if he wanted any chance at a family in the future. He came to terms with Maeve’s loss a while ago, but it still felt like he would be cheating on her if he even looked at another woman.

“Look, kid, I think this one could really be worth it. She’s funny, kind, super smart and outgoing, I think you’d make a good match. I wouldn’t even bring it up to you if I didn’t.” Derek looked sincere, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

Spencer thought for a moment and nodded, a sudden feeling of confidence coming over him, “Yeah, yeah okay I’ll go.”

What’s the worst that could happen? She could hate him and end up being a crazy killer? The odds were slim.

“Really?” Derek’s eyes were wide.

“Yeah, if she agrees to it why not?”

Derek slapped the desk and then squeezed Spencer’s shoulders, “Savannah and I will pick you up at 7, loverboy.”

“You and Savann–“ Spencer cut himself off, “Wait it’s a double date?”

Derek shrugged, “Yeah, that way if it goes South we can swoop in. But don’t worry. This date is not going downhill, not on my watch.”

Spencer just laughed lightly and tucked his overgrown hair behind his ear. A slight pang of guilt and dread formed in his stomach but he did his best to ignore it. Maybe this would be good for him? He hoped it was.

————

“No,” you said to Savannah over the nurse’s station.

She was trying to set you up, yet again, on another blind date. She was your best friend and you loved her, but she couldn’t let it go. She was constantly trying to matchmake for you, especially since she met Derek. You always told her she got the last decent guy, to which she’d roll her eyes and say, ‘Your guy is out there!’ You didn’t think that was true anymore.

“Y/N! C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

You rolled your eyes, skimming another patient file, “That’s what you said about Dylan. And Brian. And Craig. And they were not fun Sav!”

You started walking down the hallway and she followed you, shoes squeaking, “This one is different though.”

You stopped and made eye contact with her. She looked hopeful, genuine, sincere. Part of you wanted to say yes, but after several disaster dates with the disaster men that she sent your way you were very doubtful.

“You also said Scott was ‘different’ and he ended up still living in his mother’s basement.”

Savannah laughed and shook her head, “Okay, I was wrong about Scott. But I mean it. Spencer’s special!”

“He’s special?” You sounded bored.

“Yes! He works with Derek. The nerdy kid, remember?”

You vaguely remembered her meeting some of his coworkers and nodded, “Yeah he’s like a genius or whatever?”

“Yes him!”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin over zealously and then finally said, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’. You started down the hall way again, her still following you. She always was persistent, and even a little stubborn.

“Y/N, listen to me. Spencer is like 6’1, smart, lanky, kinda awkward but sweet, nerdy, brown shaggy hair; he’s literally your exact type.”

You sighed, she was right. That is your exact type. If you could build-a-man like build-a-bear, Spencer Reid is who you’d make. Savannah did always prefer the more masculine men like Derek, whereas you had a tendency to go for guys who looked like they ran on coffee and adderall and had sensitive eyes.

“Derek and I will be there too, double date style, just in case you guys need a little nudge.”

“But Sav—“

“Nope, no buts. You’re coming. This is a good one, Y/N. I can feel it.”

“But what about work? What if we get called or they do or?”

You were rambling looking for an excuse not to go. You had no good reason to say no, you were just tired of one too many bad dates.

“Work is NOT getting in the way this time! I’ll see you at 7,” she cooed, waving as she slipped into a patient room.

Maybe she was right, maybe he would be special?

————

So that’s how you ended up sitting across from Spencer Reid in the booth of a diner at 7 pm on a Thursday night.

“I swear I reserved the restaurant for tonight!” Derek said, Savannah on his arm as you all walked a few blocks to the diner. They were Barbie and Ken, just hotter. You and Spencer walked side by side, about a foot between you.

When you had arrived at the fancy restaurant at 6:45 the hostess informed you all that Derek had reserved a table for a Thursday three months from now. The backup plan was the 24-hour diner you and Savannah hit many times post shift.

Spencer sat across from you, folding open the massive menu to find something he’d like. He was exactly how you remembered him: wickedly smart and devilishly handsome.

A dangerous combination.

“So Y/N, Spencer’s from Las Vegas,” Savannah started, not to subtly nudging you under the table with her leg.

“Really? That’s nice, I love Vegas,” You said and Spencer nodded slightly in response, “You’ve been?”

You nodded, “Yeah, for a few girls trips.”

He just nodded and let the conversation die. You felt a little defeated. Was this guy that bad at dates? Or did he just not like you?

True to her word, Savannah stepped in again.

“Today Y/N had a patient throw ice chips at her.”

“What’d you do to make them do that?” Derek said, peeking over the massive menu at you.

You laughed, “That’s not even the worst thing that’s happened.”

“What rotation are you on right now?” Spencer asked you and ordered a Shirley temple. What kind of guy orders a Shirley temple? This guy. This impossibly cute guy, who probably didn’t want you.

“Labor and delivery, so I’ve had many things thrown at me, been called many names,” You laughed and he smiled back.

“I can only imagine.”

“Pretty boy here has actually delivered a baby before,” Derek chimed in.

You stifled a laugh, “Really? Is that so?”

Spencer’s cheeks turned a light pink, “Yeah, actually, and it was not what I expected.”

“Well what did you expect?”

He smirked, “I read all the manuals, I didn’t expect rose petals and magic but that much fluid? Where does it all even come from?”

You and Savannah chuckled, “Squeamish Dr. Reid?”

“Surprisingly, birth is harder to see than some of the dead bodies we get.”

“Hey hey, no dead body and grossness talk at dinner. I’m trying to eat here,” Derek said as the food arrived.

Spencer put his hands up in defeat, “No more dead body talk, I promise.”

You did the same, “No more birth talk, promise!”

You all started to eat, and of course you and Spencer reached for the ketchup at the same time, bumping fingers, like in those teen movies.

“I’m sorry, ladies first,” he said. You grabbed the bottle and squeezed ketchup all over your french fries.

Savannah cringed, “She doesn’t put ketchup on the side of her fries to dip like a normal person, she squeezes it all over top like a psychopath.”

You feigned insult and lightly hit her arm, “Hey! Don’t call me a psychopath in front of all the FBI agents!”

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, you definitely aren’t a psychopath,” Spencer said, offering you a shy smile, “I know psychopaths.”

“Thank you Dr. Reid,” you blushed and he took the ketchup from you, squirting it all over his fries just like you did.

“See! I’m not crazy! He did it too!”

“Probably because you’re both psychopaths,” Savannah giggled and the four of you laughed.

You reached over and took a fry from Spencer’s plate and then you both were finally comfortable. You looked at Savannah once and gave her a thumbs up; she was right, this was a good one.

The rest of the night was perfect. You and Spencer joked and laughed and learned about each other, by the end of the night you almost forgot Derek and Savannah were even there. The two of you were in your own little world, and it was amazing. You would’ve stayed out forever if they would’ve let you.

“We can all hitch a cab?” Derek said as you all stood on the corner. It was cold out and Spencer had so kindly given you his suit jacket. It smelled like fancy cologne, how much more attractive could he be?

You looked at Spencer, and he looked at you, and in that moment you made a decision. You were not going home without this man tonight.

“Actually, I live a few blocks that way,” You said, pointing in the opposite direction, the oversized jacket flopping as you did so, “I’m good to walk home.”

“Would you like some company?” Spencer said, his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I’d love some.”

Derek and Savannah gave each other a knowing look and bid you farewell. Spencer offered his arm and you grabbed it, leading him to your apartment.

As you walked he pointed out sights and told you the history of the landmarks you were passing.

“The Washington Monument was completed in two phases, a private one from 1848 to 1854 and then a public one from 1876 to 1884.”

“Have you ever been up in it?” You asked, stopping to stare up at the huge monument.

“No, have you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I have.”

“Maybe you can take me up next time,” he stammered out, blushing and squeezing your arm tight.

You smiled, blush creeping up your face as well at the thought of a “next time.”

“Yeah, I’d love to, and then I’ll show you the best bakery in DC. I’m a sucker for an eclair.”

You released your arm from the crook of his elbow and grabbed his hand. He grabbed yours back, looking down at you in his jacket in the moonlight. His eyes were shiny and the brown was dark, almost black. His tongue darted in and out of his mouth and he bit on his lip ever so slightly.

You wanted to kiss him. Scratch that. You needed to kiss him. You stopped again and he turned to face you. Just as you went up on your tippy toes to kiss him, he knelt down to your level and connected your lips.

It was a short, sweet, innocent kiss that made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and other places. When you separated you were both grinning ear to ear.

The rest of the walk was hand in hand, him rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and you both talking. When you arrived at the front door, you both paused.

“Well, this is me,” You said and started to unlock the door. He stayed a few steps down, just smiling at you.

“Do you want my—should I give you my phone number?” He said, his voice laced with doubt.

You smiled and turned, “Actually...”

His face fell, a sad expression covering the smile he had moments ago.

“Oh, it’s okay I understand, I-I thought we were having a good time is all,” he mumbled out, rubbing his arms because he was freezing and you still had on his jacket.

“I was going to say would you like to come in?” You said, feeling just as awkward as he did.

His eyes widened, “Uh- do I want to come in?” Even he knew what that was insinuating.

You suddenly felt embarrassed, like you had misread the entire situation, “I mean, only if you want to?”

He regained his confidence a little, “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.” And he followed you inside.

You slid off his suit jacket and laid it nicely over a chair, “Can I get you a drink?”

He nodded, “Water’s fine.”

As you went to the kitchen to find him a glass of water, he made himself at home on the couch. You could’ve sworn you heard him mumbling to himself, but shrugged it off. You sat next to him and placed the two glasses of water on the coffee table.

You turned to him, “So—“

To your surprise, he immediately kissed you again, this time with less innocence and much longer. You kissed back, nipping slightly at his lower lip. The kiss got more and more intense, your tongue moving between his slightly chapped lips. His hands found a home on your hip bones, using his thumbs to rub small circles there. When you separated you both had to take a few slow breaths.

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this on a first date,” you mumbled, scooting closer to him so your thighs were touching.

He grabbed a stray piece of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, “I don’t usually do this at all.”

His hand went to cup your face and he was kissing you again. This time, you leaned back so he could hover over you, his tie laying over your chest.

His hands were on either side of you, and your fingers were running through his messy brown hair. You tugged slightly at the root, making him moan and open his mouth even more to you.

Slowly you reached down to fumble with his tie, his hand reached up to stop you.

“Patience,” he mumbled into your lips before kissing down your cheek and across your jaw. Each kiss sent jolts through your body, making the peach fuzz on your neck stand up. You put your hands back where they were in his hair, and one of his hands stayed next to you, supporting him, and the other landed on your hip. His lips found a spot just under your ear, and he sucked on it slightly making you moan and shut your eyes.

“The ears are a neglected erogenous zone,” he said against your skin before nipping and biting at the lobe.

“I-I like it,” you breathed out as you reached back for his tie and undid it, tossing it somewhere across from the couch.

“Should we take this somewhere else?”

You nodded, and in one motion he picked you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and giggled as you led him to your bedroom. He laid you on your bed gently.

You scooted up to the pillows and propped yourself up on your elbows, “Lose the shirt, Dr. Reid.”

He raised and eyebrow at you but did what you asked and soon his dress shirt and undershirt were on the floor. He was slim but covered in muscle. You bit your lip at the thought how scratch marks would look down his back.

“It’s rude to stare,” he joked, and another redhot flush graced your cheeks.

You absentmindedly rubbed your legs together in anticipation as he began to undo his belt. You felt like it was only fair that you undressed too, so you took off your dress and laid out in your bra and underwear.

When he returned to hovering over you he smiled, sloppy kisses running from your lips and down your neck. You silently cursed yourself for not wearing nicer undergarments, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind as he palmed your breasts over your beige bra. You moaned into the skin of his shoulder and started to kiss and suck there. Your hands scratched down is back, leaving red lines in their wake. He grabbed your bra straps and pulled them off your shoulders, pulling the bra down to expose you to him.

With a sharp intake of breath, his mouth was around one of your nipples, sucking on it and twisting it between his lips. His free hand came up to pinch the other bud, making you moan loudly again. You arched your back to meet him, and his hand left your chest to force you back down.

You whimpered as you felt him hard and hot against your thigh. Then he switched sides, wanting to give you equal attention. He stayed there until you begged him to stop.

“S-Spencer,” you said between breathy moans, “Just fuck me already.”

He pulled back and blew on your chest lightly, sending shivers down your spine and wetness to your center.

He stopped and looked at you, his eyes warm and full of concern, “Are you sure?”

You writhed underneath him, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m clean. I’m protected. Please. I need you.”

He completely removed your bra and underwear now, leaving you naked beneath him. You pulled his boxers down slightly, so he could spring out. You pumped him a few times and ran the tip across your entrance, making both of you groan. He kissed you kindly, like he had in front of the washington monument, and then slid inside of you.

You groaned at the feeling, clutching the sheets beside you as he let you adjust.

“Okay?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Do something Spencer, please.”

And with that he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, stopping when he bottomed out. You wrapped your thighs around his waist and pulled him in closer to you while your hands tugged at his hair. The sounds falling from both of you were obscene and delicious. It was hard to tell where he started and you ended.

“Fuck,” he groaned, falling from his hands to his elbows over you. Your chests touched and he stuck his thumb in your mouth. You instinctively sucked in it and he took it between your thighs to start stroking figure-eights on your clit. You groaned and arched into him.

“Don’t stop,” You mumbled, kissing whatever skin your mouth could reach.

“I’m close,” he whispered, sweat dripping off his forehead and onto you but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he was winding you up with his fingers, getting you closer and closer to the edge. You stared up at him, his hair stuck to his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed. You made eye contact and he caught your lips in a lusty kiss.

“Wait for me,” you ordered, scratching more lines down his back as your orgasm took over. Your vision went black, your whole body tensing as you pulsed around him.

He rode your high with you while chasing his own.

“Where can I?”

“My mouth,” you said, as he pulled out and put his tip between your lips. You used your hands and mouth to finish him before he came.

The two of you flopped on the bed panting, then started laughing. You turned to lay your head on his chest, “I’m glad I went out tonight.”

He pulled you close to him, so your head was just above his pounding heart, “So am I.” And he kissed your forehead.

You snuck out of his arms to get cleaned up and returned to your spot on his chest. There he stroked your back lightly until you both fell asleep.

————

The next morning you were turned away from Spencer, your butts touching slightly making you chuckle. You looked over at him and he was still soundly sleeping, looking even more adorable than he had the night before, if that was even possible.

You looked for your phone and saw two missed calls from Savannah. You called her back.

“Hey,” you whispered so you wouldn’t wake Spencer.

“Sooo what’d you think? What’d you guys do? Did you....”

You rolled your eyes, “It was a great night Savannah.”

She squealed on the other side, “YES! I knew it. You owe me $15!” She called to Derek, who was no doubt listening on the other end. You had to stifle a laugh.

“So there’s a second date in your future? I don’t have to keep setting you up?”

You looked over at Spencer, his hair falling in angelic waves around his face. You admired the lips you had grown to know last night and couldn’t wait to feel them again.

“No more setting me up,” You whispered, “And you were right Sav, this one is special.”

You couldn’t tell but Spencer was awake, his mouth turning up into a smile as he overheard your conversation. When you hung up he stretched as if he has just woken up.

“Hey,” he said, voice raspy and groggy.

“Hey,” you placed a peck on his lips.

“How about breakfast is date number two?”

[olivemac]

heartbeat | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence , smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | coarse language

master list | AO3 link

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prev chapter

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Kate is on the next commercial flight to Bucharest. She's worried Bucky will move on before she can get to him, but she knows Tony would never approve of the use of one of his jets to chase down an ex-assassin in hiding. The less he knows, the better. Which is why she told him she was escaping to Europe for a long respite after feeling oh so overwhelmed with her work at Stark Industries.

Tony barely bats an eye when she told him. There were some advantages to being Tony Starks' baby sister. The first being he feels guilty about his ineptness at raising her after their parents' death and would literally let her get away with murder. The second is an almost unlimited bank account left to her by her father and supplemented by Tony's previously mentioned guilt.

Kate Stark was her mother’s mid-life crisis. Maria, three decades younger than her husband, had – at forty-two years old – decided she wanted another baby. Tony, who was eighteen at the time, had balked at the idea. But Howard relented and called in the best team of fertility doctors money could buy, and Kate was born.

She doesn't remember her parents, not really. She was only three when they died, and she doesn't remember that event either. Though she was there, in the car, when it crashed on Long Island.

Tony's only ever spoken to her about it once, after she accused him of hating her for surviving when their parents died. Really, he hated that he survived.

When rescue workers arrived at the scene of the wreck, they found her parents dead in the front seat and her tucked safely into her car seat in the back, bundled up against the December cold. She was an orphan, and Tony, at twenty-one, was suddenly responsible for a toddler.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He hired a series of nannies to raise her, then sent her off to boarding school as soon as she was old enough, all the while playing genius, billionaire playboy.

He wasn’t surprised when it turned out she was just as smart as him or their father. And it surprised him less when she followed in his footsteps and attended MIT. What did surprise him was when she started hacking government databases for fun. She only agreed to work for him at Stark Industries in exchange for him not sticking Rhodey on her after she released documents regarding the US Air Force‘s involvement in some less that savory overseas dealings.

On the plane, she starts an email to Steve telling him where she was headed and what she had found. Then she deletes it and starts over. Then deletes that. She chews her thumbnail and thinks. If she tells Steve where Bucky is, he'll come blazing in, shield at the ready, and Bucky will.... She doesn’t know what Bucky will do, but she has a feeling the encounter would end with a fight and Bucky running. Which will kill Steve. Again. So, she decides she doesn't need to tell Steve – not right away. She'll see if she can figure out what Bucky remembers – if anything – before telling Steve where he is.

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A little over forty-eight hours after her software found Bucky, Kate is assembling IKEA furniture in her new studio apartment in Romania. Getting the landlord to lease her the empty flat next to Bucky's was easy enough when Kate offered him double what he was asking in rent. He was discreet enough to not ask any questions. Most of the people in the building were hiding from something so a young American woman who paid cash upfront wasn't the most unusual thing he'd dealt with.

She makes her bed, unpacks her suitcase, and re-reads the Winter Soldier file. That night she dreams of her parents and the wreck that killed them. In the dream there's always a man outside of the car, but she can never see his face. Her father begs for help: "Help my wife, my daughter. Please. Help."

She wakes up sweating, a scream caught in her throat.

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The apartment next to his is no longer empty. Bucky can hear music and soft footsteps through the paper-thin walls. If he focuses his hearing, he can hear a heartbeat other than his own, but he's working to turn off the super soldier reflexes, so he tries to ignore it. He's enjoyed the silence that the empty apartment afforded him, and he hopes the new tenant isn’t as nosy as his neighbor in Kiev who had asked so many questions. He hadn't stayed long after that meeting.

Around two in the morning, he wakes to the sound of a strangled cry from his new neighbor. Bucky sits up straight, suddenly on alert. He listens closely, focusing for the sounds of a struggle, but he only hears the unfamiliar heartbeat. His neighbor was having a nightmare, he imagines. He had plenty of those himself.

Sometimes he was staring down the barrel of a gun, his only intent to kill. Other nightmares took him back to the HYDRA base and their machine that scrambled his thoughts over and over again. And others found him falling from a train, the blonde man from the Triskelion reaching out toward him. He always wakes up just before he hits the icy river he knows awaits him.

Bucky knows now that the blonde man is Steve Rogers. Without HYDRA's influence, he's started to remember more: flashes of Steve and a group called the Howling Commandos during the war, but also flashes of Steve before the war, smaller, shorter. And flashes of a family – his family – a father, a mother, a sister. Rebecca. The name comes to him one afternoon while he's browsing the used bookstore near his flat.

He's started eating plums and jogging to improve his memory. He isn't sure if it's helping, but the memories are becoming longer and more frequent. He sees himself with Steve at Coney Island, riding the Cyclone until Steve lost his lunch and Bucky laughed so hard tears were streaming down his face, and he sees himself flirting with an auburn-haired combat nurse in Italy, following her back to her tent and undressing her slowly.

He wakes the next morning feeling restless. He had slept in fits and starts, listening for any more disturbances from next door. None came.

He dresses and goes for a run, and when he returns, he catches his first glimpse of his new neighbor. She's coming out of her apartment, her face turned downward toward her phone. When he reaches the top of the stairs, she lifts her head and smiles. Bucky is struck by how pretty she is, a thought he hasn't let himself have since leaving HYDRA. He turns away quickly and slams the door to his own apartment. He doesn't need pink lips and dark curls reminding him of what he can never have again. He's too broken for her, or anyone else for that matter.

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Bucky has seen his new neighbor more times in five days than he's seen anyone else in the building over the past two months. They always seem to be coming or going at the same time.

The first time he actually speaks to her, she's dropping groceries up the stairs from a rip in her canvas bag.

"Fuck," she mutters as an apple rolls beneath the railing and falls to the landing below.

Bucky has a brief vision of her uttering that same word while his head is buried between her legs, but he shakes if off quickly.

"Let me," he says in English, scooping up some rogue potatoes and taking the bag from her.

"Thanks," she says before unlocking her door and holding it open for him.

Her apartment is the same layout as his – one room, with a tiny bathroom at the front and a small kitchen along the back wall. He sets the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and steps back.

"I should—"

"Thank you—"

They both speak at the same time. Bucky bows his head and motions for her to continue.

"Thank you for your help." She pauses. "And it's nice to speak English for a change. My Romanian is atrocious," she laughs. "How’d you guess?"

"All the music you listen to is in English," he replies brusquely.

She cringes. "Sorry. I'll turn it down."

"No," he says, "It's fine. Really."

There's an awkward pause as they both stare at each other.

Bucky breaks the silence first. "I should go."

"Right." She leads him to the door. "Thanks."

Bucky nods.

When his own apartment door closes behind him, he sighs and scrubs his right hand over his face. He needs to avoid her. He doesn't need anything to distract him from regaining his memories, and he certainly doesn't need to get close to someone he'll inevitably hurt. He doesn’t even begin let himself entertain the thought that she could be a HYDRA agent waiting to turn him in.

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Later that evening, he's startled by a knock at his door. When he peers into the hallway, there's a plate of food on the floor, covered with a cloth and a note. He picks it up.

Thanks for saving my groceries.

- Kate

Bucky considers the possibilities that she is a HYDRA agent and the food is poisoned, but he decides it's unlikely HYDRA would take that approach. If anything, they would want their soldier back, and if they didn't, they wouldn't kill him quickly. Also, he can't remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal – definitely before the war – and he’s starving. Protein bars aren’t really cutting it anymore.

He studies the note as he eats. He runs his fingers over the name written in curling handwriting: Kate, and debates what his next move should be. He needs to ignore her – for her own safety – but his mother raised a gentleman so he should at least thank her for dinner, right?

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Kate nearly steps on the plate when she leaves her flat the next morning for a run. It’s sitting right at her doorway, clean, the dish towel she had with it folded with a note peeking out.

Kate,

You’re welcome. Thank you for dinner.

- Bucky

If she knew how long Bucky had agonized over whether to write back, she probably would have cried. Kate definitely would have cried if she knew he had debated whether or not to sign the note “Bucky” or “James.” He’s been using James at any off-the-books odd jobs he can get, but with his memories returning, he’s been feeling more like the Bucky Steve referred to in DC.

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Kate makes a potato soup that night and leaves it outside his door sans note. She brings him dinner for a week straight before she asks him to dine with her.

"Come over,” she says the next time they pass in the hall.

"What?" Bucky freezes.

"Come over tonight,” Kate repeats, “for dinner.”

"Why?" He sounds rude. He should really work on that, but she’s caught him in one of his broodier moods after another sleepless night.

"Why not?” she shrugs. “I have wine."

He’s staring at her. He realizes he needs to stop staring at her and answer.

“Okay.”

“Seven thirty?” she suggests.

"Okay," he replies.

"Okay," she laughs.

For a second, Bucky wonders if she's laughing at him, but there's a softness in her eyes that makes him think not. Talking to women used to be easy, he thinks. It took him hours to come up with the simplest response to her note the other night, and now he can't even form a sentence in front of her. He spends the rest of the day worrying he's made a huge mistake in accepting her invitation.

He's not the only one. Kate has half a mind to call it all off, phone Steve, and get on the next plane back to New York. What if he doesn't remember anything? What if he's still the Winter Soldier? She has a brief vision of Bucky snapping and wrapping that metal hand he's been hiding around her throat – and not in a fun way. But when he knocks on her door at seven thirty, she thinks she might actually die from how sweet he looks.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, running his tongue over his lips nervously.

They're caught in another awkward moment of just staring at each other when she finally invites him.

The old Bucky would have bought flowers and then made some quip about how the flowers aren't nearly as beautiful as she is, but this Bucky – post-HYDRA Bucky – feels like he's forgotten how to interact with women at all and his tongue has suddenly turned to lead.

Kate's debated how much to reveal about herself. Finally, she decides she'll tell him everything. Well, mostly everything. He doesn't need to know that she's a Stark or friends with Steve Rogers or here on some crazy rescue mission to save the Winter Soldier because maybe, just maybe, she read his file one too many times and got caught up in the look in Steve's eyes when he talked about Bucky. No, he doesn't need to know that.

Kate's also considered how much to ask him about himself. She wants to know what – if anything – he remembers, but she also doesn't want to give herself away by revealing she knows who he really is. And she doubts he’ll tell her outright. The fact that he signed the note Bucky seems like a good indication that his memories are returning, though.

"How long have you been in Bucharest, Bucky?" she asks, plating their dinner.

"Almost two months," he says.

"Here for work?" she asks casually.

"Uh...it's complicated," he says, scratching at the back of his neck. "You?"

She looks up at him. "It's complicated."

They're staring at each other again, and Bucky has to force himself to look away.

"Family?" she asks.

"Also complicated," he says. God, he thinks, he sounds like a jackass. But it's not like he can tell her he's a ninety-eight-year-old ex-assassin in hiding so his family is probably long dead.

She motions for him to sit at her small kitchen table and sets a plate in front of him.

"You're not hiding a wedding ring under those gloves, are you?" she asks, a smirk on her lips. She knows about his arm; she just wants to see what he’ll give away.

He blushes and looks at his hands. Then he realizes he's taking too long to answer, and she probably thinks he's an idiot. "No... uh...no. No," he finally says without elaborating.

Kate can sense he's nervous so she does what Tony would do in a situation like this and just keeps talking. She tells him about Tony – minus the Stark detail. She talks about MIT and New York and the last book she read. He listens closely, laughing softly when she makes jokes and asking questions where appropriate. He likes the way her lips look when they form his name and the way her eyes light up at her own humor.

When they finish eating, Bucky helps her wash dishes. She considers asking him to stay, watch a movie or something, but then she thinks maybe she should take this slowly, not overwhelm him, so she bids him goodnight and closes the door behind him.

Bucky thinks Kate might be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Then he thinks that might be because she’s the first woman he’s interacted with in so long. Either way, he tries not to think of her that night when his body remembers what it's like to be a man.

He decides that staying away from her would be too hard.

On the other side of the wall, she’s thinking of him, too. She hadn't expected his eyes to be so impossibly blue. She had stared at the black and white military photo for hours, but seeing him in person, she was caught in the Arctic waters that made up his eyes.

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