#not wanting to straight up admit their desires to her because I mean… they’re pretty fucked

[darrk-rrom]

Shoko watching so casually like she’s watching a nature documentary is sending me- that’s too perfect.

While Gojo and Geto were close, they were never quite as attached at the hip as people seemed to believe. Were they each others best friends? Of course, if you asked Gojo at least. However, they each had their own likes and interests that separate them and solidify them as separate people with their own beings and autonomy.

Those things did not include you.

You were something the boys first chatted about, bonding more and more and growing closer the more they discussed you. You’re a little pathetic, at least compared to them, but you try so hard!! It’s adorable!! You’re a never ending source of entertainment for them and they’ll never let that go.

Over time, you become something more. In the quiet of Gojo’s home, as they watch tv without really seeing what’s on the screen, you drift into their minds and they find themselves silently in agreement at how to handle it- it starts with them jerking off to the thought of you. Silent as they fist their cocks and cum, quick to move on from it and return to the movie. Like it’s an act to be ashamed of.

Then it becomes more feral- they start sharing their fantasies with each other, pleasuring their bodies to their warped imaginings and seeking out more. They spend too much time searching for porn staring someone who looks like you. They talk even more about what each of them would do to you… then what they want the other to do to you. Gojo wants to watch Geto fuck you so hard you can’t even stand, Geto wants Gojo to choke you with his cock, they want to watch you cry as they force themselves into your holes together. Geto wants to see you covered in their cum. Gojo wants to see if they could make you ride them.

Eventually the fantasy isn’t enough. The pornstar isn’t enough. They aren’t enough for each other anymore. They can’t go on like this, it’s started to affect their daily lives.

You bend over to pick up something you’ve dropped and in that moment Gojo is tempted to slam into you, prepared or not. Right here in the middle of this public space… Geto tells him later he wishes he did exactly that.

You fall asleep at your desk, and Geto uses your hand to get himself off. Gojo licks your hand clean when he’s done, but you wake up before he can take a turn with you.

You’re all trapped in a crowded train, and both thrust against you as subtly as they can, blaming the rocking train if you dare to comment on it.

They invite you over more now. Something in you tells you not to accept, and it kills them every time. Gojo is so hard he could burst right in front of you as he invites you to a movie, and you turning him down has him furiously jerking off as he whines to Geto.

They finally get you in a movie theater. A public place where you think you’re safe. It’s more crowded than either of them would like… for now… so you get away without being plugged and fucked stupid, however the entire time you watch the screen Geto is massaging your thighs, and you swear Gojo was panting into your ear and sniffing your hair.

They know you’re avoiding them at this point. And why wouldn’t you. Just the other day they cornered you in a library of all places, whispering dirty things to you, pretending that they weren’t imagining you as they whisper hypotheticals to themselves and tell you all about their kinks that DEFINITELY don’t involve you , don’t even worry about it. But how hot would this be, watch we’ll demonstrate- turn around and face Geto for a minute. What? No Gojo’s not humping you, don’t be silly. Don’t worry about Geto’s hands in your shirt he’s just showing you what he meant by that sex fantasy. It’s just to give you an example don’t freak out. God you take everything too seriously!

It takes Shoko agreeing to their demands to get you to agree to finally join them for a house party. You don’t even step inside before the guys have to step away to fuck their hands and whisper to each other how excited they are to finally have you to themselves.

When you do cross the threshold they hold back, just long enough to make you relax, focused on Shoko as you both chat about the game you’re playing, and she pours you another drink that you don’t hesitate to down. They finally have you now, and all their plans will come alive. Just Geto and Gojo, fulfilling their dreams and using your body to do it. Nothing can stop them now that it’s just the three of you together. Though they promised Shoko she could watch in exchange for her cooperation.

You have such shady friends you know. You shouldn’t have trusted her with your drinks.

THE ENDING AHHHHHH THE BETRAYAL

Ugh this has me so feral I'm gonna be thinking about this all week now.

Like only going just because Shoko was there just for her to be the one to hand you over to them and slip something in your drink omg 😭

Just waking up to them deep inside you, hearing Geto groan as you clench around him as you hazily start to process what's happening and Gojo grips onto you tighter.

You can't even get any words out, just soft gasps and whimpers as they use your body like you're just a doll made for their pleasure.

And as you forcefully turn your head to the side after Gojo forces you to kiss them, your eyes go wide as you see Shoko sitting there in a chair, casually leaning back with her legs crossed as she watches her two closest friends thrusting into you.

And now you're stuck there because who would ever question two fine men like them?

[crimeronan]

Oh man I’m just very head full many thoughts about this AU again this morning, so question:

_Does_ Hunter not want to be the Golden Guard in the same way Luz doesn’t want to be Empress? Like obviously he doesn’t want to leave Luz and is working on dismantling the Empire and it’s authority but does he just have days where he’s like “one of these days I am going to grab Luz and fucking book it to the Knee or the Toes or somewhere and we can live like hermits in the wild I am so tired of this,”

And follow up if he does have those thoughts: Does Luz realize he does? Like does she realize that just because he loves her and wants to protect her doesn’t mean he isn’t just as exhausted of this whole schtick as she is? I wonder if the only reason Luz has never got a decent answer to the question of what Hunter would do in his own life is because she’s always picturing herself Not In It. And if she’d get an actually okay answer if she asked Hunter what he’d like to do when they’re done with the Empire and can do anything they want

hunter thinks about this constantly. CONSTANTLY.

arguably he's straight-up admitted to it, albeit in a projecting way: that moment when he tells camila "if you think you can go play house with her back in the human realm, i'm telling you now, she won't go." he's like well EYE know her and love her enough not to even ask. get on my level.

he would Love to just take luz somewhere quiet where nobody knows either of them and hole up in a house for the winter without worrying about anything except food and water and sleep. he has a pretty reasonable suspicion that she would immediately become 90% calmer and 100% more able to tolerate the non-calm parts.

but he knows luz won't be able to live with herself if she abandons the kingdom.

so he hasn't even Considered asking. he's not gonna convince her to stop caring. if he asks, then luz will not Only have to tell him no, but Then she'll spiral about how she's making hunter miserable by refusing to leave, and how hunter should just go off on his own, even though that's the last thing he'd Ever do.

hunter hasn't let himself think much about an after-empire future because it's hard to believe in it. his primary emotional priority is being with luz, and this is what luz's life is, so this is what hunter's life is. but he would LOVE to grab her and run. if luz woke up one day like "i think i need to abandon the empire or i am going to actually die," hunter would be like "great. i can speed pack, i already know the least populated route out of here. let's GOOO"

luz knows that hunter is currently incredibly fucking stressed out and exhausted and frequently unhappy. but she is also a self-loathing idiot who defaults to seeing herself as the problem, instead of their circumstances. luz is like wow it sucks how i'm evil and am destroying him slowly. as if the thing wearing hunter down is not Literally The Exact Same Thing that's wearing her down....

i think if the question was "what should we do when this is all over," hunter would indeed be able to come up with a better answer. he'd probably need a little while to think it over, but at least he'd be able to Conceptualize it.

he wants to go somewhere warm and quiet. he wants to sleep. he wants luz to be there.

pretty simple desires, all things considered!

[plumsaffron]

Seems this ask wouldn’t post so screenshot it. Anyways...

Very well. Your roasting streak was an epic run though. Mad close to going up to 20.

Heh black and insanity. Them miracushit fic writers or saltwipes be the embodiment of Adam, Lute, and the exorcists from Hazbin Hotel

I spawned around the end of season 3 but seems they are after observing them long enough in the past. Well they still are. They just want to be out of touch or perishing in their twisted delusion tumors.

They be like when Lila since Volpina...

Sigh so many Miracubitchwipes

But yeah they love being out of touch (This will be long)

Literally it shows and tells every sign of Marinette/Ladybug in the wrong and Adrien/Cat Noir seeing Ladybug is being foul or questioning why she’s wildin, somehow got translated by miraculosers into being this is all Lila’s fault and or Marinette should have more reasons to hate some new girl or Lila deserves worse.

I heard that viewers made these presumptions of what they thought of when they saw a new possible hero (Volpina) in a screenshot. Unfortunately what they assumed was not how they thought. Instead of realizing that Marinette screwed up in their and Adrien/Cat Noir’s face, they scapegoated Lila. Pretty interesting it appears they discard Adrien’s perspective in this.

It seems as Lila was absent for the next season til the finale they deluded themselves into this Lila and Marinette shipping thing because they thought this might be how it would go (This um Lila hate Ladybug but likes Marinette or Lila’s pretty so I wish she stopped being Lila and be their standards of interests). Alternatively, they believed Lila would be Chloe’s replacement (Very interesting they presumed she’d be the mean girl or bully and the refusal to admit Marinette is Rossi's bully/harasser and Lila hasn’t done anything to anyone).

Then they didn’t get what they wanted again (Heroes Day Catalyst/Mayura.) and once again they are only scoping what Lila does and Ignoring Marinette. Heck even Alya was like ugh not again. I could talk about how Kagami was assigned as Lila The Second by Marinette in S2 and how the lame-os followed it and been fugly to her til Ikari Gozen or Mr Pigeon but nah.

Anyways Chameleon. Once again, same pattern. Unsatisfied presumptions, unfulfilled desires, targeting Lila. New thing, wilding out on Adrien Alya and The Class, and making it out as if Lila harassed Marinette and bullied her. They inhale Marinette’s mindset too much despite seeing this may not be the right way to go about it (Seems they forgot of the Christmas Special or Whenever she thinks of the worst or how she’s been to Kagami, etc.). Lila got straight up clamutilated and these pests still wanna be that’s not enough while also discarding Adrien telling Marinette helpful insight. Not only that, everything went against Lila favor.

Yet they are still unsatisfied. It’s almost like they don’t want Marinette to be good or their disturbed well being to stop being disturbed. These Marimites are the type of clowns that purchase a videogame and are unsatisfied because the disc front cover is less blue than that other discs they have of such videogame.

They have all this insight (eg. Environment, Hawk Moth, Akumatized Victims, Not Everyone Is Not The Same, Characters or Heroes being wrong, and Other observed factors.) and yet somehow Lila makes them erase everything they know or can go about. They rather make excuses or loops against specifically her (even to the point it may affect other characters). They’re selectively allergic and motley to her.

It seems the only Lila they accept is a Lila for shipfuel, a Lila that sucks off their collective template trash, or Lila for the protagonist’s interests. Otherwise she is seen as unfathomable evil and anyone that crossed or screwed with her must be seen in the unquestionably right. Miracutrites be saying they want to know more about her, but it looks like they don’t actually want to, but rather, do the usual thing or wishing or wanting something deadly inherently wrong with her to justify their years of hating her.

Seems like they are starving for reasons to put her down, see her as less for strange relatability, or to be seeing her as inhumane or an accident. Heck lots can’t even see a possibility that characters (like her moms) may accept her for her.

Claims of wanting backstory but it appears to be a lot simply want something that averts protagonist being in the wrong or the root cause of what happened (Which is ironic considering their hatred of retcons). The very things told canonically of leave Lila alone or don’t obsess, don’t be jealous, don't chase after her is too much to accept as well. They prefer putting her down or taking her out and ignoring what really happened or capitalizing on about everything Lila does.

They’ll never accept, or let go, or ignore who she is or what she does. Something so simple but too complicated to them. Shame and this can also imply that they don’t accept Adrien or Alya for them because their perspective wasn’t in sync with Marinette’s when they wanted it (despite Adrien/Alya’s POV is not for chaos).

The irony is their fugly mantra against Lila Rossi is that it’s based on lies they told themselves that they wish to be reconfigured as the truth because they refused to take an L or see things from another angle.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems

Serodeku:

Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes

They skate together

They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”

They play dnd together

Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest

They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible

Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato

After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there

Tokodeku:

Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it

Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight

They start a dnd club at U.A.

Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding

Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow

Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible

Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:

Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously

Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute

They help each other train their quirks

Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.

Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese

Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content

Monoshinsou:

They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.

They judge people together

They call each other “love”

They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They jokingly sh*t-talk class A

Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class

Monoyama:

Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other

I love them so much, please 😭✋

They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip

They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone

They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other

Momomei:

They work on gear together!!!

Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep

Mei helps redesign momo’s suit

They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such

They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct

Shintsuyu:

Dude they’d be so cute

Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less

I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku

They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku

Kamideku:

Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it

Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated

I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster

Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time

Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages

Momochako:

Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot

Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices

Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this

Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush

Minatoru:

Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru

They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other

Please, they’re so cute 😭✋

They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.

Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child

Toru says that pink is her favorite color

They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.

Iidamomo:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive

They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it

They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.

The go hiking a lot

They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning

They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.

KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:

Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much

They train together, obviously

They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.

They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.

So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.

The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.

So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.

Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.

They have two anniversaries after that.

Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is

Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired

Tsujirou:

Jirou makes playlists for tsu

The few sane ones in class A, I swear

They go on walks in the rain as often as they can

They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read

Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺

Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared

Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was

Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.

She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried

Izujirou:

They make playlists for each other

They go for runs on the beach a lot

They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music

Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.

They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell

So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.

So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”

May this awkward couple be forever blessed

Tokoyama:

Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it

At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”

They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in

They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting

Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”

Shinyama:

They flirt constantly

No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.

They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”

^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.

Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room

Iiyama:

Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit

Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:

Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-

Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-

Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-

Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-

Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤

Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch

Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.

Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’

Kirikamideku:

My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them

They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas

Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them

They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)

Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends

Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

[anamatics]

From your prompts list - 81. “I feel like I’m being stabbed.” / “How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?” - this is Winter finding out about the time Weiss got impaled lol

okay first of all, ow. Second of all, enjoy my vague handwaving in some Bees Schnees directions.

Curfew, 1.7k

October in Atlas means the sun doesn’t come up until nine o’clock in the morning and goes down just after three in the afternoon. Weiss, the last time she came home, found herself unused to the long nights after spending much of her year in Vale hating how each day and night was, roughly, the same length. This time, she’s used to it in a way that no one else is. Blake hates it, hates the darkness and the cold, snuggling up to Yang each night once she thinks Weiss and Ruby have gone to sleep.

The problem is that Weiss doesn’t sleep well in Atlas. She sleeps better here, safely locked away behind the academy walls, than she has in her nearly two decades of life living in this kingdom. Part of it, she knows, is that Winter is two floors up in the officer’s quarters. This is the closest they’ve been to each other at night since Weiss was nearly eleven and Winter left and never came back.

Weiss turns over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling for a long moment. There’s no helping it. She shoves the duvet aside, tugs on a discarded sweatshirt from the pile on the floor, and slips out the door.

The hallways of the academy are dimly lit at this hour of the night, and Weiss wanders up to the balcony that overlooks the parade grounds just off the mess. She sits there, staring out at the city that’s been her prison for so much of her life.

A dream amongst the clouds and the cold, Atlas glows blue and beautiful the scant moonlight that breaks through the cover. Weiss’s breath fogs the window. She presses her palm to the glass. The coolness is grounding, it lets her drift.

The pressure at her side, the near constant ache since they left Mistral, rears its ugly head. Weiss curls her arm around herself, fingers curling against the glass. Close your eyes, push it away. It’s just phantom pain. Yang has it too.

If she doesn’t think about it, it will go away.

Yang told her that. You gotta just power through, it’ll pass.

Weiss inhales. Exhales. Counts the breaths.

This, too, shall pass.

The sound of approaching footsteps fills the hallway. Weiss’s fingers twitch already halfway to twisting the threads of her aura together to form a glyph. She stares at the figure in the reflection on the glass, still foggy with her breath.

“Technically, there is a curfew for cadets.”

Weiss’s lips twist into a lopsided smile. “Good thing I’m not a soldier.”

She’s met with a hum of agreement. Winter approaches, stopping just outside of Weiss’s reach. “It’s nearly midnight. Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Weiss tilts her head to look at her sister. Winter’s jacket is folded under her arm, her tie undone at her neck and three buttons on her shirt undone. She looks as wrecked as Weiss feels, dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is pulled back in messy bun, curling a bit as though she’s been out into the humid night air of Atlas this time of year.

Winter hesitates for a moment, before setting her jacket down on the bench Weiss is leaning against and settling down beside her. She smells a bit like smoke and a bit like booze and a bit like something Weiss cannot place. Perfume? No, that’s not quite right. Weiss’s eyebrows shoot up. Cologne?

A beat of comfortable silence fills the space between them. Winter’s thigh presses against Weiss’s. The traveler’s crease at the front of her trousers pulls flat as Winter stretches her leg out in front of them.

“So, why are you just getting in?”

Winter exhales. She definitely smells like cigarette smoke. “I had a social engagement.”

This is the sort of information that Weiss chews over, another piece of the secret life her sister’s lead since she left home. The one Weiss knows so little about, but the one she so clearly is still living. It is so alien, watching her sister interact with others – watching the easy way she speaks to Penny, the way General Ironwood trusts her implicitly and the Ace Ops clearly see her as a mentor. And yet Winter doesn’t seem to have friends outside of work. She seems to exist simply to work.

So it’s with some hesitation that Weiss nudges Winter’s shin with her foot, a teasing tone creeping into her voice. “You have a social life?”

“A… colleague asked me for a drink, catch up.” Winter shrugs, fiddles with her watch strap. Her eyes flick to Weiss, before they turn back to the shifting clouds over the city. “You haven’t been sleeping since you got here.”

And there’s no answer to that, other than the truth. Weiss pulls the sleeves of the sweatshirt – Yang’s sweatshirt that smells like Blake’s deodorant: earthy and crisp, like rosemary just pressed – and curls her hands around the fabric. “When I close my eyes in this place, it fells like all the air goes out of the room.”

“It was months before I slept soundly,” Winter confesses. Up close, Weiss thinks her eyes look like Mother’s at mid-day. Not quite all the way to drunk but not exactly sober. “I got caught out after curfew – one I had to mind – often because sleep wouldn’t come.”

“What did you do?” Weiss asks.

“Got a running habit.” Winter looks to Weiss. “And then some other, far less healthy ones.”

Nose wrinkling, Weiss hums. “You’d think you’d avoid it entirely, given how much it ruins things.”

Winter draws her knee up and wraps her arms around it. She rests her chin on her knee, eyes fixed straight ahead. She says nothing for long enough that Weiss wonders if she shouldn’t have said that at all. Her mind races, think for something she can say to fix it, when Winter says a non-sequitur, but one which recalls the original intent of her question. “There are restrictions as to who can access these premises, Weiss. With good reason.”

And as much as she wants it to matter, it doesn’t. He’s father, he can open any door, he can sniff out any lie. “It doesn’t matter.”

A warm weight settles over her shoulder and Winter’s fingers curl around her arm. Weiss leans against her, head tucked up under Winter’s chin like she did so often when they were children and hiding in some unused part of the house from Father’s rages.

“Sometimes,” the words are like sandpaper in Weiss’s mouth, “when I think about being back here, my heart beats so fast I feel like I’m being stabbed.”

“How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?”

Oh.

“Winter, something happened in Mistral.”

Weiss retreats from the warmth of her sister. She turns, sitting cross legged, and pulls her hand away from her side and tugs off the sweatshirt. The tank top she’s wearing underneath has already ridden up her stomach a bit and she tugs the hem up and looks away. Lets Winter see the scar. Lets Winter see her shame.

Eyes wide, Winter leans in, brushing her fingers against the raised skin at Weiss’s abdomen. With her hand there, Weiss is remined, yet again, that the scar is the size of Winter’s fist. “Weiss, this is…” Winter drags her eyes up to meet Weiss’s and her expression turns deathly serious. “What happened?”

“I looked away.” Weiss lets her tank top fall down back over the scar and pulls the sweatshirt over her head. “I was too slow and I looked away.”

“That wound would have – would have—”

“It didn’t.” Weiss knows her voice sounds harsh, but she refuses to admit what happened in that context. “But it was a close thing. If Jaune—"

Winter pulls her close again. “I should have stayed in Mistral. We could have delayed the withdrawal a few more weeks. I could have – I should have been there.”

There’s no reason for that, no reason for Winter to blame herself for this. “This isn’t your fault. I was the one who was too slow. I was the one who turned my back on Cinder Fall.”

“It’s my duty to protect you Weiss.”

“You said you wouldn’t always be around to save me,” Weiss points out.

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get the chance to try.”

And Weiss has nothing to say to that, because there is nothing to say. Winter will always talk a big game, but still want to be there, still want to try to do the right thing. It’s lost time, it’s making up for a lifetime of silences like the one that stretches out between them. One that’s uncomfortable when they’re so used to trading comfortable silences as a currency for survival.

It’s nice, leaning against Winter like this. Where Winter can be a solid, tangible object of support. Weiss inhales, Blake’s deodorant and Yang’s shampoo mingling with the strong, crisp scent of her sister’s cologne. Cologne. It’s then the question bursts, unbidden, from Weiss. “Were you on a date?”

Winter freezes, body stock still.

“Why… would you ask that?”

“You smell nice.”

“Are you implying I usually do not?”

“No, I mean that it’s nice. Your um…” Is it wrong to say what Weiss thinks it actually is? “Your perfume is nice,” she hedges.

“Well,” Winter says at length. “It’s not mine – and I’m pretty sure if asked, you’d be told it was cologne.” Winter’s fingers tangle in Weiss’s hair and she rests her cheek against Weiss’s head. “Someday I’ll tell you about her.”

And though she’s burning with a desire to know, though the her throws Weiss to the point where she feels like the ground is shifting underneath her, Weiss lets it go. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“If that’s what you want.” Winter gets to her feet and collects her jacket.

Weiss follows.

(Weiss is pretty sure she’d follow Winter to the end of the world.)

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter.  i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys.  i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif​​, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts​​, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia​​ @ppersonna​​ @taetaewonderland​​

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

*************************

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again.  Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had.  Your appetite returns.  

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started.  Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching.  Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon.  You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs.  You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.  

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands.  You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated.  The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest.  You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.  

Namjoon should never have touched you.  

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs.  He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

*********************

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside.  That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers.  You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out.  Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed.  She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling.  It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish.  “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips.  “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you.  Go and get the works.  You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment.  Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon.  Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap.  She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes.  “She’s right.  Go take some time away.  I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat.  “Your mother agrees.  Now go.  And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.  

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.  

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

*****************************

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him.  He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people.  He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.  

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random.  He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.  

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions.  That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.  

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you.  That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right.  You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes.  You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur.  “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly.  “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery.  Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.  

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door.  It remains closed and he’s glad for it.  The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly.  Loaded. Horny. Stupid.  

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective.  “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly.  “That’s not normally how I treat my employees.  And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly.  “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly.  “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits.  It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately.  It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny.  Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin.  Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk.  Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon.  “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.  

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings.  “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.  

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath.  “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

***********************

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone.  Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer.  His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.  He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex.  It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system.  But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.  

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk.  He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty.  What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like.  A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.  

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

***********************

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room.  “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back.  This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top.  But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.  

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him.  It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone.  The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel.  At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.  

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass.  “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.  

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits.  “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.  

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly.  “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch.  She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.  

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office.  Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them.  Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.  

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly.  “That was uncalled for.  I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him.  Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach.  He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly.  “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits.  “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds.  “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant.  Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back.  “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent.  Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse?  Good grief, Namjoon.  Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman.  If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now.  I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think?  I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out.  And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.  

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly.  “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters.  When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull.  It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her.  I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her.  Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.  

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment.  He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases.  “You have no idea what you have to offer her?  You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon.  There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues.  “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man.  Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head.  “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole.  Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger.  “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt.  And whatever happened in that office can be fixed.  If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break.  He does want to fix it.  He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

****************************

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home.  You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.  

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.  

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now.  You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.  

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway.  It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound.  A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch.  Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his.  His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.  

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot.  Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you.  He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog.  You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response.  Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way.  You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.  

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him.  You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair.  It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.  

Charming everyone in his path.  

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again.  What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly.  “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart.  But you can’t anymore.  He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits.  “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained.  “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering.  Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.  

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly.  “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.  

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time.  Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you.  His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.  

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs.  “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain.  “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is.  He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.  

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

***************************

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago.  Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.  

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs.  When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard.  That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction.  He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.  

As if you had any choice in the matter.  You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.  

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows.  He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden.  The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell,  “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore.  And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.  

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.”  You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine.  You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely.  You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way.  I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out.  Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise.  “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile.  “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place.  You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery.  It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.  

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”  

****************************

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.  

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.  

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind.  But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen.  The sounds eventually slow and then stop.  And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.  

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read.  The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs.  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.  

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.  

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it.  After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.  

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order.  A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face.  For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.  

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

*********************

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.  

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair.  “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans.  You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly.  “Start everywhere.  Just start.  Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers.  He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you.  His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.  

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin.  He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.  

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound.  He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly.  “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers.  He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises.  “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed.  Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin.  You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra.  He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips.  He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back.  His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you.  Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.  

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching.  The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this.  He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue.  He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears.  “Please -- I c-can’t -- ”  Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip.  “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands.  You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb.  Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.  

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue.  He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side.  You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise.  Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple.  Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.  

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs.  But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply,  “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.  

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock.  He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.  

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender.  Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.  

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal.  “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious.  Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control.   Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.  

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs.  “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance.  He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.  

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response.  “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.  

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance.  He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”  

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls.  You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.  

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you.  “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath.  “Like that.  Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you.  He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.  

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.  He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.  

He’s always hated the echo in this place.  But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story.  It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him.  “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response.  He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief.  Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in.  He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.  

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

**********************

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.  

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand.  You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back.  Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.  

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess.  “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years.   It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him.  “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.  

By how good it feels to be needed by you.  

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.  

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya.  Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair.   “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

**************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

@prettyguardiansailormin​​​ @barbikatherine​ @55west81st​ @laabellaavitaa21​ @codeinebelle​ @jalexad​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @poohsaidhi​​ @eltrain80​​ @bluewhale52​​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @midnighttifa​​ @krystle1990​​ @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​​ @hauntedlilies​​ @kjooniesbabygirl​​ @unicorn5090​​ @parkjimin-persona​​ @kosicastairs​​ @julia-pacheco-blog​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @katbonv​​ @sunkissed725​​ @yourdaydreamerfan​​

[ladyartemesia]

Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end

[quickspinner]

Y’all I gotta complain about Zoe for a minute, and stuff like this always gets me into trouble, so please, please just keep scrolling if you don’t wanna hear it. IDK I guess I’m hoping if I just get some of the griping out of my system I can quit thinking about it. 😂 Spoilers for season 4 under the cut. 

I want her to be a villain so bad. Why couldn’t they have given Lila a setup like that and then used her effectively? I mean you have someone who admits they lie to fit in, that they like to act, and they come in with the perfect setup to be seen as Chloe’s victim and get in good with everyone else, and then start to lie and manipulate things just a little bit to go their way, and pretty soon everyone’s twisted around and you have a really effective setup for a liar/user who’s not completely obvious, and if she does get get caught, she’s got an iron-clad pity play right on the table already. “I’m sorry, I messed up, I’m trying so hard to do better, please forgive me,” and with the family she’s living in, who would question it? I know they’re not gonna do it, because it would just be repeating Lila’s plot again (only better) and they seem committed to sticking it out with her but UGH WHYYYYYYY IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER. I’m not sure how you would actually work out her not knowing Hawmoth’s identity, unless she was a sentimonster, but also how amazing would that be? Hawkmoth creating a sentimonster, while the real Zoe never leaves her boarding school and just goes on, because you know nobody in the mayor’s house is checking on anything there. Maybe Nathalie’s last sentimonster so that HM can keep making his own. ugh that would have been so good. Now he’s got an inside agent that can manipulate things at school, goad Chloe, get close to Marinette if he still wants to target her. 

To me that’s the only way to redeem the fact that you could find the exact same character in a thousand first-time-writer-self-insert fics--seriously she’s a freaking checklist. Long lost suddenly appearing sibling of a major cast member, mistreated by everybody, underestimates her own self-worth so that everyone tells her how great she is, being awesome enough to get even Chat’s attention for a millisecond, getting to tell Chloe off as the new queen bee, accomplishing previously impossible things that we’ve all wanted to see, for example the only one who can convince Mayor Bourgeois to stand up to Chloe, etc etc on and on--literally the only thing she’s missing is being crushed on by a secondary character so that she can be impressive and desirable without interrupting the main ship. I’m all for those things in fanfic, we all wrote that kind of thing at one point and I’m not judging anybody. But it drives me bananas when it shows up in a professional work that should know better (I am looking at you Heather from How to Train Your Dragon).

I know I’m massively biased, but I gotta be honest y’all the Zoeka thing mystifies me 😂 Setting aside all the issues above, we have a character who’s based around truth, sincerity, and perceptiveness/consideration of others’ feelings, and a character that straight up admits she lies to fit in (to the point of being cruel to others), who even after she reforms (so to speak) has no problem lying and manipulating her own sister (masterfully, omg, see above, why wouldn’t they use this), and generally is in the habit of not showing her true feelings or self. This is the exact opposite of what Luka is attracted to in Marinette (clear as a music note, sincere as a melody). I mean, they look cute, I’ll give you that, I think they’d have an interesting friendship dynamic and Zoe could learn a lot from the Couffaines. That’s fine in a friendship, but not great in a romantic partner. There’s a difference between supporting a partner who’s working through some hard stuff, and dating someone you have to fix, so. I don’t find it especially appealing. (I have this same problem with a lot of Adrien ships, to be honest; I ship Adrien x therapy 😂) IDK maybe five or ten years down the road when she’s learned how to separate herself from the roles she plays, but it’d definitely take some really good storytelling to convince me even then. 

Ship and let ship, of course, y’all have a party, nobody needs my approval. Just don’t expect to see me jumping ships anytime soon. 😂

[loveless-scribes]

Uchiha Itachi: NSFW Alphabet

So, it has come to my attention that Itachi of the Uchiha has been done a disservice in the eyes of the internet and been called terrible names. *COUGH* vanilla *COUGH* basic *HACK* I assure you, my friends, nothing could be further from the truth! And so, I present to you, my interpretation of the one and only. Enjoy.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional. It is just as much a part of the experience as foreplay and the actual sex. 

Will he clean you up? Not religiously, like it’s something he’ll do every time, but yes, he would. If you’re still feeling tired or lingering in bed by the time he’s gotten cleaned up, he wouldn’t think twice and just take care of you as well. If you mention that you think it’s sweet or you enjoy it, then… YES, he would absolutely start doing this religiously. 

Expect hairstroking and holding you to his chest, letting you listen to his heartbeat. If you want to share your 4 AM thoughts here, he’ll be down for it and let you know what he thinks about your ideas. After you’ve fallen asleep he will stay awake sorting through his thoughts, over what it means to have you by his side and the risks involved for you. This is pretty much the only time in the day that it’s safe to be vulnerable with his thoughts and so, this is where he will think about what you mean to him, and press a kiss to your forehead before finally going to sleep himself. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eyes, definitely. The eyes are known to be the windows to the heart and his own eyes define so much of his life and his destiny, so yes, he could stare into his partner’s eyes for an almost uncomfortably long time, drinking them in. I can’t really say he’s a butt or boobs guy cuz that’s not how his mind is wired. He’s wired to be mission-oriented and there’s no room in his mind for distractions but on his S/O he would appreciate and worship every inch of her. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Um… breeding kink, anyone? Defo see him as having one. Is this an underlying psychological thing because he was deprived of having a normal family? At the same time, though, he’s in no rush to have children of his own, because he knows what a terrible place this world can be. But the desire to spill his seed deep into his S/O’s womb is deeply ingrained. Modern birth-control would really solve this problem. 

Also, swallowing. *COUGH* If someone does this for him it will go straight to his head. Prepare to be rewarded. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hmm… I almost feel guilty about characterizing him like this, but I could see him somewhere deep down having a desire to have his partner submit to him? Not in the sense that he would ask for that, but if he had a wet dream about his S/O she would probably be on her knees, and he would feel guilty about it the next day and be a little sweeter than usual to her. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay! So, this is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Itachi is inexperienced! Even if we take Canon!Ita (but maybe age him up a little) I feel like there could be situations, mission-related, or pursued by women he objectively finds appealing, where saying no is just more inconvenient than going along with it. Especially if it’s for the sake of a mission, he wouldn’t think twice. Or if he does it in order to not blow his cover. While he does largely turn admirers away, more for their own good and because he’s generally not interested, I do believe he could have realistically encountered situations in his travels that led to sexual encounters. He hasn’t taken a vow of chastity, so I don’t see why he should go to unreasonable lengths to say no?

So yeah, in my mind he definitely has some experience, but not a whole lot. Obviously, he takes necessary precautions to ensure those brief dalliances stay just that. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hahahaha, so I had to do some research to find out what this position is called. The Mastery? Basically, it’s woman on top but the couple is in a seated position. Meaning, he gets to look into your eyes and just basically, the heightened intimacy and closeness of this position are what does it for him. Also, he has more control than in the normal girl-on-top position, so he can control the pace somewhat and help you out. 

But if you’re tired, he’ll pick you up and flip positions, he won’t wait for you to admit you’re tired and he won’t listen to your protests. He wants to see you out of your mind in ecstasy, not wondering whether or not you’re too tired to continue. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alright, so it’s Itachi, right? He isn’t very jokey. That just is what it is. He might do something unintentionally that might make you giggle, or you could laugh out of nervousness and while he very much enjoys that sound he doesn’t really know how to provoke it from you. It’s just not his area of expertise. (Sorry, Ita. Couldn’t give you this one.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hmm… well, Itachi definitely is clean by nature, and is definitely well-groomed and particular in all aspects of his life, so… I’m going to go with trimmed. Neat and orderly. Just like everything else about him. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I lowkey just want to link my oneshots to this, cuz they say it all, but alright! He will want to be connected to his S/O. That means either being able to see her face, or if the position doesn’t allow for it to hear her voice the entire time. He’s good at that. He’s so sweet and considerate and perceptive. He knows what’s working for you and what isn’t even without you saying a word, He may not have a whole lot of experience, but he has an innate talent (because doesn’t he just… with everything?) and he’s an exceptionally quick learner. He will legit ruin you for anyone else because if you ever ARE with anyone else and they snap at you, “What do you think I am, a mind reader?” You’ll realize what Itachi was doing.

So, yeah. He wants to make sure you’re into it and you’re taken care of and you’re near delirious with pleasure before he decides to let go himself. Being self-sacrificial and caring for others is in his nature. So, yeah, you really need to man up and figure out what he needs because he isn’t going to tell you. But you’re smart. You’ll work it out. (OR JUST READ THE REST OF THIS ALPHABET.)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sorry, no. Don’t see him doing this. You have to consider how disciplined the guy is, and how insanely busy. It really is kind of a waste of time at the end of the day and if he wants it that badly, he can just make the trip to see you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Teasing, edging, getting you to beg. He feels bad for you, he really does. But how much more can you take? You won’t know until you know. He’ll reward you for your patience though. And let’s be honest, you’ll love it, teasing and all. Not to mention mindfucking you to oblivion.  

So, I went through an alleged “complete” list of 239 kinks to try and answer this question and most of it was just… weird. So, let’s do this differently. What follows is an incomplete list of things I could potentially see him being into or good at or have an interest in. In no particular order: mirrors, sub/dom play (with a little coaxing and admitting to himself that this is even a thing that he’s into. It would absolutely be limited to the bedroom, though), sensory deprivation, and.... bear with me here, but… I could see him having a hand for Shibari. THINK ABOUT IT. Those knots and things they learned to tie in the ninja academy? And we know Itachi is the best of the best in everything he does. So, I don’t think this is beyond the realm of possibility. 

Generally speaking, though, he just doesn’t have the time for this stuff. BUT IF HE DID…

And now, this is exclusive to AM!Ita but he most likely has a praise kink. Being hated and cursed for eons, and being disillusioned with his own role, if his S/O comes in and tells him how great he is, how handsome, how wonderful. How good he is at what he does. How wonderful he makes her feel. Mmmm. I can see that doing things to him. XD

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally, in a lake or a river. Outdoor bathing spaces are generally approached with caution, so even if someone were to come by they would call out and make sure no one is there first, which means, less risk of getting caught. And I mean, this is Itachi… He’s an S-rank exiled nin. HE KNOWS HOW TO NOT GET CAUGHT. LOL. But yeah, he spends a lot of time out-of-doors. He’s more accustomed to the starry sky overhead than the roof of a house or woodland cabin. In my interpretation, he feels very much at peace when surrounded by nature and he would enjoy being intimate with you in that setting. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Confidence. Enthusiasm. Not necessarily seduction, if it’s a stranger he’s dealing with, this is more of a turn-off than anything. But if it’s his S/O and she turns up the charm and crooks a finger at him… You might even get a smile on that stoic face. I don’t see him being into the shy and stuttering type. If you blush and say, “No! St- stop!” He’ll literally stop. And probably apologize. AND NOT DO IT AGAIN.

If you try and explain to him that your no doesn’t mean no… Ah, yeah. He’s not into that. Be straightforward. Say what you mean. Don’t play games with him. He’ll see right through you. 

That being said, being a lonely fighter all his life means he’s very sensitive to your touch. Just run a hand along his shoulder in passing and he’ll grab it and press a kiss to your palm, and haul you in. I could see him being into your hands. It really isn’t hard to turn him on, it’s hard to earn his trust and a position in his life that gives you the right to touch him and be touched by him. But when you’re there, it’s the easiest thing in the world. A smile, a kiss, a brush of your fingers over his collarbones. He’s a goner. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pegging. This goes without saying. I can’t really think of much else he wouldn’t be into. I mean, stuff that’s a little more out there. Watersports. Daddy/Mommy kinks. Actual exhibitionism, (not genjutsu version) no way is he going to let anyone look in on your most intimate moments. Impact play. He knows very well what his hands are capable of, and there’s a lot of blood on them, so he really wouldn’t be into stuff that involves actually hurting you. 

If his S/O likes it VERY rough, he might resort to genjutsu so that she gets what she wants, but he doesn’t have to actually hurt her. Other than that, bruising, choking, the usual level of roughness? Bring it on. Being adept with his hands also means he knows very well where that fine line between pain and pleasure is. 

Not to mention, he’s very perceptive, so he’ll figure out what you’re into even without you saying it. He’s also very giving so he’ll focus more on your preferences than his own. But if the day ever comes where you realize what submission does to him… The man would be putty in your hands. Kukukukuku...

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both. 

Giving, because he has absolute control over your pleasure, and because he enjoys how easily he can drive you out of your mind. We’ve established that he’s a terrible tease, so driving you to the brink and leaving you hanging, feeling every single one of your reactions… It’s good stuff. 

Receiving takes the cake though. Being that vulnerable with someone, even having someone he can trust that much. It’s definitely something he’s very partial to, something that makes him soft towards you, and something that plays into his forbidden desire of seeing you submit, whether or not he’s aware of it. He’ll make sure to return the favor tenfold.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is an odd question I think, because… doesn’t it depend? On how much time he has, on how the two of you are feeling, on what the mood is? 

Anyways, I’m going to go ahead and say slow and sensual because he really is a man who likes to take his time with you. He likes to feel every one of your responses, hear every little mewl and whimper and moan that crosses your lips. He definitely makes it an experience. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his preference, but he isn’t above having a quickie if that’s all that time allows. But he would definitely follow up with a proper session at a later time, then. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is so nice. He really is. There’s nothing you could want that he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once for your sake. I mean, apart from the stuff listed under “N”. 

And would he take risks? YES, HE WOULD. Because his assessment of the risks varies greatly from yours. So, something that you would think is very risky, might seem not risky at all to him, because he knows exactly how to go unseen, unnoticed. You might think he’s being risky, but he’s well aware there was a 0% chance you were going to get caught. Because Itachi skillz.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina! *insert sparkles* AM!Ita has been established in the works, so I think that needs no comment. Canon!Itachi is a freaking fighter. An S-class exiled nin. Someone who claims Itachi has no stamina wants to start something with me. DID YOU SEE HIM HAND SASUKE’S ASS TO HIM? Despite his illness? He lost because he CHOSE to lose. I don’t see the Akatsuki hauling out a wheelchair for Itachi to go on his missions, so don’t go telling me nothing about Itachi having no stamina. SHAKE MY HEAD WHILE JUDGING YOU.

Dude is strong as hell. And you can’t tell me some bedroom fun is more physically taxing than literal superhuman battles against huge ass tailed beasts! It’s just ridiculous. I’m not here to rant. Better calm down.

I’m here to tell you our man can go for at least three rounds and you will *GUARANTEED* always tire out before he does. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes. The sharingan. THE ONLY TOY YOU WILL EVER NEED. As mentioned above, he’s not above using his skills to heighten your pleasure, and mess with your mind. But actual, physical toys? Nah, the thought processes that would lead to considering, comparing, and actually purchasing those are just so foreign to his thinking. It would never even cross his mind. What can a toy even do that he can’t do better? (To his thinking anyway. Well, he’s not wrong.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will make you beg. Absolutely. He’s totally unfair. He will have casual conversations with you while driving you out of your wits. And then he’ll ask you why you’re not answering him. Ask you what’s wrong. Ask you what you want. LIKE HE DOESN’T KNOW. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Itachi is very restrained and disciplined so, unfortunately, this means he isn’t very vocal. I know, cry with me, it’s such a waste. *hires an orchestra of the world’s smallest violins* BUT that means when you do manage to make him groan or moan in pleasure, it’s such a huge ego boost. Apart from the sounds he makes when hitting a climax, he’s generally in control and whispering praise and teasings into your ear or over your skin.

If you want him to talk, get on your knees and give him some head. Not kidding. Mentioned it above already. He gets to let go, a lot of his secret kinks are getting fulfilled, he feels vulnerable and is cool with it. He’ll dig his hands into your hair, cup your cheek, his eyes will roll into the back of his head and he’ll tell you on a low moan what a good girl you are. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

So, let’s say you’re waiting to talk to him and he’s busy meeting with some people or whatever and you’re standing off to the side patiently. He just briefly glances at you before turning back to his comrades and BOOM. Next thing you know, he’s got you by the neck, has you pinned against his desk/table/whatever (this was originally a Hokage!Ita headcanon so do with that what you will), and is doing unspeakable things to you in front of everyone. No sooner does the encounter come to an end, than you suddenly wake up and find yourself still standing right where you were, until it happens again, and this time he takes you against the wall. It’s an illusion wrapped in an illusion wrapped in an illusion more times than you can count and when you finally do come to your senses, you can barely stand. The meeting is over. Itachi turns toward you, “You wanted to speak with me?”

Ah, yes. Good old Itachi mindfuckery.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I mean, muscles, yes? Lots of them. Man’s fit as a fiddle. He’s a ninja. So, yes, the entire delicious length of him is covered in lean, firm muscle. He’s clearly well-endowed because… he just is. Maybe not the longest cucumber in the farmer’s market (which isn’t to say he isn’t long, because he is… don’t claim I called him short) but thick and veiny and above all else, attached to a man with a brain who knows how to use it efficiently. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This is a tough one, because the constraints are not on his drive, but on his time. He’ll take whatever chances he can to be with you. AM!Ita is established to have a very high sex drive, but he also has restraint, so when you’re not into it, he’s cool with it. As if that would ever happen. So, I would have to say, the actual encounters will unfortunately be far between because of his lifestyle, but he will always make up for lost time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kind of already mentioned this above, that those moments afterwards with you are his most vulnerable moments where he feels relatively safe and at ease, so he stays awake for a long time after, sorting through his thoughts. Also, he won’t say this to you, but it’s his job to protect you, so there is no way he’ll fall asleep before you do. Not gonna happen.

[fubukiswifenoimnotjoking]

One Punch Man ship reviews bc I’m bored

WARNING: BIG ONE PUNCH MAN WEBCOMIC AND MANGA SPOILERS

GenoSai: do I even have to say it?? They compliment each other so well and are already besties. They make me so happy and I love their love. Genos literally came into Saitama’s life and brought so much new life and excitement when Saitama thought he’d never get any. Genos gives him love and appreciation all the time and never abandons him. Saitama isn’t connected to his feelings, but he cares about Genos and would do just about anything for him, to keep him safe. Genos constantly teases Saitama and Saitama grumbles and takes it with some banter, Genos is super emotional and Saitama does his best to comfort him, they fucking love shopping together and just hanging out period, they talk about the dumbest shit and somehow they still understand each other with the one brain cell they both share. It takes Genos forever to realize his feelings are deeper and Saitama has to be TOLD by their friends that he should fucking realize his feelings already. Just...I could keep going but I’ll stop! 2718873737839439/10 (let’s not talk about the age gap btw, 6 years isn’t bad and Genos is a legal adult.)

FubuSai: the stereotypical straight ship ppl gravitate to. Eh. I can see it, but at the same time I feel like they don’t completely compliment each other. Are they a hot couple? Duh. But I feel like their pride and communication issues would get in the way. 4/10

TatsuSai: hnghhhh. Someone mentioned this before, can’t remember who, but Saitama literally thinks she’s a child in canon. So that just....makes it gross. Same problems as FubuSai but worse. I’d rather see them as hesitant friends w a weird bond. 0/10

SonSai/SonicSai/idk the ship name: eh, toxic. Cant see them getting past communication issues and pride, again. Plus Sonic wants to kill his ass. Also, I just feel no romantic tension?? Even in fanfic it just falls flat for me. 3/10

MumenSai: a favorite!! Wish I saw it more, it’s very cute. Mumen is so kind and would absolutely be there to help him w self esteem and just help him be a better person period. And Saitama would have a cute little kind guy to tease and open up to. I could maybe see Mumen’s kindness getting on Saitama’s nerves when he’s in a bad mood bc Mumen almost never snaps and Saitama feels shittier, or maybe Mumen being mad at Saitama for being kinda lazy at home while Mumen is working his ass off and he’s like babe I just got home, please stop playing the fucking game and pay attention to me I have a concussion again. Prob too nitpicky on this one, heh, but 8.4/10

Genos x Sonic: wtf? As a crack ship, sure. That’s hilarious. But as a serious ship, 1.3/10 bc I could MAYBE see them bond over their love of my chemical romance or sum.

Anyone x Puri: -128382839287473828739219833468282/10. Fuck Puri.

TatsuKing: eh. Indifferent on this one too. I can see them getting along and Tatsu being the mean but supportive gf in public, but a sweet gf in private. King could be like her calm oasis of video games and sweet blonde shy bf. I sway more towards ace/aro King and queer non binary Tatsu, but this is still good. 6/10

FubuPsy/Fubuki x Psykos/idk: hell yeah!! This series NEEDS more wlw ships, both for me to project onto and to cry over. Prob my fav Fubuki ship, cuz they’ve known each other since they were young and had a tenuous friendship. I didn’t use to ship it until I saw that scene in the wc after the MA arc (u know the one) but here we are. They’re big personalities so any interaction is bound to be chaotic at first, but I really think they’d work. Pride put to the side, Psykos could be someone for Fubuki to finally rely on other than the Blizzard Bunch, someone to confide in, a badass partner to fight monsters with, talk about nothing for hours with, be a super fashionable #girlboss couple with, and someone who would really see her for who she is-especially w Psykos knowledge of her from the past. Hell, Psykos might even know her better than Tatsumaki. Fubuki could be an anchor to her like she currently is in the wc, providing a quiet comfort and making her open up little by little. Would prob be toxic at first bc of the MA arc and their desire for power, but is a very good ship I think. 9/10

Speedal/Sonic x Mumen: an old fav! Sonic would have a hard time not hating Mumen at first bc he’s the picture definition of a hero, sum he hates. But hanging out with him would show him Mumen is a GOOD guy genuinely and he’d be like ohhhh shit I’m in love w this man. Mumen would thoroughly appreciate someone to make him live a little, break some rules and stand up to ppl when they talk over him. He’d DEFINITELY be upset when finding out Sonic is an assassin, but would prob be conflicted bc he knows Sonic is a good person despite that. Would prob make Sonic give up on killing for them to be together. Sucks bc of the assassin thing and bc they haven’t met in canon! So we’re not sure how they’d interact with each other, sigh. 7.4/10

Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: a very underrated ship! To be clear, I headcanon Kama as a trans woman and so does most of the fandom. Anyway, very sweet and already built as a friendship bc of their partnership under Atomic Samurai. I can’t remember who writes fic and makes art of them on tumblr but AAAAA it’s so good! Very sweet. Basically depicted Bushi as a nervous himbo who’s honest about his feelings but scared to say them and Kama as a sweet lady who’s crazy about Bushi. Very sweet. Want more of them!! 6.1/10

OneZon/Zombieman x One Shotter: never even thought of the ship till I saw @megidolan art work! Very wholesome, and from what little we know of Shotter we know he’s a sort of nervous yet strong willed guy, and Zombieman would totally help him calm down bc he’s so chill. I could see them sharing cigarettes and talking shit on heroes while cuddling u know? 7/10 only because I don’t see enough of it but very good concept.

Mumarou/Mumen x Garou: a lot of ppl are gonna hate me for this but....I don’t like it. I’ve tried! I just—idk. I’ve read so many good fics about them that make me like it a bit, but the concept is just eh. I think their relationship is, in most reps, really cliche angsty stuff. I wish I could elaborate I just...gah! Basically, there’s better ships for the both of them imo. Sorry!! 4.3/10

Sonic x Flashy/SonFlash: yes!! Prob my fav Sonic ship. They have soooo much tension, it’s almost worse than Genos’ tension w Saitama. Flashy LITERALLY poisoned Sonic so that he wouldn’t be forced to kill him at the ninja graduation. He cares. They’ll never say it out loud, but they care. They have someone who understands what they went through in each other and someone they’re both so similar to, yet so different from. Sonic is more vocal about his expressions and let’s people know it while Flashy often keeps things to himself, they could really influence the other to be more this or that. I could see a lot of comfort with these two, and not much is needed for relationship development; they already have so much unspoken between them after meeting for the first time in years. Love it. Wish I saw it more! 10/11

KingSai: wonderful! Out of the few ppl Saitama is close to, def my second fav pick for a ship for him. There’s a post saying how Saitama doesn’t cut King off when he’s going on rants about games and stuff bc he’s talking TO Saitama, not at him like Genos tends to do on accident. They’re already great buddies! Saitama could find a shy gamer man who he can talk to about manga and stuff and also a passionate bf who could break out of his shell w Saitama and be himself with no lies. King can have someone to protect him, duh, someone who finally understands his weird sense of humor, and someone to shower him in the love and kindness he deserves when Saitama is in the mood to be all out like that w his affections. Plus he’s Saitama’s anchor and brings him back down when he’s super anxious and depressed and tells him what’s up that he needs to fix without sugarcoating it. Would def have a bunch of inside jokes and go on dates that are just staying inside playing video games all night. Domestic af. 10/10

Fubuki x Mizuki: my first wlw Fubuki ship! Hard to find but very good. Mizuki is this big ball of kindness, energy, and raw power that would make Fubuki go ‘Ohhhhhhh, big pretty lady make brain go brrr.’ I could see Mizuki grounding Fubuki when she’s in over her head, giving her random gifts bc she saw sum and thought of her, doing a marathon run and wildly waving at Fubuki in the crowd, and all around being a dependable woman confident in herself and in love with a mysterious esper. Prob a little shy when it comes to anything physical bc she loves Fubuki so much and is overwhelmed by the realness of being w her. Fubuki gives Mizuki advice on ‘acting like a proper hero’ or whatever and though Mizuki thinks she doesn’t need it, Fubuki still helps her a lot w her career and being taken more seriously by others. Would give Mizuki someone who loves her for who she is and would go wild on her in private when she can be open about her affection, would be someone Mizuki could exercise with and listen intently to Mizuki’s physical knowledge, and would absolutely bandage her when she’s all banged up. Hnghh love this ship. It’s only behind the FubuPsy ship juuuuust a little bc they haven’t met in canon so we can’t be sure about their interactions and stuff. 8.8/10, I love WOMEN

Batarou: how could I go this far without mentioning them?! They have SOOOO much tension in the centichoro fight, like come on. Both snarky assholes who are huge softies one the inside, Badd being the more logical one (still a himbo, tho) and Garou being the more chaotic one. Probably take forever to admit their feelings bc they’re so prideful and stupid <3 flirt through constant wrestling matches and it takes Genos saying ‘they should kiss already, they’re getting on his nerves’ for them to finally realize what’s up. (@rayadraws has a great au where Garou Genos and Badd are a chaotic friend squad and Genos is the only brain of the group, haha. Very good au y’all check it out!) Would constantly pick on each other affectionately and switch into concerned SO when the other is hurt like the big teddy bears they are. Raise Zenko together for sure. Garou would fumble being romantic and Badd would find it both hilarious and cute. 11/12

Zombie mask/Amai x Zombieman:

So. I don’t like Amai Mask and I used to hate him, BUT the webcomic and fic have really helped me calm down on him (he’s still a dick tho), so it’s easier to want to ship him and stuff. Bc of Amai’s anger issues and controlling behavior, I could see this relationship being super toxic and icky—but I think they have some form of understanding that pulls Amai back from being a complete dick, you know? Start off as fuck buddies and slowly form something else from spending companionable time together other than screwing. Zombieman pulls Amai back from his angry fits and soothes him over with his logic. Talk maaaaaad shit about heroes, but only when they’re alone because Zombieman knows Amai will talk loud af about the heroes they’re roasting and Zombie doesn’t wanna stop a fight from happening. Zombieman loves making Amai flustered and has a secret check list in his head of all the things that get Amai red faced. Loves to listen to Amai rant about things for hours and loves to watch his face go through almost cartoon like expressions as he talks. He won’t admit it, but Zombie loves to be spoiled by Amai’s shit tons of cash and often takes rides in Amai’s limos when he wants to smoke and think to himself. Amai has a hard time realizing how his feelings have changed, but gets hit hard with it when he wakes up to Zombie making them breakfast one morning while wearing Amai’s underwear. Amai also loves to spoil Zombie and takes him out to restaurants and buys him cool new weapons on the weekends. @batneko has pretty much gotten me into this ship and I strongly suggest looking at their works! 7.9/10

DemonKnight/Genos x Zero/Drive Knight: I’m pretty sure this used to be a crack ship before the past like 10 manga chapters—and now here we are! Not a fav bc 1. ZERO LEFT GENOS TO SELF DESTRUCT AFTER THEY COMBINED TO FORM THE FUCKING JET HE WAS JUST LIKE lol bye SO LIKE if he left him to die that’s super hard for me to forgive and ship grrr 2. Disregarding the manga’s canon and looking at the wc, while I love the little trip they went on where Zero demonstrated his abilities and helped Genos kill monsters, it’s super sus. He knew alllll of this info on Metal Knight and was super supportive and understanding when Genos said he needed time to think. Like,,,what are his intentions? We know so little about him—is he trying to trick Genos or was he being sincere? THAT STUFF ASIDE, they’re a really fun ship. They’re both huge fucking nerds and can keep up with their talk on robotics for hours, they’re both cyborgs so they understand each other’s pain, and they’re both super cool and angsty. I think they could really settle into a deep bond that can go platonic or romantic, just depends. Genos needs more ppl in his life so hell yeah! Plus, he can really let go with Zero bc they don’t have that teacher/student relationship and Zero, if he’s really a sincere and kind guy like in the wc, can be there for Genos and listen to him. Don’t have much to say on this ship other than @wellthisisembarrassing makes GORGEOUS art of them! 6.3/10

Webuiko/Suiko x Webigaza: YEAH I KNOW THEY HAVENT INTERACTED IN CANON AND WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT THEM BUT HEAR ME OUT. Webigaza—cool af determined cyborg idol who’s surprisingly down to earth when talking with Child Emperor. Suiko—sassy and honest fighter who doesn’t take shit and is very passionate. Suiko would go to talk to Web then immediately freak out bc aaaa she’s way prettier than she thought, she can’t do this! Web would have to gently encourage Suiko to talk and at first is like ‘ah man, must be an adoring fan, ugh I’m so tired. At least she’s hot’ but when Suiko snaps out of her shyness Web is like oh! She’s super cool wtf. Always bump into each other during fights and help each other get fixed up, Suiko using her muscle power to lift Web’s pieces (and give Web a great view of Suiko’s muscles holy SHIT) and Web would patch Suiko up. Not to be stereotypical, but they’re def a masc/femme couple. I love the idea of this ship soooo much and I really hope they interact! 6.6/10 only bc they haven’t met 😭😭😭 look them up on here! There’s some great art of them by a few blogs

Dr. Kuseno x Bang: pretty sure @baldyborg came up with this one! Super cute. Just two old dudes finding a nice friendship in each other, maybe after Bang helps carry Genos to Kuseno’s after a day of fighting. Bang would find Kuseno to be a very cute little nerd man and would be sooo impressed by Kuseno’s mad scientist skills. Kuseno would be super impressed when seeing Bang in action too. They’d prob talk as soon as they meet each other and Genos would be in the background like you guys it’s been an hour, please fix me I’m on the verge of death 🧍🏻Bang would give Kuseno advice on training techniques to teach Genos and advice on making his bodies more martial arts ready or sum, meanwhile Kuseno would give his take on how to be kinder to Garou so that Bang would learn to repair the relationship with a gentleness he’s seemingly lacking (yes I’m talking about the chapter where he and Garou start fighting and Bang is just not doing enough to reach out to Garou, he’s being a callous old man! So yeah I’m still mad about that). Genos and Saitama would prob be out on a date and Saitama would be like oh theres Bang, wonder what he’s doing? Then Kuseno would walk up and kiss Bang and Genos and Sai would be shocked like SIRS 👬 Genos would tell Bang he doesn’t need another adoptive dad and Bang would be like....ok.... I see them retiring in a cottage together and Bang would become a huge softie. Yes I’m actively ignoring chapter 141 of the wc, shut up. 7.6/10

TankTop master x Mumen: they have a nice friendship going on in the manga right now! Just bros supporting bros. Tank is the picture definition of a muscly himbo and Mumen is his cute passionate bf. Also workout buddies af!! Don’t have much to say other than pretty good ship, just not a fav. 5.2/10

To sum it up—

GenoSai: 2718873737839439/10, Batarou: 11/12, SonFlash: 10/11, KingSai: 10/10, FubuPsy: 9/10, Fubuki x Mizuki: 8.8/10, MumenSai: 8.4/10, ZombieMask: 7.9/10, Dr. Kuseno x Bang: 7.6/10, Speedal: 7.4/10, OneZon: 7/10, Webuiko: 6.6/10, DemonKnight: 6.3/10, Okamaitachi x Bushidrill: 6.1/10, TatsuKing: 6/10, TankTop Master x Mumen: 5.2/10, Mumarou: 4.3/10, FubuSai: 4/10, SonSai: 3/10, Genos x Sonic: 1.3/10, TatsuSai: 0/10, anyone x Puri: -1283828319833468282/10

If there’s any ships I left out, it’s bc I don’t know them, don’t wanna talk about them, or just don’t have an opinion strong enough. Also, I know there are some poly ships like Genos x Saitama x Fubuki, but I’ve read only one fic about that (it was pretty good, here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406992 ) so I don’t feel like talking about it. Hope no ones offended! All my opinion here :)

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato [Track 2]

Original title: 夜の湖

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru

Translator’s note: If there’s one thing Rejet knows to do with these CDs, it’s keeping us on the edge of our seats! The final bit of this CD was actual one of the voice samples released prior to its release and I remember being extremely intrigued by it back then! Even while listening to the actual CD, it got me super curious and I couldn’t wait to listen to the next track to find out what is going on with the MC.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: The Lake at Night

The two of you are walking through the forest until you eventually reach the lake.

“...Is this the place you’ve been dyin’ to visit? It’s just a regular old lake, no? There’s seriously nothin’ special ‘bout it at all...It was stupid of me to even expect anythin’ from you in the first place.”

You explain.

“Haahー!? The sunrise...? ...Don’t tell me you want to stay here until dawn!?”

You nod.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. Do you even know how much time’s left till sunrise!? ...See you.”

Ayato tries to leave but you quickly stop him, insisting you can chat till the sun rises.

*Rustle*

“What? Don’t give me that nonsense! Why did we need to come all the way over here just to have a chat? We can just talk at home!”

You shake your head.

“Haah? There’s other people around then? ...Oh. In other words, you wanted an excuse to be all alone with me?”

You elaborate on your idea.

“A quiet time, huh...? I thought you liked things to be lively though. Well, I won’t deny those dudes are hella annoyin’. I turn my back for one second and they try to make a move on you. I’ll admit we can never truly feel at ease in that kinda environment.”

He plops down on the grass.

“...There we go. ...Oi, hurry up and lend me your lap already. You don’t expect me to get comfortable without a pillow, right?

You take a seat next to him as he rests his head in your lap.

*Rustle rustle*

“...Hmph.”

You smile and admit enjoying these times together. 

“...It’s nice to sit back and relax at times, huh? Damn, you really sounded like a granny just now. I don’t understand. This is just dull, you might as well be dead. ...I mean, you humans have a limited lifespan, right? Then doesn’t this feel like a waste? Isn’t it normal to want to enjoy yourself, maybe have some good food or something? ...Well, I’m a Vampire and immortal so I don’t really care either way.”

You explain.

“Hmph. If you like this, then whatever. You’re so easy to please. (1) But don’t come complaining to me afterwards.”

You chuckle. 

“Don’t laugh, geez. ...Actually, you’ve been actin’ kinda off. Like you’re in bad shape...or lackin’ energy. Did you eat somethin’ which had gone bad or somethin’?”

You retaliate.

“I wonder. Hehehe...Well, seems like you still have the energy to talk back at least. ...By the way, you remember the promise we made, right? I told you I’d suck your blood if you failed to entertain me, didn’t I?”

You flinch.

“Look at that pathetic look on your face. Did you think I had forgotten?”

You try and bribe him with the lap pillow. 

“Hmph. You’ll stay like this a lil’ longer? All you’re doing is lending me your lap though? You haven’t been tellin’ me any interestin’ stories either. ...Are you perhaps teasin’ me on purpose?”

You quickly shake your head.

“In that case, it makes sense.”

You frantically flail with your arms while trying to explain yourself. 

“Hehe...Hehehe...No need to get so desperate trying to deny it. Your funny expression is only becomin’ even more hilarious. I’ll content myself with that for now and leave the real fun for later. Guess you should be grateful to your own face.”

You say thank you.

“...Aah? Why would you thank me for that? Lemme tell you, but I prefer suckin’ your blood after scarin’ the livin’ hell out of you. It’s just not the time for that yet, that’s all. Heh!”

The wind blows in the background.

“...For real though, what are you gonna do ‘bout this depressin’ mood? You should take some responsibility and talk to me. Anythin’ will do at this point. You wanted to enjoy some idle talk, right? Come on.”

You bring up the past.

“What? Our first meeting? You really think I remember all of that? ...Ahー But if I recall correctly...I was nappin’ in the living room while the thunder roared outside...Right! I was woken up because you made a huge fuss.”

You tell him you were truly shocked back then.

“Haha...You mistook me for a dead person, didn’t you? Goin’ on ‘bout callin’ an ambulance or some shit. Bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? Yours Truly doesn’t just die! 

Well, I doubt you knew we were Vampires at that point. I was hella thirsty back then, so when an energetic-looking prey walked right up to me, I obviously had to go straight for a bite. Yet, that damn Four-Eyes had the nerve to get in my way!”

You tell him you nearly forgot about that.

“Excuse me? Don’t be forgettin’ ‘bout that when you’re the one who brought up this topic!”

You admit to being surprised Ayato recalls so much.

“I remember plenty of other things as well! You better don’t underestimate my memory! ...Actually, why don’t I help you remember a few more embarrassing moments? No need to be modest. Whatcha so afraid of?”

You flinch.

“Hehe...Are you scared of me?”

You hesitate.

“What? If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then spit it out.”

You explain.

“What do you mean you’re no longer scared of me like you were at first? You flinched just now!”

You frown.

“Why can’t you put it into words well? Don’t tell me you’re makin’ fun of me?”

You shake your head.

“Then what is it?”

You try and put your feelings into words. 

“Haah!? I don’t understand what you mean with ‘because we understand each other now’. Geez. ...But well, there’s a few things I learnt through living together with you as well, I guess. Humans are weak. They die so easily. They’ve got a limited life span as well. ...That’s not all. They love to fuss ‘bout the details and they’re so infuriatingly slow and clumsy. They get upset over the most trivial things or cry over nothing. Also...Sometimes the strangest things make them happy. Furthermore, they’d go through the trouble of comin’ to these kinda places. Ahー What a drag.”

You thank Ayato for keeping up with you. 

“Che...Why are you thanking me now? I really don’t understand that sorta behavior of yours. Fuck.”

You ask if he would like to head back soon. 

“Aah...? What do you mean ‘soon’? Of course I want to head home already! ...But well, you still want to stay here a lil’ longer, right? ...Just the two of us.”

You nod.

“Oh? You’re bein’ surprisingly honest. Do you want to be with me that badly?”

You nod again.

“Heh. You just said you want to be together forever, huh? Fool. You really think I’d let you go? You can no longer leave me. ...Not ever.”

You suddenly frown.

“What? Got a problem with that?”

You quickly turn your head and try to make excuses. 

“No point in tryin’ to hide it. You’re an open book after all. ...Don’t tell me you actually believe you could get away from me?”

You shake your head.

“If that’s not it, then don’t look so damn anxious. ...Heh. Actually, I bet you were thinking that you can’t live forever?”

Your eyes widen in surprise before you ask him how he knows.

“Heh. I know everything that goes on in that head of yours. ...Don’t be worryin’ about those kind of stupid things. Did you drag me all the way out here to talk ‘bout that shit? ...You didn’t, right? Pretty sure I told you to entertain me.”

Ayato suddenly pins you down.

*Thud*

“I bet you’re rackin’ your brain over complicated shit again? Good job gettin’ yourself pinned down. ...Just so you know, there’s no point in tryin’ to cover it up. Even if you keep quiet, I can tell by lookin’ in your eyes. Che...! I should just be the only thing on your mind. Well, I’ll just force myself inside your head if I need to. ...I’ll make it so you can’t worry about anything unnecessary.”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“I’m not lettin’ you go any time soon...So brace yourself.”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Nnh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Hah. Come on. Sit up already. Don’t you understand? I’m givin’ you special permission to sit down on my lap. Hurry up...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Say…Doin’ this doesn’t feel half bad, does it? …Just admit it.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Come on. Don’t close your eyes. Make sure to watch…how you’re bein’ turned into a mess.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Hehehe…Seems like you’re ‘bout to lose it from sheer excitement. Show me more of that expression.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Don’t you dare let the other guys see you like this.”

You whimper.

“Listen up. You’re fated to continue havin’ your blood sucked by me like this. Both now and in the future. Foreverーー”

You nod.

“Heh. Glad you understand.”

Ayato gets up and wipes some dirt off his pants.

“…Woah. The wind has picked up. …Oi, we should probably head home soon. I don’t want to get nagged at later.”

You remain unmoved.

“Come on. Get up already. Or has your back thrown out? …Guess you leave me no other choice.”

*Rustle*

“Come on. Gimme your hand. …Hah? What’s wrong? Grab it already.”

You shake your head.

“Oi, there really is somethin’ off ‘bout you? Come on.”

Ayato grabs your hand.

“…Eh? Doesn’t your hand…feel colder than usual? What’s wrong, for real? …Can’t you hear me? Oi! …Idiot! Don’t close your eyes! Answer me! Chichinashi!!

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Ayato calls her 無欲 or ‘muyoku’, which is used to describe someone who is free from any ‘worldly desires’. 

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.09

Paradise Lost

10/09/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,013

Warnings: fluff, depression, anxiety, implied sex

A/N: Hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess. Life got me busy and I didn’t get to put this out when I wanted to. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

“Hello? Yes, how can I help you?” Her voice is still a bit on the nasal side, her hair an ice blonde. Her eyes are emerald green and her lips as red as a ruby.

She doesn’t seem to remember you one bit. It has been ten months and you’d only met her once.

“I’m Y/N? I have a meeting with Mr. Swan?” You muster up all your courage after that initial hesitation, intent on completing your mission.

“Oh, right. The no-show.” She gets up and gestures for you to follow.

Quickly you hurry to catch up, watching the way she swings her hips as she walks, the movement exaggerated by the tight gray pencil skirt she wears.

She’s surprisingly fast on her six-inch heels and you’re dumbfounded by the skill.

Stopping at the end of a long modern hallway with black marble walls, the secretary knocks on the pale wooden office door, waiting a moment for response.

“Come in, Kay.” A surprisingly young male voice speaks.

Kay steps in, stopping with her back against the open door as she leans her weight on the doorknob.

“The no-show is here for you.” Kay says, voice casual and relaxed despite the fact that she’s speaking to A.I.M.’s CEO.

“Oh? Hi!” He greets as you cross into view.

He’s most definitely young. Mid to late twenties. No way he’s older than thirty, with short and carefully styled brown hair, brown eyes, and browned peach skin. His chin is blanketed in rough stubble and two dimples crease his cheeks as he moves towards you with his hand extended.

“Y/N, right?” He asks and you quickly take his hand and shake it.

“Yes.” You agree. “Nice to meet you.”

“That’ll be all, Kay. Can you order my lunch for two o’clock?” He asks, releasing your hand but gesturing the red modern armchair in front of his long glass desk.

“Will do.” Kay agrees and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Mr. Swan rounds his desk, long and lithe, moving to sit in his chair and takes a moment to breathe in and release it slowly, as if it’s the first time he’s sat down today. When he’s settled, he gives you a smile and places his hands on his lap.

“So, you’ve been out of town for ten months?” He wastes no time getting to his point. “Unfortunately, Y/N, I don’t have a position open for you. We’ve just filled all the open positions in marketing and taken on all the interns we could use.

“If you wanted the job, you should have shown up. You were hired. I can’t save your spot just because you decided to take an extended vacation.”

“I-” Your heart is pounding, your blood boiling. There’s a buzzing in your head because you know you can’t say what you want to. You can’t tell him that you were stranded on an island with Bucky because it’s a secret. Not that he was stranded, but that you were there.

“I’m sorry to waste your time. Really. If you’d like to reapply, we’ll keep your application on file and should a spot open up, we’ll keep you in mind.” Mr. Swan assures you.

“Mr. Swan,” You begin, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Tight and humorless, it’s more a desperate gesture than anything else. “I didn’t extend my vacation, there were problems with my passport and travel visas. I was stuck in an airport for several weeks before they put me up in a hotel until they could figure out what the problem was.

“I-I’m not asking you to give me the same position. I know that I’ve lost the chance for that, but if you could give me a job anywhere in your company, I can research my butt off.” You say rashly. “I’m not an idiot. Research and Development would be a good fit too, or maybe consumer research?”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I don’t have anything for you. Begging for a job won’t get you one.”

“Mr. Swan-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. A company to run. And I’ve given you my answer.” Mr. Swan rises, reaching to refasten the button on his suit jacket. “If you don’t mind? I humored you because Pepper gave me a call to hear you out, but I’ll have to be more wary granting favors for friends. If you’ll excuse me?”

You don’t even have the chance to get up before he’s moving around to the door. He opens it up and leaves, disappearing to the right.

A moment later, Kay moves in and stops when she sees you.

“Oh, you’re still here? You should leave before he comes back. He’s an asshole but that was him being nice.” She explains, moving to his desk to drop off a thick yellow notebook.

When she turns, she stops by the end of the desk, looking at you pointedly.

You get up without word, moving out of the office feeling like there’s fire in your veins.

Loading the elevator, you turn and press the ground floor button. The cold air that blows from the ceiling sends a chill down your spine and it’s the push you need to knock you out of your daze.

As the doors shut and Kay takes her seat behind her desk, your rage overflows into one loud exclamation of, “Fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“How long is this gonna take?” Bucky wonders, turning to Sam who sits beside him, relaxed as he lounges in his seat.

Bucky isn’t so unconcerned, sitting straight with one hand on his bouncing leg and the other balled into a fist on the table.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes, do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Fury asks, strutting towards them before stopping at the head of the table.

“Yes.” Bucky says, no fear or regret in his voice. “Y/N had a meeting with the head of A.I.M. today, to see if she could possibly get her job back.”

“Guess the money in her bank isn’t enough incentive to stop working?” Sam guesses.

Bucky shakes his head. “She wants to get back to normal if she can. We both do. But she’s having a harder time than I am. This means a lot to her.”

“Unfortunately for you and Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid Augustus Swan is a grade A asshole. I don’t think she’s going to come away from that meeting happy.” Fury says, pulling out his own chair to sit.

“Then we need to make this quick.” Bucky nods, leaning both elbows on the table.

“I’ll dictate how long this debriefing will run, Sergeant Barnes. Rush me and I’ll keep you here all night.” Fury threatens.

As Bucky frowns, ready to argue, Sam meets his eyes and as he swings his chair around to face him, he shakes his head to calm him and then swings it back to face Fury.

“What do you wanna know?” Bucky sighs, leaning back once again, defeated by Fury’s iron stare.

“Well, for starters, when did you notice that things weren’t exactly right on that plane?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“You were lucky.” Sam admits, walking beside Bucky at a casual pace despite Bucky’s desire to be with you already. “If that stewardess hadn’t moved you and your Mrs. to the front of the plane, you’d both be dead.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees, wringing his hands with anxiety. “Were you able to find him? The stewardess’s husband and son?”

“In Texas. They were in contact with the airline but even the airline didn’t know what happened so, Ross filled in the blanks without actually owning up to the responsibility of it. Blamed it on malfunctioning engines.

“They didn’t take it so well. They’ve been paid off, but that hardly makes up for the years that kid is going to live without his mother.” Sam grieves, feeling for the family.

“I’m glad they at least know.” Bucky admits. “Y/N will be glad to know they’re able to mourn her properly. She won’t be happy but at least her heart will ache a little less.”

“She’s a good woman, Bucky.” Sam reaches over, clapping his partner once on the shoulder. “But she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Bucky’s mouth turns into a small hesitant smile, shaking his head.

“Like, she’s got you whipped, dude. Whipped!”

As Sam laughs, Bucky follows, relaxing a little and grateful for the levity.

“You say that like it’s bad thing.” Bucky throws at him, but Sam takes his hand back and gestures his denial animatedly.

“No, I never said that. Honestly, anyone who says being whipped is a bad thing obviously never got it right.” Sam shrugs.

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” Bucky pretends to be thoughtful. “How’s that possible when you’re single as hell?”

Sam stops walking, fixing Bucky with a glare before he nods, looking betrayed.

“Alright, I see how it is. Don’t forget I owe you a tracking chip, Barnes. I will literally implant one in your ass.” Sam threatens, but Bucky can only laugh as he stops to look back at him.

Sam smiles, and for a moment Bucky can swear he looks almost grateful to have him back. Although he’s opted to take a break, a long one so that he can build a life with you before he goes back to work, he suddenly feels eager to return and really get to know his new partner.

“Will you come over for dinner next week? Once we’ve had a chance to settle in?” Bucky takes a step towards the three-story townhouse, a lovely pale sandstone exterior with dark gray highlights around the windows and teal front door.

You’d chosen the color specifically and though you didn’t explain it, he knows you’d picked it because it reminded you of the waters around the island.

You had loved your morning swims. It’s only natural that you miss the water if not the isolation. And yet, now that you’ve both been back, he sees you timidity as you walk out into the world and it makes his heart ache.

“Depends.” Sam quips, “You cookin’? I don’t wanna get food poisoning.”

Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “No. Y/N will be cooking. She’s got it all planned and the menu all thought up. She’s pretty excited about having you over actually.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there. Tell her I’m looking forward to it and I hope things are okay with A.I.M.” Sam’s well wishes give Bucky a warm feeling in his chest.

His two worlds are one in this moment and he appreciates the generosity that Sam has had welcoming you into their group.

Bucky wants to keep you as far away from the danger as possible but seeing as you’ve already been blown up on a plane because of him, he’s grown accustomed to the idea that he can’t ever keep you one hundred percent safe. He’ll have to take it day by day.

“Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. I’ll tell her. Hey and uh…maybe you should ask Sharon to come? Y’know…”

Sam quirks an eyebrow, his face full of wonder at Bucky’s audacity.

“…as your date?” He finishes, an amused smile overtaking his handsome face as he turns up and takes the steps two at a time.

“That’s not funny, Barnes!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be!” Bucky calls back then wiggles his eyebrows at Sam as he shuts the door.

Eager to find you, he drops his keys on the unpacked boxes by the door, stripping off his coat slowly as his ears listen intently to the sounds of the house.

The inside is simple, a dark gray concrete floor makes up the foyer that then shifts into stunning dark oak hardwood flooring. The windows are large with thin frames made of black steel. Immediately after the foyer to the right is the living room, two bright red sofas—one full and one loveseat—are pushed against the far wall, an unassembled coffee table half pulled from its box. A rolled up decorative rug lays on top of the larger sofa.

An open concept, the dining room follows the first floor with a decently sized dining table lighter than the floors with mid-century dining chairs in pale peach. Two of them are still wrapped in plastic.

On the other side of the dining table, is the black concrete kitchen island with maple cabinets. A black stainless-steel fridge and matching chef grade six burner stove are already hooked up an in use, a small pot of what smells like alfredo sauce burning and emitting the first puffs of black smoke.

Bucky drops his jacket and races for it, pulling the pot away from the flame then shutting it off.

“Shit…” He sighs, taking the pot to the sink then freezing when he sees cold noodles, all mushed and sticky and obviously overcooked thrown in what he can clearly see is a small fit of frustration from you.

He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he thinks about what he’ll possibly be able to say to make this day better for you. There has to be something that he can do.

As he waters down the sauce and begins to dump it, he makes up his mind.

He cleans the dishes first, then makes for the fridge to see what else you’ve bought to cook.

He finds the chicken that would have been for the pasta you were making and takes that out along with a few tomatoes, sharp cheddar, and beautiful red and yellow peppers.

Dinner is quick work, and though Bucky isn’t sure what he’s making will be very appetizing, he pours his heart and soul into this meal hoping that it’ll heal a bit of the darkness this day has obviously brought.

He sets the table and as he places the down two wine glasses, he suddenly hears a swell of music upstairs.

It’s beautiful, this melody, and it reminds him of a song that he knows he must have heard. There’s a full string orchestra, woodwinds, and a deep bass below. It all sounds beautiful, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s melancholic and he can only imagine the state you’re in.

Deciding to get you down here before he pulls the wine from the fridge, he heads up the stairs.

The second floor has three bedrooms two on the left and the master on the right with a master bath and the second full bath sharing the same wall.

Although the inner walls of the house are made up of insulated and soundproofed drywall, the walls of each room on the outside are exposed sandstone brick, slightly darker than that of the exterior.

Bucky makes his way to the last door on the right, listening for a moment but the music is coming from the third-floor attic space.

Attic is used as a loose term. The space is actually completely open, nothing within it yet save for the large radio system that you brought from your place. The high-tech turntable is plugged into sturdy speakers that almost make it sound as if the orchestra is in the attic with you.

Bucky steps up onto the landing and spots you standing at the far end staring up at the large skylight as the sky grows darker with dusk’s quick approach. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re cold, the large sweater you’re wrapped in making you look soft and huggable.

You take his breath away, every time he sees you like this. You’ve always been beautiful but seeing you in clean clothing that isn’t torn or saturated in sea salt makes his heart skip a beat. He likes you looking cared for. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight since you left the hospital and there is nothing sexier than how you look now.

The stretchy tights you wear underneath your sweater hug your curves tight, thick woolen socks on your feet.

If you hear him come in, you don’t show it. Your hands are clasped around the sleeves of your sweater, clinging tightly as you struggle with whatever you’re thinking.

Bucky needs to know what he can do, but he’s afraid to make it worse.

The only thing he can think of is to hold you, so that’s what he does.

He moves up behind you, waiting a moment before he places his hands on your shoulders then traces them down along the length of your arms. The way you have them crossed also brings his arms around your body.

As you melt against him, Bucky exhales the breath he’d been holding, kissing the side of your head as you shut your eyes and sigh.

“One of the things I hadn’t realized I’d missed being stranded on that island was music.” You tell him, voice conversational despite the grief you seem to still be processing.

“Me too.” Bucky admits, listening to the swell of music with new ears.

It gives him goosebumps.

“I guess things didn’t go well at A.I.M.?” Bucky probes gently, his lips pressed against your head as you continue to watch the sky through the skylight.

“I can’t exactly tell them that I was stranded on an island after my plane blew up.” You shrug. “Honestly, the guy was a pretty big jerk but, he’s right. They couldn’t exactly hold my position for me.”

Bucky sighs deeply, hating the disappointment in your voice. “You’ll find something, kitten. I’ll help you look.”

You shake your head. “I think maybe I should just take some time.”

“I think that’s a very good idea.” Bucky admits, his lips once again pressed to your head. He can’t seem to help himself. He wants to kiss you better, but he knows it’ll only do so much.

Both of you are aware just how much you’re struggling to get used to being back home.

You fall into silence, Bucky’s arms content to hold you.

Oh, shit. Dinner.

“I made you something to eat.” Bucky whispers, then drops his arms as you turn to look at him.

“Shit, the sauce!” You exclaim, fear making your eyes dilate.

“It’s okay, kitten. I took care of it.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I’m so stupid.” You whimper.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. Alright? Nothing to worry about.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles before lacing his fingers through yours to pull you from the room. “What do you think we should do with this space?”

He hopes you can’t see through his attempt to distract you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, looking back up at the space as he pull you down the stairs.

Bucky waits as you think, letting you lead the pace of conversation.

“We could just make it a multipurpose room.” You brainstorm. “You’ll need a gym? And I could use a space for reading.”

Bucky smiles, glad you’ve gotten your mind off your lost A.I.M. job, even if it is for a few moments.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll have to get you a nice lounge chair and some bookshelves.” Bucky nods eagerly.

As he pulls you through into the dining room, he lets your hand go to pull out your chair.

“This looks so good, babe.” You gasp, eyeing the cheesy chicken on your plate, laden with tomatoes and peppers. “Thank you so much.”

Bucky watches you sit down, your voice breaking as you thank him and then you’re shoving your hands over your face as you sob.

He doesn’t need you to say anything and there’s nothing he can say to make it better. All he can do is drop to his knees and pull you into his arms, holding you tight as you let the stresses of the day spill out.

You bury your face against his neck, clinging to his shirt tight, somehow making Bucky feel more needed here than you ever did on the island.

“I’ve got you, kitten.” He whispers, squeezing you tight. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you going to do today?” Bucky whispers, eyes still shut.

He gives you a fright, making you jump with his sudden question and you turn to hide your face in your pillow as you laugh lightly.

“Holy fuck, Bucky!” You shout into your pillow and feel him shift beside you, his hand moving across your lower back. His hand over the sheets you’re using to cover yourself.

You turn to look at him, biting your bottom lip with playful anger.

“I’m sorry.” He laughs silently, puffs of air as he blinks slowly, like cat. Telling you he loves you without saying anything. “Serves you right for watching me sleep.”

“You’re so pretty though.” You tell him, reaching out to trace his nose from bridge to tip.

“Me?!” He asks, astonished by the news before he throws himself over you, grabbing your wrist as he goes to pin it up above your head.

Settling his weight on you, he breathes in and out heavily, enjoying the feel of you beneath him. With your wrist in his metal grip and his flesh hand squeezing your hip, you chuckle happily, licking your lips.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I’m beautiful, what does that make you?”

“Normal?” You wonder, knowing he’ll refute any disparities you make in your self-assessment. He’s biased. He loves you.

“Perfection.” He whispers, and you shake your head because you knew it had been coming.

“Nobody’s perfect, Bucky.”

“You’re perfect for me.” He clarifies, and leans down to kiss your lips slowly, just a peck.

He holds it, staring into your eyes.

“Perfect with me.” He continues.

You smile, perfectly at peace.

“You never answered my question.” Bucky tells you, throwing himself onto his left side, keeping his right arm around your waist.

“What question?” You wonder, reaching over to stroke his hair.

“What are you gonna do today?”

“Oh.” You sigh. “You’re going in today, finally?”

“Just for the day. Getting acquainted with the new headquarters. No missions yet. But soon.” Bucky nods.

“I’m gonna have to get used to being here without you.” You turn onto your side and scoot in close, pressing your nose right up to the tip of his, shutting your eyes in subdued lamentation.

“I’m gonna have to learn to leave you behind too.” Bucky points out. “I’ve gotten used to having you nearby, kitty cat.”

You laugh. Reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Remember when you woke up on the beach? Right after the plane crashed?” Bucky’s brow puckers, a little crease between his steel and ice eyes.

“I remember you yelling at me to move.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“You might as well have.”

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

“Yes you do.”

“Fuck. You’re right, I do.” He chuckles.

“Stop hurting my feelings, Barnes.” You pout.

He laughs, pulling you close again to kiss you.

“Mmm.” He mumbles, “Baby?”

“Yeah?” You pull back, catching your breath and pulling back to look at him.

“Why is it so damn hot in here?”

“I was cold.” You force a smile, too tight, too toothy. A downright look of guilt if ever Bucky saw one. “Too hot?”

“Not yet.” Bucky mutters, crawling over you again, his hands trailing down; one pushes your white long-sleeved shirt up to expose your tummy while his other hand slides down past the waistband of your sleep shorts. “But we can fix that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s exhausted. He didn’t know how much energy it would take to get back into the swing of things.

As he trudges along down the sidewalk, he passes a few people and they kindly look up and smile at him, waving when they recognize him.

His interview after his rescue seems to have changed the mind of most people in the city. He’s no longer the Winter Soldier, but Sergeant Barnes.

“Hi Sergeant Barnes. Nice night?” A lilting voice asks.

He looks up in search of its owner and finds a young brunette walking by him. Dressed in a tight silver cocktail dress with sparkling sequins along the bottom hem of the skirt and a black coat much thinner than she should need in tonight’s cold.

The flirtatious tilt of her head and the sparkle in her eyes leaves him in no doubt of her aim.

“It’ll be much better once I get back home to my girl.” Bucky tells her, turning to walk backwards a few steps as he waves her goodbye.

“Lucky lady.” She tells him, pulling her bag up higher on her shoulder.

“I’m the lucky one. Have a good night, Miss.” Bucky gives her a nod and turns to be on his way.

He’s not sure if it’s wrong that he feels it necessary to mention you whenever a woman pays him this kind of attention. There are plenty who have wished him a good night without the flirting that he carries on conversations with and manages not to bring you up.

It’s almost like he uses you as a shield.

As he reaches the steps of the house, he climbs them quickly and then waits by the door with his hand pressed over his heart.

That girl really made him anxious. He doesn’t like being seen like that. It’s invasive.

When his heart is steadier, he pulls out his keys and lets himself in.

There’s a rush of hot air that chokes him. He coughs, pulling at his collar as he reluctantly shuts the door and its influx of arid air.

He sheds as much of his outer clothes as he can. Blue jacket and the gray sweater beneath it leaving him in a plain red t-shirt.

“What the hell?” He gasps, dropping his outerwear on the floor before locking the door and venturing up the stairs.

The entire first floor is empty. Dark. The smell of whatever you had for lunch still filling the house. Grilled cheese?

“Y/N?” He calls, moving for the bedroom but he finds it empty. “Baby?”

There’s a sudden rush of wind, a flash of lightning from the third-floor stairs, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

It pulls his gaze up and he follows his instinct taking the stairs two at a time.

Since moving in, after spending each day taking care of one room of the house at a time, the attic is no longer empty.

As he reaches the landing, to his left is a small home gym. Each piece picked out by him, a punching bag, mats, weights, treadmill for you if you ever decide to use it. Bucky prefers to run outside.

On the right side of the room, your reading corner. Six shelves at least seven feet tall with a step ladder to reach the higher shelves. There’s a tea table, two comfortable padded chairs, and another deep enough that you could curl into it and sit all day reading without needing to get up.

There’s a reading lamp and a colorful carpet to make the space cozier and on across a small coffee table a lounging sofa for Bucky to lay on when you’re reading and he just wants to be by you.

On the far side of the room, directly under the skylight, he spots you on a platform bed you’d had set up for what Bucky had thought was sky-watching. He can see that he was right.

Your eyes are trained on the sky above, thunder clouds flashing and echoing around the house.

Around the bed you’ve set up what looks like a semi-circle of potted trees. A mixture of four-foot palms and Cycas, all surrounding the head of the bed.

Without a word Bucky makes his way towards you, stripping down to his briefs as he goes. When he reaches the bed, he finds you also in your underwear, sheets tossed aside as you lay with your head against the pillows and your eyes trained on the window.

He crawls in, stopping over you for just a moment to smile down at you and lean down to kiss your lips.

Your hands come up to caress his ears, then up to the back of his head.

“You cut your hair.” You observe, a glint in your eye that tells him you like what you see.

He lays beside you, looking up to see what you see, and he finds a strange sense of calm fall over him.

Placing his hands on his chest, he relaxes and then reaches down to take one of yours.

“So, this is what you’ve been up to with the trees?”

“Something didn’t feel right.” You admit. “I think I found the answer.”

The heat, the sound of thunder, the lightning overhead, and now with the jade leaves of these trees filling his line of sight, bucky can almost see himself back on the island. Back when it was just them and no one in the world could hurt either of you. Where life was much simpler. Wilder. And just a bit quieter.

Even though things have gotten better, this feels like the world of two where your love was born and nurtured.

“This is amazing.” Bucky admires, giving your hand a squeeze. “I think we should get married.”

You turn to look at him, eyes wide.

“Too soon?” He checks, turning to look at you too. “Marry me, kitten.”

Bucky watches you turn onto your side. He mirrors you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Whadya say?” He waits, heart pounding despite his calm exterior.

He feels your hand trail down his side, tracing the side of his thigh before you bring it around to his butt then without warning give his left cheek a nice squeeze.

“Not the left side!” He yelps.

“I will!” You agree, giddy and the happiest Bucky has ever seen you.

Somewhere past the burn of the spot where Sam had pierced him with that implant gun, past the pain and the throbbing, Bucky realizes you’ve just agreed to be his wife.

[enbyprentiss]

Anxiety

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Warnings: None:)

also, I’m working on your guys’ requests so expect new things soon. i promise i didn’t forget about those lol:)

--

Y/N and Spencer had shared a room before. As far as the team was concerned, they were taking him off of their hands. Not that they minded, that’s what best friends are for. Yup, just two best friends who definitely didn’t want to be anything more. At least that’s what they had convinced themselves into believing. 

So, yes, sharing rooms like this was nothing new but did it make the both of them nervous wrecks? Yes. Was this also unfortunate to their poor teammates stuck in the room(s) next to them? Also yes. Why? Because they were both widely known for staying up incredibly late. Playing cards, debating about whatever their hearts desired, running down the halls and back from the vending machine trying their best not to let their giggles escape, and then laughing so hard that one of them (usually Spencer) falls off the bed once they get back to their room, which only makes them laugh harder to the point that it hurts. Even occasionally jumping on the bed like they’re two 13-year-olds at a sleepover. See, that was one of the many things Spencer loved about Y/N. They didn’t just think of him as some super-human computer. They always appreciate his intelligence, of course. But to them, he was so much more. They always brought out his inner-child that he wasn’t afraid to show in front of someone for once. And one of their favorite things to do together, whether it be in some random hotel in some random state, or one of their apartments was watch horror films together. 

And usually, they would just laugh at how predictable they all are. Spencer rambling on about statistics and how all the characters should’ve seen it coming and Y/N listening closely to what he had to say just like they always did. But not this time. Well, Spencer still rambled on that’s just who he is. Which means he didn’t notice Y/N clutching the bed sheets tighter and their eyes widening while they actively tried to disguise their fear. They didn’t know what was different this time. Maybe it was the particularly gruesomeness of this case. Or just this particular film. Either way it didn’t change that they were scared absolutely shitless. 

Which also means that once they had both finished their nightly routines and climbed into bed, as far apart as they could possibly get so that they wouldn’t have to acknowledge any feelings, that Spencer was completely fine and Y/N was buzzing with anxiety. They tried to focus on the way his breathing evened out to silence their thoughts, not that that was working because it definitely wasn’t. 

Spencer sighed, “Y/N are you ok? You’ve been tapping your foot against the bed for like 20 minutes and it’s somehow moving the entire thing.”

“Yeah--yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

He furrowed his brow to himself, still facing the other way from them, until it hit him, “Oh, my God. You’re scared, aren’t you?”, he let out a soft laugh.

“Pfft--I am not! Shut up!”

He sat up to face them, and they could just slightly make out the smile on his face in the darkness, “You totally are!”

“Fine! Yes, obviously I am. How are you not? Did we even watch the same fucking movie?!”

“Y/N, we catch real killers and see real bodies every day.”

“And?! What’s your point?”

“That you shouldn’t be afraid of some stupid movie with fake killers and fake bodies. If anything, you should be scared of the real thing.”

“Oh, gee thank you so much, Spence. That’s really helping me.”, they rolled their eyes.”

“Ok, sorry. My point is that even if the movie was real, you shouldn’t be scared. I’ve seen you tackle full grown men that are easily double your size. I’m pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.”, he chuckled.

“Still! We’re in pitch black darkness and we’re both heavy sleepers so who knows if we would even register someone coming in here before we get murdered in our sleep and--”, they rambled and kept bouncing their leg. And in an uncharacteristic surge of bravery, Spencer scooted closer to them and swallowed them up in his lanky arms, which place their head against his chest.

“There. Better?”

Y/N froze for a second, a blush creeping onto their cheeks, “Uh-huh.”, they stuttered slightly.

“Good. Now, if we get murdered in our sleep, we’ll die together.”

They thought about telling him that they would’ve died together anyway, but now that some evidence had been put forward that their neglected feelings were mutual, they weren’t going to ruin it. Instead, listening to the soft thrum of his heart beat and syncing their breathing pattern with his.

“Goodnight, Spence.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Oh, and if you have nightmares, please don’t kick the shit out of me like you usually do.”, he huffed out a small laugh.

“I will do my best. No promises, though.”

--

They must have switched places at some point during the night, as Y/N woke up with Spencer’s head now against their chest and a click of a camera accompanied by the giggles of Emily and Morgan.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?”

“We’ve been looking for you and Pretty Ricky for the past ten minutes.”

“And this--”, Emily held out her phone with the picture of the two of them on it, “is going straight to one Miss Penelope Garcia. She has had her money on the two of you for months.”

“You guys placed bets on us? For what?”

“When you guys would finally wake the hell up and admit your feelings.”

“Ok, whatever.”, Y/N sighed, “Just--shhh.”, they tilted their head towards one supposed sleeping Spencer and shooed Derek and Emily away.

Once the hotel door clicked shut, they turned their attention back to Spencer and brushed some of the light brown curls out of his face gently. Which is when they also noticed the small smile on his face, “You’re awake aren’t you?”

They watched as he tried to suppress his giggles and playfully rolled their eyes, “I really hate you sometimes.”, they kicked the blankets off and got up.

“Oh, please. You love me and you know it!”

Damn, Spencer Reid, for always being right.

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on Stephen and Carol

That was... unexpected, to say the least. Now I have this task to elaborate my feelings and opinions in a way that is paradoxically personal and rational at the same time.

Let’s begin.

Background

Carol and Stephen know each other for a very, very long time. Their first team-up happened in Marvel Team-Up v1 #76 (1978), when Silver Dagger captured Clea (again - and yes, I’ll talk about her later). Both Spider-Man and Ms. Marvel decided to offer a helping hand to Stephen.

Stephen also assisted Carol in a mystic issue, combining their powers in Ms. Marvel v2 #4-5 (2006). It’s from this very run I suspect Kelly Thompson pictured the idea of a relationship between them. Nothing official, but all it takes to assume there’s something else going on is a mere look.

It’s true they were on opposite sides post Civil War, but Carol decided to join the New Avengers later on, which also gives this relationship one more layer.

Lastly, Aaron’s Avengers also featured them on the same team for a while, in addition to the previous Captain Marvel v10 #6-7, in which they swapped bodies and Carol had a taste of Stephen’s pain. We’re also considering Captain Marvel v10 #19 because, at this point, it’s clear that Thompson had plans for them since 2019.

Captain Marvel #27

Since this a blog dedicated to Stephen, it’s hard for me not to look through his perspective. I know the story is about Carol and how she’s struggling to mourn. But you’re all here for him. So this is my very detailed yet not-so-reliable review about their moment together.

....

Stephen is so sweet, wtf.

First, he confesses that he lost a patient on the table, WHICH MEANS that Thompson is following the events of Surgeon Supreme. Honestly? It’s the first comic book to do so. But fine. I can live with that.

Man is not having a good day. In fact, it’s a terrible day, which probably justifies the end. Here we another glimpse that Stephen still can’t deal with loss. Life is so important to him precisely because he has lost so much. In addition, for a moment, he forgets that Carol isn’t supposed to be drinking. So he turns the whiskey into Seltzer. In the meantime, Carol can’t help but relate to him. I know, Carol, I’VE BEEN THERE.

There’s another moment that warmed my heart (in a sense because it’s quite sad when you think about it). Stephen asked Carol if he was bothering her. Do you have any idea how insecure Stephen is? BECAUSE HE IS. He’s always afraid of bothering people and that’s why he isolates himself. That’s why he’s always pushing people away. That’s why he’s so miserable and lonely.

Stephen is the sweetest, I can’t. He doesn’t even know his own favorite color. COME ON, STEPHEN.

I admit, though. They know how to flirt. Stephen is the kind of person who flirts through self-loathing, which is only natural given his mental health. And Carol... Well, she’s a girlboss. It’s perfect. Also he’s sassy. And do I love my sassy boi? Very much.

But here’s another sad thing. Stephen is not seen as a “good addiction”. He’s simply not the worse one. And he’s aware of that. Do you know how I know? I mean, despite all the countless articles I wrote about his self-loathing?

Because of this:

Yet again Stephen is aware that he used someone else to fill his void. And yet again, he was used. I can’t remember the last time Stephen had a healthy relationship. In fact, I can. It was with Linda, the Night Nurse. And that was a loooong time ago. I can’t even begin to comprehend how lonely he feels. And how miserable he feels whenever he fails to create a solid bond. Not only romantic ones, but also platonic relationships and friendships as well. I want him to be happy, it’s not too much. So why am I on the verge of tears?

Fine. I dissected the issue panel by panel, such is my commitment. But how I truly feel about them? Before answering that...

Things to be considered

Hear me out. There’s a very famous forbidden OTP party in Secret Wars: Secret Love #1. I can’t remember the author of the post but here, on this very hellsite, they confirmed some of those OTPs were ships that Marvel would never allow to happen because they’re, well, LGBTQIA ships. Cherik? Yes. Stony? Yes. Kate Bishop and America Chavez? Yes. CarolJess? YES. It’s the closest we’ll ever get to Marvel’s main characters to be queer.

I’m quite open to shipping Stephen with any character. However, I cannot look away when I’ve always rooted for Carol to be an LGBTQIA character. So, much to my surprise, as I was checking the spoilers on the hopes that Jess and Carol would finally have a revelation... STEPHEN HAPPENED. Trust me, Carol stans, this was as much unexpected to me as it was to you.

Truth be told, as a Stephen stan, I get tons of hate, because people mostly know him for his Illuminati era and how patronizing he behaves sometimes. But this is the reason why I made this blog. I want more people to know Stephen as deeply as I do. I know it’s frustrating. But I’m not the enemy. You have no idea how hard I try to find subtle words and clues that Stephen is not straight (because he isn’t, please).

So, after all is said and done... I still think they’re cute. And please, do not hand me down a guilty verdict yet.

I think of Stephen a lot on a daily basis, so it’s only natural to headcanon which heroes he has hooked up with throughout the years. And I swear to Vishanti, Carol crossed my mind a few times. I only figured it would never happen. But it did and now I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. But it’s okay. Because it’s not going to last - and I’ll explain why.

The future

Despite the fact that CarolJess should be a thing™, when it comes to canon, she’s deeply connected to Rhodes. Their relationship is so important to Carol that she sacrificed it out of love. She’s mourning. There’s this feeling of emptiness in her heart, pretty much similar to what Stephen experienced when Clea left him the first time.

They’ve met in a very delicate and frail state of mind and spirit. Some (most?) people do it, as an attempt to fill the void with anything or anyone that resembles affection. They’re aware of that.

That’s why I don’t think it will last. It’s not a relationship born through mutual growth, it’s a relationship born in mourning and sorrow.

You know me, mates. I’d do anything for Stephen’s happiness. But that’s not it. His happiness lies on a powerful sorceress from the Dark Dimension. You know her name. And Carol? Well, if not on Jess because Marvel desires to keep selling comic books to homophobes, then on Rhodes.

It feels just like my hook up list headcanon, only better because there’s angst. And boi, do I love angst?

That said... We have more issues coming, in addition to that beautiful cover for #29. Let’s wait and see. I do think Carol and Stephen share an angsty a beautiful background and that’s why I’d rather have them instead of Elektra. No offense, Elektra and Stephen are HOT. But I believe Carol and Stephen offer deeper layers. And this is why I made such a long post about them and didn’t do the same to Savage Avengers. No matter how hard I try to be rational, when it comes to Stephen, it’s just stronger than me.

PS: forgive me if I missed something, I’m truly exhausted but my mind wouldn’t allow me to rest until I made this post. Thank you for your support.

[belphegor1982]

Your OT3 + "snack"

Yay 🥰 Thank you!! So - modern AU Tommy/Jon/Liz 💜

Everything happens pretty much like in Pirouette – except Jonathan is a little more overt with the flirting with both genders, while Tommy remains amused and fairly confused as to why he’s starting to develop these kinds of feelings for his best friend because? He thought he didn’t do attraction and romance??

Except it’s Jon, his blue eyes and his crooked grin, and he’s warm and soft and noodle-legged against Tommy when they walk (wobble) out of the pub after closing time. And sometimes they end up in the same bed – because Tommy’s room is on the second floor and when they’re both plastered and tired it’s just simpler to crash in Jon’s – and it feels really nice and comfortable in a way it probably shouldn’t between two straight lads.

Except. Tommy’s never been sure what he is, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel very straight. On the whole, straight blokes probably think a lot more about sex and a little less about what their male best friend’s lips would feel like against his. Theirs. (Bollocks.)

One night as they’re finishing their pints at the pub, Jon grins at Tommy and says, “You do know you’re a snack, right?”

Tommy has never heard the expression before but he can guess what it means, more or less. He smiles ruefully and says, “Yeah?’’

“Absolutely. What, no-one’s told you that before?”

“Not in such terms, no. Or… in any other terms, for that matter. I’m not good at – well, romance, I guess.”

Jon puts his chin into his hands and squints at him.

“How’s that?”

“Oh, well I only ever kissed like two people in me life and it was, er, nice, but… I think I’m a bit rubbish at it.”

Jon grins and says, “I bet you’re not.”

Maybe it’s the booze, maybe it’s a sudden resurgence of every time something in Tommy has yearned to reach out to Jon and take his hand, his arm, his waist, his lips – and okay, maybe this is what desire feels like after all –

“What do you want to bet?” he asks.

Jon holds out one peanut with a lopsided grin that almost makes Tommy burst out laughing.

“All right, then. Prepare to lose.”

…It’s Tommy who loses, technically, as their tentative kiss turns into an enthusiastic snog that leaves them red and breathless and ridiculously aroused – both of them, which Jon insists be chalked up to Tommy’s kissing not being rubbish at all. Later, after they hurry back to Jon’s room, after more snogging turns to holding and caressing and taking each other’s clothes off, after seeing stars and crying out and holding each other until their breath comes back, Tommy looks back at Jon in an astonished, delighted kind of exhaustion and says, “Best peanut I ever lost.”

The edges of Jon’s grin are dulled by the same exhaustion and his eyes are gleaming with the same glow currently warming Tommy to the tips of his toes when he kisses him.

* * * *

Things between them progress like they would have a hundred years ago. There is joy in discovery, both in body and soul. They are in much less danger than they would have been in Edwardian Britain, but they’re reluctant to come out as more than best mates. Homophobia is latent and still finds ways to remind you that, although your existence and relationships are valid and legal, there are still people who think you shouldn’t exist or at least make it so obvious that you are what you are.

So when Elizabeth McAllister – who goes to the same college they do and whom they vaguely know through her cousin Arthur – walks in on them kissing one day, Tommy and Jon are understandably tense.

As it happens, Elizabeth is not that different from them. As they strike up a friendship, they open up about themselves, and she admits one day that while she used to fancy one of her cousin’s male friends a few years ago, she belatedly came to realise that the first crush she ever had was on a female classmate when they were in fourth form. But her mother frowns on such ‘lifestyles’ and Elizabeth is low-key terrified she might find out one day – and how she might react.

They become good friends. They goof around, they study, they go to the pub (all three of them – the boys order pints, Elizabeth is partial to the hard cider), and they spend a lot of time relaxing around each other enough that they consider being flatmates next year when they can’t live in halls any more.

And Elizabeth, little by little, realises she’s carrying a torch for her two friends. A big one.

It doesn’t help when one day Tommy asks her, a little self-consciously, “What’s a ‘snack’, exactly?”

“In what context?” Elizabeth asks back, puzzled.

“In the context of someone telling someone else ‘You’re a snack’.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth colours a little and says, “Um – it means ‘I find you attractive’. Essentially.”

She tries to ignore the way Tommy’s goofy grin does things to her insides. And the fact that she just basically told him half of her innermost secret.

“All right, then.”

Elizabeth returns to her homework and quiet yearning and thinks this will go no further.

But yes, Tommy Ferguson is definitely a snack.

* * * *

It all comes to a head when the boys have their own startled realisation and come clean to Liz, feeling miserable and guilty, in the movie theatre just after the trailers and before the film begins. Tommy gets the shock of his life (one of them, anyway) when he feels Liz take his hand and Jonathan’s and fold them together in hers.

They don’t see the end of the movie.

Instead they get out, take the leap and start kissing – and suddenly everything makes sense.

(“Polyamory,” says Liz later, because she’s a thorough soul and she’s researched a lot in between her internal flailing. She’s also the one who first mentions asexuality to Tommy, who is a bit puzzled at first – “But does it still mean I’m ace if I’m attracted to you and Jon? Because I am, a lot.” “It’s a spectrum, Tom. You might be greysexual. Or demisexual. I wouldn’t presume to put a label on you that you don’t feel comfortable with.” Eventually Tommy ends up on ‘polyamorous bi greysexual’, which he thinks is right, if a bit of a mouthful. “Try fitting that on a business card,” he says, still self-conscious. Jon suggests ‘a very queer sort of fellow’ and proceeds to kiss him senseless. Tommy enthusiastically returns the sentiment.)

By an insane stroke of luck, they find lodgings together that they all can afford – a friend of Liz’s grandparents owns a three-flat house and agrees to renting it out to the three of them – and do become flatmates. Their first evening, their first night, their first morning – everything is fireworks and sweetness and warmth, and astonishment that they can do this.

(One of the only differences with the 1914 version of the trio is that Elizabeth knows beforehand what a clitoris is and what it’s called. She’s on the pill, too, and they use condoms anyway (it’s less messy, even though all three of them get tested at some point or another to be safe), but they don’t start to dance that dance until months into their relationship.)

At some point during the summer, while they’re lounging on the sofa scrolling on their phones and showing each other funny memes, Tommy looks up and asks, “How would you define ‘a snack’, really?”

“Depends on what you want on your toast,” says Jon distractedly while Liz laughs.

“Not that kind of snack, Jonathan.”

“What kind of – ooh, right. Well, er, attractive. Warm. And soft. And with an overall Tommy shape.”

Tommy’s face warms up. It doesn’t help when Liz puts down her phone and leans into him, her lips inches from his, smiling.

“I’ve had it on good authority that a ‘snack’ means a person who is delicious and cute. And you, Tom Ferguson, are both and more.”

Tommy smiles into the kiss, then wider when he feels Jon’s hands slither around his torso.

Later – much later, as they’re lying in each other’s arms in whichever bed they tumbled into that was closest to the couch (today it was Jon’s), breathless and glowing from happiness and sweat – Tommy presses a tired kiss into Liz’s hair and asks with a quiet laugh, “Where on earth did you hear that word in the first place?”

Liz shifts slightly against Jon’s chest and hums.

“What word?”

“‘Snack’. Doesn’t sound like the kind of slang you were used to. You know, before.”

“Before…?”

“Before you met us and we ruined you,” Jon completes with the soft grin that only comes out in moments like this one. Liz chuckles quietly.

“Is that what you call it?” She lets her palm run down Tommy’s arm until she reaches his hand, splayed on Jon’s bony hip, and laces their fingers together. “I heard the word from Olivia, of course.”

Tommy and Jon both give a nod or a small sound of assent. They’re familiar with Olivia Beresford’s extensive vocabulary and general character, both of which are somewhat surprising for someone on a first-name basis with Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie.

“But I’ll admit I didn’t quite grasp the concept till I met you,” she adds, turning towards Tommy and smiling widely.

Her smile, plus the way she snuggles him tenderly and the sensation of Jon’s hands searching for his waist (“There’s a reason they’re called love handles, old chap”), make Tommy’s throat just a little tight. Most of the time he manages to push away insecurities, but sometimes the world can be pretty unforgiving when you’re a chubby lad.

“So… I am a ‘snack’, en’t I?”

“The snackiest,” Jon mumbles into Liz’s neck, his palm warm against the cooling sweat of Tommy’s skin.

Tommy couldn’t stop smiling even if he wanted to.

(Obviously a LOT is different from the “main verse” (lol) of OSTSW, but I like this modern AU a lot ^^)