#sometimes i wonder if he ever did listen to those songs. hmm.

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

last year part of my christmas gift to him was a HANDWRITTEN with a glittery gel pen playlist of midwest emo song recommendations i promise im not lying

[peace-for-levi]

golden hour

{sometimes i get ideas for drabbles that aren't long enough to be chapters, or oneshots. this was going to be a side chapter/drabble of morgen, but i didn't like where it was headed so i rewrote it. pls accept my garbage, i wrote this in ~45 mins}

cw: i have projected!!!!!! my abandonment issues onto levi lmao. anxiety, trauma, very slight possessiveness (but not to the point it's unhealthy) references to smut from the night prior. so mdni! finale pt. 1/manga spoilers!!!

w/c: 1201

taglist: @levmada @poisonpeche @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @whattheheckmidoriya @notgoodforlife @anlian-aishang @unadulteratedtreecrusade @nelapanela94 (i honestly forget who's in my taglist??)

Levi Ackerman doesn't know peace. He is a man most acquainted with strife and sacrifice.

The void left in his heart after the Rumbling is gaping and steep. It pulls him into the dark, with little hope of anything good ever happening. Maybe he doesn't deserve it; maybe he isn't meant to have nice things. That's what the cynical side of him says. But then again, cynicism was all he ever had. Negativity, doubt... As a soldier, he always had to err on the side of caution.

So the idea of you laying in his arms, flush to his bare chest, is something so foreign to him. Levi can hardly believe his eyes.

Sunlight filters through the windows, casting rays and lighting up the room. Shining on you, he finally takes you -- and all your wonder -- in and he breathes easy.

He pulls you closer. Where is the next threat? When, even?

This is too good to be true.

You stir in his embrace and he relaxes, allowing you to fidget and stretch as needed. Your dewy and damp hair from last night clings to your forehead. Dirt doesn't repulse him too much anymore, he thinks. Well, not if it's you. He flicks the stray hairs dangling in your eyes away, and blows the rest away gently. Now he sees you.

He gasps when you smile in your hazy state, snuggling closer.

"Mornin'," you sigh.

"Mm." He doesn't mean for it to come across as a grunt. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

The gravelly baritone of his morning voice sends shivers down your spine. "Ohhhhh yeah."

It would be hard not to sleep well after last night, but he will stay on alert. He had his night of fun. Now it's time to get back to business. But what business does he have left? The teashop? It's closed today. Maybe cleaning the kitchen. Oh wait, you did a spring clean of it last night.

He sighs, heavily. It's hard to go from always having a task to do, to nothing at all. He can't lose his edge, it's too soon. It's barely been a few years. If he loses his edge, what happens then? What if you slip through his fingers? What if you realize that your time could be spent elsewhere, fulfilling whatever dreams you may have?

Not that he'd stop you, it's just…

I just don't have anyone else, he thinks, selfishly.

He must stay alert and aware all the time. He gave into desire last night when he could have been doing something more productive. If you continued to see how good he was, you'd continue to need him, hopefully. He needed you to rely on him, to need him, so that way, you'd always come back to him and you'd be in his life.

"You're shaking."

He's snapped out of his toxic train of thoughts. "Hmm?"

"When you tense your muscles, though it's faint, you shake, and…" you lean in closer, ear to his chest, "well, I feel it a lot more since I'm right next to you."

He sweeps his hand to cradle your head, wanting to keep you there.

"Sorry, guess I'm just…"

You peek up at him. "Just what?"

"Tch… Just forget it."

You blink owlishly. Sheesh, you only wanted to open a line of communication with him. But even after all those years, even when (an unsteady) peace between Eldia and Marley was established, he keeps his walls up. He doesn't know that it's okay to start taking down those bricks, however slow or long it may take him to.

The birds are chirping a song outside, perched on the sill. You smile softly, listening. "Do you hear them?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his arms. "Relax, and listen to them. They're trying to talk to us, maybe." You search for his eyes.

"Yeah, they say you need a shower."

Despite his joke, his pupils are trained on the door into the hall of your shared apartment. The poor man, is all you think; a tortured soul who's not used to reprieve and doesn't know how to accept the rest he deserves. Always on the lookout.

You shimmy out entirely of his grasp and sit up. Though faint, you don't miss the bit of resistance he put up. You purse your lips in thought. Coax him out of it. That's always been your go-to method of trying to get him to open up.

A small nudge in the right direction.

"Last night was fun."

He had started to hum with the birds up until then. He peers back and he turns fully to face you. "Good, I'm glad. I feel the same."

"So feel it," you insist. "I think you don't allow yourself to enjoy the nice things in life."

He scoffs, in denial. "I'd hardly consider this a pleasant "morning after" experience."

"Not when you keep yourself so guarded and cagey, no."

Whatever scoff or smirk he tried to force fell flat. He averts his gaze, sensing a lecture. But when you move to ruffle his slowly thinning hair, his milky and grey eyes find yours. You smile sadly at the grey hairs you spot.

"I'm fine, I'm okay, Levi. You don't need to worry about me, ever. So rest. It's just us, now."

He scoffs, again, and turns his back to you. You flop down and trace the pads of your fingers over his muscles. You trace every scar and blemish; every cut and piece of skin so torn, it can hardly repair itself back to "normal."

He's always been the most human of the lot, and the most scarred (in more ways than one.) He carries the scars with him. The anguished fallen, the courageous subordinates he never got to apologize to. He carries them with him. Like how he carries his former squad, Erwin and Hange.

"Put down your swords now, Levi, the war is over. Take off the armour, too, that shit gets heavy."

He swallows thickly. "What about you? What if you're ever in danger? With my body like this, I ca–"

"Leave the sword at your feet, then. Pick it up when you need to," you soothe. You lean down to kiss him. When his shoulders creak, you giggle. "See, you're getting old! We should resting now."

I just can't be alone. Not after everything that's happened, he thinks.

"'We'," he parrots. "What about when you get bored living with a cripple?"

What will I do when you leave me?

"Well, no one else can make Sunday morning pancakes like you!"

He smiles for the first time now, his lips curling with bliss. He has to internally fight the urge to tense. "Don't make it out that pancakes are an achievement… Then again, I have never seen someone so god-awful at flipping."

He rolls onto his back now. You lower a hand to his scarred, pallid cheek. You smooth a thumb under his milky eye. As gently as you can manage, you sink back into his arms.

"So as long as you'll have me, I won't be leaving any time soon."

You don't miss the thick swallow and the trembling lips.

"I'm staying right here, 'Vi."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rbs and comments always appreciated!! ♡

[cuiizhu]

Helios Rising Heroes - Buddy-Buddy

Not Mark Time, Forward March! - Sage Skyfall Card Story

Sage: Huh, so you use ready-made juice instead of fresh lemons here?

Nico: Either works I think, but I want to eat it already so this is much quicker. 

Nico: Robin bought lemons and stewed the peels with them, so I think you should do the same. 

Sage: Uwaah…. I mean I’m copying Sensei’s recipe to the T, but the taste I end up with still isn’t quite right….

Sage: Your method is unique, but if it allows you to recreate a taste similar to Sensei’s pie….then this is probably the final choice….

Nico: Just a lemon? 

Nico: Anyways…how’s Licht? Is he joining us today too?

Sage: Ah, yeah. He’s currently undergoing a test over at Professor Nova’s. 

Nico: Hmm…..

Sage: Sorry for taking up your precious break, but I felt really lucky you were free. 

Nico: If you don’t mind me eating the finished pie, you’re more than welcome.  

Sage: Thank you.  Yes, now I just need to practice! So I can let Licht-kun experience my favorite taste!

Sage: I’ll challenge myself everyday until I come up with a method I’m satisfied with, so come and try it anytime! Nico! 

Nico: Yeah, I will. 

Sage: I’ll start by mastering your version. Right now it’s the closest replica to that flavor. 

Nico: Got it, I’ll teach you, then. 

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

Nico: I’m hungry…..

Sage: Sorry. For now you might just have to snack on the leftover filling and bear with it….but can I add the cinnamon powder in now? 

Nico: Yeah, but the timing isn’t all that important….(chewing noises)

Sage: The brand name makes a difference, doesn’t it? Sensei always used the same cinnamon powder. 

Nico: Yeah, it matters. 

Sage: Ah…come to think of it, do you listen to any music, Nico? 

Nico: (mid-chew)...?

Sage: I’m asking around a bunch. This is also so Licht-kun can learn about different kinds of music. 

Sage: Side note, Bianchi-san ended up being very knowledgeable on that end. 

Nico: Sounds about right. 

Sage: The songs they play while working are apparently chosen to fit the theme of whatever costume they’re working on. It’s honestly kind of impressive. 

Nico: Did you ask Jude? 

Sage: Of course! Jude knew all kinds of songs too. 

Sage: Well I had the feeling, but all the songs he listed as his favorites are the same as Bianchi’s…. I guess those two really do get along ♪

Nico: …………..

Sage: So? What about you? 

Nico: I don’t really go there.  

Sage: I see…. well, that tracks. Even when we were in the same room, the topic never really came up. 

Sage: But… I have always wondered. 

Sage: When you’re in a good mood, you sometimes hum, right? 

Nico: ……………

Sage: I was wondering if you had a favorite song, and I’d like to hear it someday. 

Nico: That is…..

Nico: When I lived in my parent’s house, there were quite a few people around me who liked music……I think the songs they used to play often linger around in my memory. 

Sage: Aah, I see! So it’s like that, huh! 

Sage: Those experiences are connected to the present. In my case, it’s the opposite to yours. 

Sage: I remember in Sensei’s house, we rarely ever played music—

Nico: Huh? 

Sage: Oop–I ended up rambling about Sensei again……

Nico: ?

Sage: No, I’ve just been thinking lately that I might talk about Sensei too much…….

Sage: I don’t really think too hard about it, and I like talking about him, but….sometimes it can be awkward for other people to hear about. 

Nico: ………….

Sage: I have to be careful when living with Licht-kun from now on. 

Nico: …..Sage, if you don’t hurry, the apples will go dry. 

Sage: Uwaah!? You’re right….!

Sage: Ah man, I need to get quicker like you…..

Nico: Speed is important, but there are times when taking it slowly is too. 

Nico: I want to eat things quickly, so I take various shortcuts, but Robin often warned me that it wouldn’t taste as good. 

Sage: …Eh?

Nico: I also learned a lot about cooking. 

Nico: We made things side by side in the kitchen like this. I didn’t know anything, but Robin taught me everything from scratch. 

Nico: Cooking is my memory with Robin. 

Sage: I see….

Nico: I think you can talk whenever you want to. 

Nico: Maybe wait and see about Licht, but you don’t have to hold back in front of us. 

Sage: Nico……..

Nico: I think it’d be more concerning if you didn’t talk about him. 

Sage: Ahaha….. well, you might be right on that…..

Sage: Yeah, I guess I’ll just stay the same for you and the others. 

Sage: ….If I could do that, I’d be really happy too. 

Nico: Yup. 

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

Sage: Here, Licht-kun. Thank you for waiting. 

Licht: Wah…..

Licht: It’s an apple pie….

Sage: I’ve had you eat it once before. I think the taste has improved since then. 

Sage: This is my favorite. I really want Licht-kun to know this taste—

Licht: The one I ate before was good though….? 

Sage: Eh……

Licht: Thank you for the food. 

Licht: …..Yup, It’s yummy today too. 

Sage: Waah….!

Sage: I’m so glad….. There’s still a lot, so eat as much as you like! 

Licht: Mhm.....

Sage: (I did it, Nico! Licht-kun liked it!!)

Sage: (I’m glad….. I’m so glad…….!) 

Sage: (Thank you so much, Nico. I’ll come see you again with lots of delicious thanks—) 

Event Story || Junior Cardsto

[bettyweir]

My Bandmates a Vampire

Chapter 4.

Word Count: 1.6k

WARNINGS: This chapter will include; Parental abuse, Parent arguing with their Kid and Yelling.

Please feel free to skip this chapter or

Stop reading at '"Yea!" Ethan says starting to scroll though their songs.' and start at '"Hey hey," Ethan's mom puts his hands on his shoulders, "Are you okay? Who even was that?"'

[First] [Prev] [All] [Next] [Ao3]

Benny rings the Morgan’s doorbell.

Ethan rushes to the door a muffled “I got it!” is heard from the other side.

He opens the door to 2 benny, who has a backpack on with a guitar in hand.

“Oh hey what's up?”

“You wanted to play together right,” he lifts up his guitar “Is now a good time?”

“Yeah! Yes yeah of course come on in!” he opens the door.

“Oh hey did you rip that CD?” Ethan asks heading to the kitchen.

“Ah. Uh. About that.” Benny nervously adds “My laptop’s completely dead so…”

“Ah right, water damage im guessing?”

“Yeah…” benny defeatly sits on Ethan’s countertop, he immediately shoots up.

“OH WAIT” he flumbes for his back pocket, pulling out his Ipod nano.

"Its not offically on Itunes or anything but," he starts untangling his earbuds and hands one to ethan "I got it on here."

Ethan takes the earbud and rubs the earwax off on his shirt before putting it in.

They listen to a couple of his songs and Ethan’s aboslutely blown away. As the song finishes Ethan pipes up.

“Omg dude this is so good??" he takes the bud out of his ear, "who’s on the drums?!”

“Oh me” he smiles

“What? No way, your singing tho right?”

“Uh yeah but you can sing and play the drums at the same time dude.”

“Oh. wait really?" he questions, “Wouldnt the mic pick up the drums tho?”

“Nah not if you lean into the mic!”

“Inch-a-resting…” he ponders, “you’ll have to show me sometime!”

“For sure, if my packages ever arrive…”

“Oh what do you mean?”

"I came over via airplane so like. most of my shit is shipping in boxes."

"Aw that sucks, well I bet they'll be here soon!"

"Yeah, hmm." Benny thinks on it, his shoulders slump. "I'm. gonna go call and check if thats okay."

"Sure! sure! Can I keep listening to your music?"

"Hell yeah go ahead." Benny smiles handing E his Neon Green Ipod and walking off. "Is this your restroom?"

"Yea!" Ethan says starting to scroll though their songs.

Benny locks the door behind him and hesistently clicks on his fathers contact.

It rings. And Rings.

And rings…

And rings…

No answer. Fucking christ. Benny thumps his feet and before he could hit call again, its his dad.

"Hey Ben what do ya want?"

"Ah ha hey dad," Benny holds his arm to try to manage the shakes. "Just checking in."

"I'm doin' fine, really why are you calling so early."

"Oh ahha" he squeaks, his nervous laugher failing him. "Forgot time zones and everything haha, just wondering if you when my stuff will get here."

"Huh?"

"My stuff, like the boxes I packed, when did they expect em to arrive?"

"Oh, I didn't get to it yet."

"What?" Benny strained his voice to be calm.

"I didn't ship them yet I'll do it this week."

"This week?" Benny pulls on his hair. "It can take MONTHS for shit to travel internationally, I need it to be shipped now!"

"Hold your horses lady don't speak to me like this."

"I can speak to you how ever I want! It's my fucking things!"

"Who bought you half those things?"

"I DID. WITH MY MONEY!"

"Uh huh sure," his dad pauses to take a drink.

Benny can hear the annoying, discusting slurping noises from the other side. "Why the fuck didn't you ship it sooner?"

"I forgot okay? Jesus maybe I don't wanna think about how my kid left me."

"That's all you fucking do! All you do is fucking forget you peice of human shi-"

Back in the kitchen ethan is mindlessly jamming out to the G's songs. He waves at his mom entering the kitchen with a horrorified look.

She says something to him.

"What?"

She says something again.

"Wait."

Ethan takes pulls out an earbud to be met with the screaming match happening the next room over. He can finally hear his mom.

"Ethan what in gods name is happening?" she puts her hand over her heart, "Is your friend okay?"

"Oh jesus I didn't even notice," He rips out the other bud and runs over to the bathroom door.

"Benny?" he knocks, "Are you okay."

Benny stops in his tracks. Jesus fuck, you idiot, your in another persons fucking home right now. Haven't you learned to shut the fuck up already.

He twitches. "Just fucking ship it TODAY alright? Do this ONE fucking thing." Benny hangs up, he's shaking uncontrollably.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door. He's met with Ethan and his mom wearing worried faces.

"I'm really sorry about that Ms.Morgan," he covers his face to hide from the emberassment. "I shouldn't have done that here."

"Hey hey," Ethan's mom puts his hands on his shoulders, "Are you okay? Who even was that?"

Benny glups "My dad." he just wants to cry.

"You poor thing," she gives him a hug. "Ethan said this was something to do with drums right?"

He looks up at Ethan who gives him an anxious smile, "Yeah, yeah my dad hasn't shipped my drum kit, or anything else."

"I'm sorry," she rubs his back and pulls out of the hug, "I don't know how to make you stuff ship faster but, I do have a nice set of drums with your name on it in the attic."

"Wait really?" Benny smiles.

"Yeah If you can two can find it its all yours."

Benny pogs over at ethan, "DUDE CAN WE?"

"Look for it?" Ethan asks "Sure but I have horrible alergies…"

"YES LETS GO." He grabs Ethan's jean jacket, but stops before running off.

"Ms. Morgan where's the attic door?"

She shakes her head at the overly excited boy "Here follow me."

She leads the boys upstairs to the room next to Ethans and knocks on the door.

"Jane," she knocks "It's me can you open up?"

"What is it?" she opens the door, confused by the crowd.

"Ethan and his friend need to go though the addic, do you mind?"

"Yes I do," she huffs "This is a girls only space."

"How does a bowl of icecream sound as a trade?" her mom offers.

"With sprinkles?"

"With Sprinkles."

"And whipped Cream?"

"Yes, but don't push it."

"YAY okay." she hops along, pulling and dragging at her moms sleave.

"Alright, the" she tries to resist Janes tugging "the door is right next to her dresser, and- and feel free to pull anything out I'll put it back!"

She finally gives in to Janes will and fumbles downstaires.

"So that was your sister."

"Dont. Even say anything."

They enter the overly pink and plush-a-fied room and start pulling open the door. With a bit of elbow greese the small wooden door slams open

"OW my hand." Ethan wags his hand back and forth.

"Haha loser." Benny teases, getting on his hands and knees to crawl though. "Oh its fuckin dark in here."

"Here I got it." Ethan pulls out his Iphone's flashlight. "Does this help any?"

"Yea yea thank you." Benny starts scowering the boxes filled with junk.

Ethan follows along and shines the light on different contaners trying to make out the lables. A lot of holiday stuff like christmas, valentines day, thanksgiving, and halloween. Festive Family I guess. They go farther and farther into the hord, finally finding stuff like Wedding Day and Baby pictures.

At the very end, shoved into a corner, begging to be for gotten a drum and a symbol is found.

"AW FUCK YEA!!" Benny cheers, moving them aside, to find more parts and bits for the drums. in the very middle of the mess is an unlabled box.

"Huh." Ethan looks over benny's shoulder. Trying not to sneeze at all the dustmites. "Whats in that?"

"I don't know I don't see any lables." He shrugs.

"I wanna seee." Ethan begs.

"Okay okay, can we take out the drum stuff first?"

"Augh alright but thats so weird." Ethan says, as benny loads his arms up with symbols and screws "Everything else here is labled pretty perfectly.

"Maybe she just forgot to lable it." Benny says, rolling the kick drum infront of him.

Slowly all the drum parts, big and small were out of the addic and on janes floor.

"Okay now can we look at that box?"

"Alright mystery man, I bet its just gonna be like dolls or some shit."

They treck their way back though and lug out the surprisingly heavy box.

Ethan sits down and starts opening it up.

"Woahhh." Ethan starts pulling out photos and- "Hey what are you doing??"

"I'm setting up the drum kit!"

"Not here! Do you really wanna drag a set up drum kit down a flight of stairs."

"I've done it before…" He looks down. "But rather not again come on help me."

Ethan sets down the photo of a very gothic looking woman who seems familiar and follows benny downstairs grabbing a small drum on the way down.

"Hiya." Benny says, arms loaded with drums "We found it!"

"Yay!" Jane cheers, face covered in chocolate and vanilla icecream. "is that why they were in my room?"

"Yes, and thats great…guys." She still couldn't remember the boys name.

"Where should we set this up?" Asks ethan.

"Oh in the garadge if thats okay!"

"Got it thank youu." Ethan heads to the back door and holds it open for Benny.

After the boys drag everything down into the outside garage they can finally open up the mystery box Ethan was so weirdly excited about.

Turns out, the woman in all those pictures next to famous bands like The Cure, The Smiths and The damned was his step mom in the 80s! He couldn't tell if she was backstage fan for these bands or… playing with them? No way right? All of these bands already had established drummers why would they need some suburban mom to play with em?

All of these questions brewed in Ethans head, since Benny was much much more interested in setting up his new drum kit. He would hear him occationally murmer

"Holy shit this is a Ludwig set…" and "AN IMPULSE CRASH BROOOooOO."

whatever that means.

"Hey im gonna go head inside, Do you want anything to drink?"

"Uhh yeah sure do you got any apple juice?" Benny says, not looking up.

"Yeah I think so." Ethan says, grabbing a few of the photos, "I'll be back."

[writtenbyhutchcraft]

5,44 and 51?

Ahh these are fun ones! :)

5. When did you get into TK?

I'll just tell the full story of how I discovered them haha! So basically in like late 2016/early 2017 I rediscovered some old karaoke videogames for the Playstation that I used to be obsessed with as a kid, and they had some Killers songs on them (Human, Somebody Told Me, WYWY and Mr Brightside). I saw them and was like, 'oh, I remember these songs from my childhood, I've not heard them for ages'. So every time I would play those games I would choose to sing those Killers songs. The music videos were on the games too, and while I was singing I would watch them and find myself thinking, 'Hmm, Brandon Flowers is kind of cute', lol. But at that time for some reason, I thought that The Killers didn't make music anymore, so I thought there wouldn't really be a fandom for me to join (I was very wrong lol).

Then in June 2017, when The Killers did their secret set at Glastonbury, I was watching the festival on TV like I do traditionally every year. I sat down on the sofa to watch whatever band was on, and it was an interview with Brandon Flowers. And I still vividly remember seeing him on the TV and thinking he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life haha. I was like, 'Omg, who IS this?' And then the interviewer said he was Brandon Flowers from The Killers and I was like, " Wow, the guy I was obsessed with from those music videos is still making music and he looks even better now?" :o

Then after that, I slowly joined the fandom. It took me until like November to join the Killers fandom fully, because at that point in my life I'd just left some toxic fandoms and was having a break from the internet and social media in general. But then in November 2017 I saw another performance The Killers did on TV, and I was just like, 'no, I want to be involved with this, I love this band'. And then that was when I fully fell down the rabbit hole of falling in love with them. The first full album I listened to was Battle Born, and I have a vivid memory of listening to that album for the first time too. I remember hearing songs like Flesh and Bone, Runaways and Miss Atomic Bomb, thinking, 'Wow, I didn't know music could make you feel like this'. Then I listened to their entire discography and Brandon's solo music, I watched every video and interview on the internet, and I became obsessed with learning every fact I could about them. I went to my first ever Killers concert in July 2018 on the Wonderful Wonderful tour and it was genuinely life-changing.

I've been in this fandom for six years now, and The Killers are such a big part of who I am and my life. They've got me through so much and I'll forever be grateful that I found them when I did. <3

44. Do you ever want TK to collab with anyone?

I would love a Taylor Swift and Killers collab. Taylor and Brandon have so much in common and are very similar artists (country singer roots, having distinctive 'eras' in their career, lyrical themes of being from a small town/struggles with religion/not fitting in, etc.) Taylor and Brandon's voices would sound great together, and if they wrote a song together it would be genius. The only reason why I might not be sure about a Taylor and Killers collab is that Taylor is a huge artist, and some Swifties online can be really unkind sometimes towards artists she works with. Brandon is quite sensitive and I know he would take the comments to heart if people were mean to him, so I don't know. :/

Also, you know I would love a Killers/Hurts collab <3 They often work with the same producers so it could happen... Or just Brandon and Theo writing a song together. That would actually end me lol.

51. Favorite lyrics?

My favourite Killers lyric of all time is, "Should I just get along with myself? I never did get along with everybody else." from my favourite song of all time, This River Is Wild. This lyric literally speaks to my soul, I relate to it on a spiritual level and it means so much to me. <3

I literally have so many favourite lyrics, everything Brandon writes is my favourite really, but here are a few more: "And if they drag you through the mud, it doesn't change what's in your blood." (From Be Still, this entire song is some of my favourite lyrics though)

"Sometimes it takes a little bit of courage and doubt, to push your boundaries out beyond your imagining." (From Imploding The Mirage, the title track)

"These streets weren't meant to house jet-fueled engine dreams." (From Boy)

Literally the ENTIRETY of the album Pressure Machine, because every lyric on that album is poetry and means the world to me. <3

[the-jillie-thoughts]

Let Me Paint You, Love?

1. His idea

He was sitting alone at his usual cafe after a long day of his works. Office is hectic. He needed time for himself to ease his mind, to calm down. So again, he entered the cafe that day, ordered his usual cappuccino and two chicken sandwiches (because he was hungry and he could eat a whole bread manufacturing factory).

The cafe was few meters away from his office, across the road. It was homely and peaceful. People always came here to ease their minds after a tiring day. It usually was quiet in there until a group of people murmur among themselves. As if the environment of the cafe had the capability to discipline the most talkative person ever. Not that people would judge because everyone there remained busy with their own hobbies. Some did their pending official works, some read books, some listened to songs with their earphones plugged on, some just came here to eat and enjoy for refreshment. The interior was also not that grand but was cozy enough to make you feel like home. The food, especially the coffee here was really something that would have attracted any customer. The prices were reasonable. All in all, anyone, who once discovers this cafe, will never regret discovering it.

He took out his sketchbook from his side bag along with the pencils that were needed. Yes, he loved to draw. Everytime when he sat idle, he drew. It was his favourite hobby. Although he never admitted that his sketches are fabulous but deep down he always wished if he could be an artist. Not that his parents would be against his wish but it was him who lacked confidence within himself. He was blinded by these thoughts that his sketches were never enough. So he chose to remain silent and keep this passion of his as his only hobby. Did he regret his negligence? Sometimes- scratch that, he always did. But his current job wasn't that bad for his choice and he earned quite good for his living, so that would suffice (well that was his coping mechanism).

He was wondering what to draw. He sketched almost everything that he found, was fascinating to him. Be it the interior of the cafe; it's exterior where it had a flower garden that had a swing in the middle of it; stray dogs that passed by the cafe to check if the kind cafe owner who was a woman in her fifties, was ready with the leftovers. The mothers with the babies, the couples who came for a date; the couples who left after an argument; the road and the traffic- anything that was appealing to him.

But for few days, he was out of ideas. He had been going there for a long time. He discovered this cafe back in his college days and he loved it that very moment. Much to his surprise and delight, he found out that his office building was just a few meters away from this cafe. And ever since then he became the regular customer there. Even the workers and the customers there, grew fond of him and sometimes the workers gave him discounts for him being a permanent customer . Now that he was running out of ideas, he was getting a tad bit frustrated. He was afraid that he might grow out of this cafe because him coming here, was not only to ease his mind but also to fulfill his inner dream.

He closed his eyes while leaning his head against the chair to think of an idea when he heard the sound of the cafe door opening along with the door bell tinkling.

"Hello ma'am, welcome to XYz cafe" said the receptionist with her pleasant voice.

"Hi, I wanna order a chicken burger and a hot chocolate if that's available?" Said a girl with a wavering voice as if she sounded anxious.

He opened his eyes and sat straight to look at the owner of the voice, unconsciously.

"Sure ma'am, please take a seat. This will take a little time."

"Uh-hmm.." said the girl with wide eyes, as if she did a huge achievement by asking for HER meal. Then she entered the cafe, looking for a seat. Easily she got one because the cafe was never too much populated unlike those grand cafes where people practically need to bring their food back home instead of enjoying their time due to the overpopulation.

Although, to him, this cafe was world-class but he felt lucky that it wasn't yet well-known enough.

He saw her sitting in front of her, well, two seats ahead of him but her front was facing him so he could pin point every details of her. She was too much careful with everything she was doing- keeping her bag aside, opening it and taking out a book,

'Hmm, Agatha Christie i see..' he thought.

Then carefully chaining down the bag and facing the table to open the book. She was turning the pages, that too with such delicacy as if she didn't want the pages to make sounds while they were turned.

Almost not looking up at anything or anybody as if she tried her best to avoid human interactions.

She looked weird to him.

Short hair with red highlights. Round specs, that remained covered by her bangs most of the time. Tan skinned, at least that's what her face and her fist said because her rest of the body was hidden under the baggiest clothes he had ever seen or would ever see. She seemed short too and a year or two younger than him maybe ('cause that's how she looked like).

"Ma'am your order". Said the waiter who almost shocked the tiny girl.

"Uhh.. thank you?" She awkwardly took the plate with the most unprepared smile one can ever give.

"Ah hehe. Welcome ma'am." awkwardly said the waiter and walked away.

The tiny girl hesitantly checked her surroundings as if she was reluctant to eat in front of people. Suddenly she looked at him, directly to his eyes!

He almost dropped his pencil for the sudden eye contact which he was never ready for. She immediately turned her gaze away and started swallowing her food . Her cheeks slightly turning red(?).

Well, that didn't go unnoticed by him, but here he was, trying to control his fast accelerating heartbeats.

'Woah, that was sudden!' he thought but suddenly a bulb lighted up. He looked at her again, who was unaware of anything and everything around her. Then he looked back at the empty page of his sketchbook.

"Well, now I have got an idea".

.

.

To be continued...

[mochie85]

Do I Wanna Know

Chapter 35 of my Mayari series

Mayari Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: Thinking that life has finally settled down, an unexpected visitor comes and makes Loki question things about your past. A/N: I love these two. Mayari will always hold a special place in my heart because it was the first fic I ever wrote. I cringe sometimes reading my old posts because I know I've grown as a writer. haha. But I wanted to come back to these two. So, I hope y'all will indulge me. I added people to the taglist. Sorry if I overstepped, if you'd like to be taken off, please let me know. This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify. Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (reader) Word Count: 2021 Warnings: Mentions of smut. Mild smut... Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The quinjet touched down just before sunset. Three of the Avengers stepped off with their new consultant.

“We appreciate you helping us out,” said Steve.

“It’s no problem. Now…uh…you said you had someone on your team that has similar gifts to mine.” The consultant said. “Will I get to meet them?” he asked in a plummy accent.

“Ya. I’m curious how your power works if it’s similar to hers.” Tony said.

“Her?” the consultant wondered out loud.

“Yes. We’ve been testing her and pushing her, to see how her powers work. She’s very remarkable. She can sing without compelling anyone now.” Bruce added.

“Compel? Sing? Do you mean to tell me you have a Siren on your team?” The male consultant asked, disbelievingly.

“Yes! Her name is Mayari. Have you heard of her?” Bruce asked.

“The moon goddess?” the consultant asked with a growing smirk.

“The one and the same,” Tony confirmed. “Do you know her?” He asked, suddenly getting protective.

“Oh, we go way back. The goddess and I.” His step a little more upbeat, he followed the three Avengers down the elevator to the common room.

You were sitting on the barstool next to the kitchen island. You were scrolling through your phone, looking for recipes to make for dinner. “Maybe some lasagna? I’m sure those three would have a big appetite coming back from their mission,” you asked Loki. He was standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your midsection and his chin on your shoulder as he half-heartedly looked at your phone.

“Hmm. Sounds delicious darling. Shall we get started?” he whispered close to your ear, peppering kisses along your neck. You giggled and he held you tighter not wanting you to escape his grasp.

“Babe, you’re not even listening. I was talking about dinner.”

“Yes, I was listening, but I’m otherwise distracted by the delicious little morsel that’s in my arms at the moment.” He spun you around on the barstool, making you open your legs to him as he confidently put himself in between you.

He kissed you. Passionately and unabashedly. Moaning when your tongue invaded his. You stopped short of breath, making his mouth follow yours for another kiss.  

You put your fingers to his lips and said, “Love, it’s my night to cook. I promise if you’ll help me make dinner, I will do whatever you desire...later. I’ll even prop myself on a platter if you want.” You giggled as Loki’s eyes grew with mischief at the thought. A lascivious smile came forth from his lips.

“Would you like me to preheat the oven?” Loki asked enthusiastically.

“Yes, please,” you laughed. “Than…” you stopped what you were saying and stood straight up. Your phone falling onto the marble countertops. Your eyes started to glow, but not their usual silver blue. It was a golden yellow.

“Mayari, what’s wrong darling?” Loki asked alarmed. You started to giggle. A chuckle. Then you turned around and faced the elevator. The three members of the team just stepped off the lift. Along with their new consultant. His eyes were glowing a faint yellow just like yours.

“Mayari! Did you miss me?” The consultant held out his arms and you started to run towards him. A giggle bursting out from your lips.

Loki looked furious. Who does this bastard think he is? Loki reached out to you and was about to hold you back when you froze in the middle of your run. You started to tremble and shook your head as if you were shaking the spell away from your body. Your eyes returned to their dark brown since you have yet to meet the moon tonight.

“Dru! You promised you wouldn’t do that to me again!” You playfully punched his shoulder and then wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

“Sorry, love. Old habits die hard.” Druig picked you up and spun you around.

“Wh-what’s going on here?” Tony asked confused.

“I’d like to know the same.” Loki sneered.

Druig gave you a mano when he placed you back down, holding your hand up to his forehead. You reciprocated the gesture. After all, he is older than you, and an Eternal. A mutual sign of respect.

“What are you doing here?” You asked still in his arms.

“You’re friends here needed help with something. And when they mentioned they had a charmer on the team, I had to meet them naturally. I didn’t know it was a siren. A goddess, no less.”

“Ahem!” You heard Loki clear his throat next to you. You looked up and saw a very menacing stare. Not directed towards you, but towards the familiar embrace, you still seem to be in. Druig let go of you slowly, teasingly, with a smirk on his face.

“Druig. This is my fiancé, Loki.” You said as you stood next to Loki, embracing his arm. “Loki this is a long-time friend of mine, Druig.” Druig let out his hand. Loki shook his hand begrudgingly.

“Fiancé? So this is the lucky one, eh?” Druig said to you. “Congratulations. I believe I knew your father Loki.”

“Oh? Which one?” He said with that sneer still on his face.

“Both of them. My friends and I were present at the battle of Tønsberg.” Druig clarified.

“How are they? Do they still keep in touch? How’s Makkari?” You asked Druig enthusiastically.

“Come on. We’ll talk over dinner. I heard you say you were making lasagna. I can’t wait. I’ve always loved your cooking.”

Druig went to the conference room with some of the other members of the team to work on whatever they needed help with. You started to cook the lasagna and Loki stayed by your side as he prepped the salad and garlic bread. He didn’t ask you a single question about Druig, or your relationship with him. You appreciated that he didn’t dig, but you knew your fiancé too well to know that he won’t let this go.

You tried to take Loki’s attention off it because you knew that his mind was probably racing through different scenarios of your past and possible ways of torturing Druig later on.

So you decided to flirt with him. You started with soft touches to his arm. Letting your fingers trace up and down from his rolled sleeves, down to his long fingers. You called him your pet names when you needed something. “Can you get this for me love?” “How’s it going, my prince?” He would answer you sweetly, but absently, continuing to do the task at hand.

At one point, when he handed you a ladle for the sauce, you said, “Thank you, daddy.”

He froze. “Kitten, if you continue this little game you’re playing, you might not like the outcome.”

“Oh yeah, why is that?” You tested. He started to slowly walk towards you, pinning you against the counter.

“Because I have no problems taking you right here, right now. I will sit you on this counter and proceed to eat your delectable pussy until you beg for my cock. And do not doubt that I will make sure you scream my name so that everyone will know whom you belong to!” He whispered threateningly. His heated stare locked onto yours. You shivered at his words. Your lace panties instantly soaked. “Especially that smug bastard who thinks he can control you.”

“I knew it.” You said breathlessly.

“I mean who the fuck does he think he is?!” Loki snapped, throwing the towel that was over his shoulders down onto the countertops.

“Loki. He is only a friend.” You said as you took his arms and wrapped them around you. “He knows he can’t control me. So he tries, every time we see each other.”

“Tries?! How often do you see each other?”

“I don’t know. A few times. I mostly keep in touch with his other friends.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Noted.” You said. “He’s only here for a few weeks, then he’ll be gone.”

Loki growled. A few weeks is too long for him to be anywhere near you. He didn’t like Druig.

“You are the love of my eternal life. Don’t you trust me?” you asked him.

“I trust you explicitly, my dear. But if he can control you, who knows exactly what that bastard is capable of.”

“You! You control me. In all the good ways. You’re the only one who has that control over me.” You said flirtatiously. “Come. Let’s finish dinner so we can serve it. Then you can do exactly what you just said you would do.”

The team had gathered around the dinner table, welcoming Druig. Loki sat next to you and kept his hands on you the whole time. “So how do you two know each other?” Bucky asked, pointing to you and Druig.

“Love?” Druig looked at you smiling, asking you to tell the story. Loki’s lips curled up at his nickname for you.

“Druig and his friend Makkari came by our island when the Emergence came about. Sadly, I could not help them locate where the Emergence would take place.”

“You helped plenty, dear. You might not have known where he would come out, but we were able to hone in and gather good information. This one can be very persuasive.” Druig said winking at you but talking to everyone else. Loki’s grip on your thigh tightened. If he didn’t let go soon, you would have five small bruises wrapped around your thigh. You crossed your legs, freeing your thigh from Loki’s hard grasp. Loki looked at you disapprovingly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“That was actually a week before Tony and Bruce came to our home island and asked for help. So you can imagine the overwhelming feeling I had. We hadn’t had any new people come to the island in over a thousand years. Then in a span of a week, I met four new people and…” and fought my brother and lost my voice.

“Anyways…after I lost my voice, it was Makkari who taught me sign language and how to communicate.” You finished. Loki didn’t miss the small pause you had. He looked at you with worried eyes. He knew you still harbored resentment over your brother. That chapter in your book still waiting to be finished.

He wrapped his arms behind you, resting on your chair. His thumb calmingly grazes your shoulder as if to say, ‘I’m here. It’s ok.’

“So you guys went back to her home island after you stopped that giant hand from coming out of the Indian Ocean? We must’ve missed each other in passing,” Tony said.

The conversation simmered down to a low rumble in the back of your head as you relived the traumatic two weeks of your life.

The two weeks that altered and changed your life completely. You were so broken. So depressed at having been confined to the island and then to have the outside world barge into your life unexpectedly and without remorse. A small tear threatened to escape. Your feelings were overwhelming you and brimming to the surface.

You felt a cool touch on the back of your neck. Small, soft grazes steal your attention from your harmful spiral. You looked over to Loki who was already watching you with concerned eyes. You took a lungful of air in and slowly let it out. Loki smiled at you when you exhaled.

One, Two. In, and out.

But all those things had to happen. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t have met the love of your life. The wind to your waves. You would go through it all over again. The pain. The heartache. You would willingly lose your voice. You would wait another thousand years if it meant that Loki was waiting for you on the other side. Thank you, you mouthed to Loki.

“Always, and forever, my Sigyn,” he whispered back. Loki gave you a soft kiss on your forehead as he rubbed your arm up and down.

Druig watched the small interaction, drinking out of his bottle. A small smile creeping up his face.

⬅️Chapter 34: Mine | Chapter 36: Coming Soon➡️

Mayari Taglist: @user13cabs @alexs1200 @lokiprompts @huntress-artemiss @mischief2sarawr @a-witch-with-words @britishserpent @crimson25 @el-zef @ficitve-sl0th @gigglingtigger @goldencherriess @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kkdvkyya @lokiprompts21 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisninerealms @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @salempoe @theaudacitytowrite @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

[sukirichi]

Hi BUB CONGRATS ON 500! 💗 it’s okay if you don’t accept but ingredient 55 reincarnation au + sugar 7 forbidden relationship (or unrequited love?) for Sukuna 🥺 I basically just want a part 2 of Home from War 😫 A snack (drabble) is fine I’ll pick up any crumbs you leave me 🤧 Maybe Sukuna’s thought process after he finds out reader was telling the truth but it was too late, or his thought process when he sees her for the first time and she’s getting closer with Megumi. Oooorrr what happens after the ending of Home from War. If you don’t do continuations that’s alright thank you!

CHOU BUB THANKS SO MUCH 🥺💗💗 and here it is, the ending of home from war, the part two people have been asking for! it’s pretty angsty tho and i may or may not have been hurt while writing this, but i hope you like it anyway!

home from war: the ending | part one

how do you comfort your lover when he cannot find his way home back from the war?

meal order: 55 (reincarnation au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) no longer included + unrequited love + home from war inspired read here: home from war: the ending

song i listened to while writing: lay me down by sam smith (yes i was looking for PAIN)

warnings: murder, character death, angst, regrets, overall a big sad, unedited as always

The sky mourned your death; dark clouds forming overhead as Sukuna watched his servants pile dirt over your body. Your lifeless eyes stared back into nothingness, the gaping hole in your chest prominent. As his last bit of respect for his fallen comrade, he’d ordered his servants to dress you in the finest white robes to replace your bloodstained clothes.

His lover stood beside him; small hands clutched around his bicep while she weeped.

He couldn’t understand why she cried, why she grieved your death. Did his lover not care that this female curse had tried to kill her and their baby just moments ago, cruel and heartless as she was?

Of course she didn’t. His lover was kind, and he didn’t stop her as the feeble human fell down to her knees, fists bundled up around her robes until your body was completely buried underneath the underneath.

They stayed there for what seemed like an eternity until his lover had grown completely tired, body dehydrated from all the crying. She couldn’t cry anymore and her clothes were stained with dirt. Sukuna sighed, his gaze pointed away from the single lily flower that laid above your corpse, reaching over to his lover to pull her arm.

“My love,” he called out, “Come on. Let’s go home. It’s getting dark.”

“No, you don’t get it,” his lover pushed him away, eyes blurred with tears and lips terribly chapped. “She was your friend, Sukuna, you couldn’t kill her just like that!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. She tried to kill you and our baby!”

“Because the child is a monster!” his lover screamed back, pounding her small fists on his chest. It barely grazed him from his looming size, but something about the desperation in his lover’s voice had the words hitting straight through his heart, her gaze piercing. “Because it’s your child and you’re a monster – she was kind to you, she loved you and fought with you, you shouldn’t have killed—”

Sukuna’s arms withdrew his sword before he could realize what he was doing. The sounds of gurgling brought him back to reality, the curse stepping backward as his lover fell down on both knees, hands wrapped around her neck.

Blood dripped from the clean slice he’d made. She choked on her own blood, the liquid black and cursed – you were right. His lover did carry the curse of Death.

Sukuna stood frozen in his spot as his lover fell limp on the ground, the tips of her fingers pointed in your burial’s direction. The dark liquid oozed and poured out of her fragile body, the blood seeping into the ground until the lily turned black.

They all died. The Curse of Death had been exorcised before it fully formed, and he watched as the flower withered, crumpling down itself before the petals fell.

“Hey, Sukuna.”

“Hmm?” he looked up from cleaning his blade, scarlet eyes narrowed at the way you bounced from the corner. It was unusual for you to be this bubbly; not that he minded, though he’d never admit it out loud. Seeing you smile only happened once in a blue moon, thus catching the King of Curses off guard when your entire face lit up, eyes crinkled into half-moons at your enthusiasm.

Your laughter painted the walls of his dark, lonely temple a thousand colours. He barely got to move, much less respond, before you placed a flower crown on his head.

“Don’t you look charming.”

“Tch,” he held back a growl, the tips of his ears flushing red because how dare you defile him like this. The only reason he hadn’t killed you right there and then was because you were the so-called Queen of Curses, adorning your own handmade flower crown, only yours were a lot more colourful and his full of plain blue ones. It was his way of accepting you as his equal, though this didn’t dissipate the irritation that bloomed in his chest. “Get this vile thing off me.”

“It’s a crown I made for us, though,” you pouted, and you looked so terrifyingly adorable for a malicious and bloodthirsty Curse that even Sukuna was stunned. “See, we even match. It’s going to wither soon so let’s just enjoy it for now – while it’s still fresh and living.”

“Death means nothing to us,” he reminded you, “We don’t really die. We were never really living in the first place. Even if our bodies did decompose or wither, we’d still manifest into something else sooner or later.”

You smiled at his words, your cheek turned to him while you looked up at the bright sky. Just like your smiles and laughter, being able to see a clear sky with the blueness calming you both down was rare up far here from your temple. Due to both of your cursed presences looming over the mountain, the skies were always dark, terrifying, and cold.

But not today – not when you were basking in this thing you called “life” and Sukuna’s heart began to beat for the first time in a thousand years.

“I know it’s stupid of me to even think this is a life when I was never really alive in the first place,” you faced him again, the smile never leaving your lips. In that moment, the sun shone down on you, the colour of the flowers like a wonderful spectrum of nature’s wonder reflected back in your eyes. “But it changed when I met you. You’re right that we’re not really living, but you gave me a second chance at life, so I’ll be loyal to you. I’ll be by your side no matter what. Until I theoretically die, I choose to ‘live this life’ with you, Sukuna. I’ll always be here.”

Sukuna blinked back wordlessly, the grip on his sword faltering. He was at a loss of words, unable to process the meaning behind your words.

Understanding him better than anyone, sometimes even better than himself, you chuckled as you stood up, patting his shoulder in the process. “No need to say anything else, King. Those are just my thoughts. But I hope that if I don’t get to be with you in this life anymore, then let’s meet in the next.”

You sounded so sure back then that Sukuna had unknowingly kept your words in his heart as a vow, blindly searching for your soul – anything to have you back by his side again – because there were still some things he needed to say, some things he had to do, and all he ever wanted was to tell you that he understood your words now.

He too, found the meaning of life with you, although he realized it too late, and the realization drowned him when you were no longer there for him.

But he’ll find you – he’ll always find you.

After all, was it not your promise? Was it not your wish to meet him in the next life? When the war is over and the skies have cleared, when he could hear the steady stream of the river and the sounds of birds chirping along with your golden laughter that brightened up the darkness of his soul and his temple – would you still be able to comfort him once he’d come home from war?

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (1/3)

In which Jaskier chooses to lie, until he can no longer tell the truth.

(lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, geralt apologizes, post mountain, miscommunication, rated teen, read on AO3)

A big thanks to @wanderlust-t and @a-kind-of-merry-war for the prompt! <3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]

“You are gonna run after him again, just like that? Don’t you remember what he did to you? What you went through?”

Essi leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Jaskier packs a second bag.

“Come one, poppet. Geralt was having a hard time back then, and now he’s come all the way to Oxenfurt to apologize.

“So what?”

“So I’m forgiving him.”

She grumbles a few rude words regarding the witcher’s lineage.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“And this is way too easy! Why can’t you see a disaster waiting to happen until it hits you in the face?” Essi exclaims. “Do you know what I would have done? I would make him grovel! Give him the cold shoulder. Or…or at least play it cool for a while longer so he knows not to take you for granted again! Sorry, but I’m…not like you.”

“Um…excuse you. I am plenty cool!”

“There’s nothing cool about being utterly in love and then getting cast aside over and over again, Jaskier. You know that.”

Jaskier sighs, walks to Essi and pulls her into a tight hug, all his scattered doublets ignored.

“I’m going to be okay,” he tries to tuck her curls away from her eyes but fails.

“Are you?” When she pulls back, there’s something inscrutable in those blue eyes, the curtain of blonde hair obscuring her emotions. “When you came down from the mountain, the way you couldn’t even … I don’t know. I just need to make sure it won’t happen again.”

“It—” Jaskier opens his mouth to make an easy promise, but finds the words choking in his throat. “I, um—”

Essi squeezes him on the shoulder. “He’s apologized, profusely from what you told me, and he’s being nice now. He will certainly be nice for a while, but what happens after he wins you back? What’s preventing him from hurting you again?”

Jaskier has no answers for her, so he resorts to giving her another hug.

“At least, think about my cold shoulder tactic. Sometimes people need the reminder, just so they know what they can easily lose.”

“Essi—”

“Think about it.”

She presses a small kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and leaves him to his packing. Outside the window comes the familiar sound of Roache’s hooves, clicking against the cobblestone.

Jaskier straightens his tunic and lets out a heave. He can see Geralt is being good now, friendly even, after all these years of denying their friendship. Now, the witcher is even waiting downstairs to begin their next journey.

Essi is just being overly protective, Jaskier decides.

He winds down the stairs and finds Geralt cooing at Roach. The urge to melt in those golden amber eyes is overwhelming.

“We good?” Geralt takes Jaskier’s bags and secures them on Roach, side by side with his saddlebags.

“Good,” Jaskier lies.

 ---

The truth is, Jaskier has heard of this so-called “cold shoulder” tactic. He’s even contemplated it for longer than he’s willing to admit. Every time Geralt dismissed him as a friend, brushed him off, Jaskier couldn’t help but want to retaliate with equal measure.

What if he’s the one to give Geralt a time-out? What if when Geralt tells him to fuck off, he just…leaves? The same idea churned in Jaskier’s stomach for two decades, but in the end, he knows the answer—he can never bring himself to go through it. His feet would carry him back to Geralt before even taking a step away.

He was left anyway.

But now…

Jaskier can’t afford to be left again. Essi was right. He isn’t sure if he can pick himself up again. He barely managed it the first time.

Jaskier lets out an audible scoff as he comes to the realization. He’s going to do it. The cold shoulder tactic. It’s so cheesy that it feels like something only school girls would use to get attention from a crush. Keep your distance, string him along a little. That’s how you get him to notice you exist—

“Something funny?” Geralt turns on horseback, sunlight peaking through his silver hair, a curious frown between his brows. He’s towering, beautiful. He has always been the most beautiful person Jaskier knows, even if he doesn’t know it.

Jaskier strums an absent chord on his lute. “Just something Essi said.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nudges Roach forward. “I was thinking… You’ve never seen a basilisk, have you?”

“No?”

“There are rumors about a nest in the next town. Want to see it?”

A hint of smile hints at Geralt’s lips, and Jaskier’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. A basilisk hunt is one he’s been dying to watch for years, if not decades. He’s drooling with excitement just thinking about the ballad that will certainly sweep the continent off its feet.

“Of course I want—" The sentence stops in its tracks. Jaskier bites his tongue to hide the slip. “You know what, I think I’ll stay in town. This new song needs some polishing before its debut. I’m sure a big witcher such as yourself doesn’t need a bard’s moral support for a meager basilisk, right?”

Jaskier adds a wink for good measure, but Geralt is not amused. He’s staring from his vantage point, his expression inexplicable. Is it really so shocking that Jaskier will turn Geralt down this once, after all this time?

“I understand.” Geralt pauses before continuing, almost too carefully. “Perhaps I can help? Sing it for me tonight?”

“Sing it…for you?” Jaskier asks, dumbfounded. The lute in his hands suddenly feels a lot weightier than it is.

“You wanted my review for so long, Jaskier. I’m giving it to you now. I’m sure your playing will be…nice.”

Geralt looks at him with hope in his eyes, and Jaskier can’t help but let his ego grow a little. It’s unbelievable that a simple refusal is what got Geralt to finally say anything positive about his music. The tiny triumph fills his chest with unexpected giddiness.

“Maybe I will. We shall see,” he replies. His fingers strike another chord.

Jaskier feels a spring in his steps, urging him forward to the mare’s steady gait. Golden amber eyes are burning a hole into his back, but he doesn’t dare to look back lest the tiny bubble of this perfect moment break.

 ---

Night falls, and Jaskier scribbles down another line. The door opens and Geralt drags his feet into their shared room.

Jaskier makes no effort to get up.

Once upon a time, he would have raced across the room to greet Geralt, checked for injuries and fussed over any scrapes and cuts, all the while getting dismissed with the witcher’s grumbled words. He’d help remove those heavy armors when Geralt’s muscles ache from exhaustion and get ichor all over himself.

He will not do that tonight.

Play it cool, Essi’s words echo in his memory. Right, he’s doing things differently now.

Jaskier fixes his gaze on the notebook in his lap and listens as Geralt shuffles around the room, putting everything back in place. One by one, his armor pieces drop in the corner of the room.

“How was it?” he asks with the most nonchalant tone as if he’s just noticed the other man’s existence.

“Fine. The basilisk’s dead.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier chooses the single hum uncharacteristically as Geralt puts his swords against the doorframe and sits down on the single chair.

He’s so still, hovering even.

“What?” Jaskier finally looks at him. Geralt, as he claimed, looks fine, with only a smudge of a black ichor sticking to his hair. A frown appears between his brows.

Adorable.

Jaskier shakes the thought quickly.

“Your new song?” Geralt prompts.

“Oh yeah. Never mind. I don’t feel like singing.”

It’s another lie. A necessary one, Jaskier tells himself.

“You,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow, “don’t feel like singing?”

Jaskier clutches the notebook to his chest almost defensively, not sure what to do with the accusation. Is it a tragedy that Geralt knows him like the back of his hand? Or is it a shame that Jaskier is indeed buzzing with excitement to test out this song, with the most important person in his life?

“Well, I don’t.”

Jaskier keeps his chin up and scrambles off the bed to put away his books and pens. Geralt’s intent gaze is on his back again.

“Twenty years, and I’ve never known you to turn down an opportunity to sing.”

“I guess you don’t know me that well,” Jaskier bites back with a force that seems to come out of nowhere. “The bard may not want to entertain all the time, darling.”

The endearment sounds false, more like a jab. He lets out a dry chuckle and hopes to ease the tension but to no avail. Geralt’s eyes are wide with surprise. So Jaskier reaches for his bedroll as a distraction, but only serves to make the confusion deepen on Geralt’s face.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier lays it by the fire, on the soft rug that magically seems clean enough. It should be self-explanatory, but apparently not because Geralt is still staring quizzically.

“Sleeping.”

Geralt looks at the double bed and then back at Jaskier. “On the floor?”

“Thought I’d give you the space. I know how keyed up you are after the potions.”

Jaskier can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing as more words he doesn’t mean comes out of his mouth. He crosses his legs on the bedroll and pulls the blanket onto his lap to hide from Geralt’s scrutiny. But then, something dawns on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier…” Geralt rubs his forehead, his face pinched. “What I said in Oxenfurt, I meant it.”

“You do?”

“You can count on me now. It won’t be like…before.”

Their gazes meet, and Jaskier bears the intensity of it with everything he has. He feels bare, seen through by the amber gold he’s missed and cursed and loved so much.

“I’m here, and I’m all here, Jaskier. Please believe in me.”

“I do.”

It’s not the truth despite how much he wants to believe it. Jaskier wonders if lying to Geralt ever becomes easier.

He doesn’t know what is not convincing him. Geralt looks so genuine, and Jaskier wants more than anything to trust him again, but the smile on his face feels too stiff.

The plan is going as Jaskier wanted. He’s showing Geralt that his friendship doesn’t come freely anymore, and the witcher needs to make more effort, meet him halfway, somehow. Then how come as the quiet night creeps in, Jaskier only finds a hollow space in his chest?

The roaring fire in the hearth warms his back, but Jaskier clutches his blanket tighter. It can’t stave off the coldness left by the lack of a witcher’s body by his side.

 ---

Jaskier continues with the same scheme the next day.

Ignoring Geralt is not a difficult task in the beginning. The barmaid is a beautiful thing, doe-eyed and curious, has too many questions for her own good. She keeps asking about Jaskier’s ballads, and wouldn’t quite believe any crazy stories in them.

“Is it true that the White Wolf fought a sea serpent on the Skellige Isles? Surely, those creatures only exist in legends!”

She’s getting familiar, pressed up against Jaskier on the bench, almost pushing him back into Geralt’s side—the real subject of the topic, but it’s obvious her fascination lies only in Jaskier. Her brown eyes stay on the bard alone.

“Why don’t we find somewhere more private and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Is it a good one? It must be a heroic tale, isn’t it?”

“Heroic, of course. There’s also a twist. I won’t spoil it for you, but—” Jaskier winks, his fingers brushing past her wrist. “—it’s a love story that holds more heartbreak than you can bear.”

Her giggles are like soft wind chimes, and Jaskier guides her away from their table. He takes two steps and turns back, smacking himself on the head as if he’s only just thought of it.

“Oh, shoot! I know I promised to go the market with you, Geralt, but you see…” He gestures to the girl waiting expectantly in the near distance. There’s nothing I can do about it, he says with a shrug. “Have a good time, will you?”

Geralt is holding his tankard, his knuckles white and his face ice-cold. It’s like Jaskier is looking at one of those ice sculptures made by Oxenfurt’s art students every winter.

“You said you’d come.”

Geralt’s voice is so gentle, so full of dejection that Jaskier’s resolve almost breaks. He clears his throat and darts his eyes elsewhere. Those acting coaches back in school would have been disappointed in him for letting his emotions peak through, but Geralt doesn’t seem to notice what’s underneath this front.

“Surely you can find a new bridle for Roach by yourself,” Jaskier waves his hand in dismissal. “You are a big witcher.”

Geralt opens his mouth and closes it, before speaking again. “And the pastry shop you wanted to visit?”

Jaskier thinks of the lemon cakes he’s been itching to try and swallows the yearning in his throat. Gods, being with Geralt all day with not a care in the world, and with the best sweets on the continent. What is he doing turning all this down?

“Well,” he insists, “Better company comes before cake, my dear.”

With that, Geralt lets go of the topic. His amber eyes drop back to the half-finished ale. “Better company. I see…”

“Surely you understand, Geralt.”

“Just—” Geralt purses his lips in an attempt at a smile. “Don’t exaggerate too much.”

Jaskier should feel bad as he walks out the tavern door with a beauty on his arm, he should, but instead, a pang of anger rises in his throat. How many times did Geralt abandon him at the sight of Yennefer in the past few years? How long did he brood on top of that mountain, recounting every bad choice he’d made in his life and decided that it was all Jaskier’s doing?

For once, Jaskier doesn’t want to put Geralt first in everything, waiting for a bone thrown in his direction, and the witcher—this infuriating man—is going to act like a kicked puppy.

Horrified at this burning rage, Jaskier turns only to watch helplessly as Geralt walks down the street in the opposite direction. He’s planted to the spot, unable to chase Geralt down, and clueless as to whether this plan is doing him any favors other than the fleeting satisfaction of getting back at his friend who was at fault.

Was.

Geralt was at fault. Jaskier has forgiven him, or at least, that’s what he said at first sight of his witcher’s travel-weary face back in Oxenfurt.

And yet, he’s punishing him still.

The barmaid is still waiting for Jaskier’s stories, her cheeks still round with a timid blush and her eyes gleaming with expectations.

The colorful adventures taste stale on his tongue and she loses interest too quickly before returning to her post. His mood sours further as the day stretches on.

Jaskier ends up wandering around town without an aim in mind. The only place he’s carefully avoiding is the market, and the stable, and the smith’s shop. Anywhere he might bump into Geralt. When night draws in, a sudden downpour catches him off guard and drenches him from inside out.

Great. Just the perfect ending to the worst—well, the second worst day of Jaskier’s life.

Candles are still lit as Jaskier enters the room. He finds Geralt fast asleep already, and on the table, right next to his writing supplies, is a lemon cake.

It’s drizzled in honey and looks just as enticing as he imagined.

Jaskier picks it up and finds a lump forming in his throat, choking him with guilt. He wants to scream, to let out the frustration at all the mistakes made in the past and haunting him still. He wants to cry. It’s just…

Now, he doesn’t know if he still deserves to.

---

Okay, I know I'm being mean to Geralt here, but don't worry, I’ gonna be mean to Jaskier in the next one ;) 

Also, whatever Jaskier is doing here is very unhealthy. Don't try this at home.

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[bluebird-imagines]

Hi :) can you do all the members(separately off) with a s/o who doesn’t really like their music?

[I can for sure give it a shot! This is my first ask so i do hope you enjoy it ^_^. Also I apologize for taking so long, my second vaccine shot kicked my butt]

Prompted: S/O who doesn’t like Gorillaz Music

Trigger Warnings: I can’t think of any for this one. Maybe I should state my horrible 2D accent! I apologize in advance. Of and I bring up the s*x, m*rder, party song. But all and all I don’t think there is anything else. Anyway enjoy!

~Murdoc Niccals ~

Let’s start this off with, at first he doesn’t even realize that you don’t like the Gorillaz music. He never even pieces two and two together. Why might you ask? Well for the first while you tolerated it for the Bass players sake.

After a few months, you decided it would be best to maybe leave Kong whenever the band you as practicing or rehearsing. You did a lot of stuff in this time. Coffee, read some good books, even went bowling on your own a few times. It was just nice to get away from that horrid music.

You didn’t have anything against the band members themselves! All of them were nice, it just you found the songs to be tedious and annoying.

When Murdoc finally started to take notice, he would ask you why you would avoid the band. Not seeming to understand the distaste of their masterpieces.

You lied most of the time, saying something stupid like “oh I am meeting up with friends” or “oh I would just be in the way”.

After a few more months, Murdoc finally forced you to sit and listen to their newest album. Mainly wanting to get your take on it before the official release.

You didn’t even get halfway through the first song before standing up and tuned off the player. You honestly felt like your ears would jump off your head if you ever heard that again.

“What the Bloody hell was that for?! We have like 43 more minutes to go”

“Murdoc, I don’t know how to tell you this. But babe…your music is a flaming hot dumpster fire and I don’t like it”

“……what? Why the hell are you with me then if you don’t like our music?”

“Because I may have underlining daddy issues according to the internet, but in reality I really love you Mudz…for you!”

“So playing bass isn’t sexy….underlining what? No wait getting away from the real point here. You never heard if Feel Good inc.? Or you know Clint Eastwood?Those were some of our best songs! What about To Binge? Empire ants? Any of them.

“Hmm, Feel Good inc? Let’s see it’s repeats itself a lot. Clint Eastwood? Haha other then the opening your song had nothing to do with Clint Eastwood. You posted To Binge aka forced 2D to sing it. Empire Ants? It just sucks”

“You suck! Are music is an art! It’s great! you are the problem here.”

“Never said I was! Your music is an art and it makes a lot of people happy. But to me, my ears did like it…but I can say this, I do like you a lot Murdoc.”

“ I am pretty great! Fine no more of our music…around your at least. But maybe sometimes”

“I can handle sometimes”.

~Noodle~

Noodle would completely understand your distaste for their music. She understands that not anyone is up for what they produce and she thinks that is okay!

For her as long as you don’t listen to any overly annoying songs around her. She really doesn’t care what you listen to.

She does however like to get your input on songs, even if you don’t like them. She just likes hearing different peoples ideas.

But with that being said, there is a 100% chance that she may try to convert you into liking Gorillaz. Of course, just simply by showing you different songs they have done. Like Punk or Humility, Feel Good inc. or El Mañana. Hell she has even shown you Latin Simone.

When she realized she was doing this, she quickly backed off and apologized.

“Sorry (Y/n). I didn’t mean to do that…I just kind of got excited and thought you would like the different genres we have done.”

“It’s okay Noodle, you realized your mistake! Honestly it’s not that the songs themselves aren’t inherently bad…it’s just well Murdoc’s bass playing is well…pretty bad in my opinion”

“Oh? How so if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well to me it sounds like well, a crusty old man who doesn’t know how to cut his nails and proceeds to scratch the surface of everything he touches. Also while we are at it 2D’s singing is really hard to understand!”

“Well Murdoc does forget to clip his nails from time to time and he doesn’t seem to like using a pick for his bass. But now you confused me with 2D”

“Listen I love you all! Especially you Noodle, but ooo boy, if you guys weren’t careful in sex murder party…it kind of sounds like 2D is singing dissolve the kids…which isn’t a pleasant image”

“Ah, I see what you mean, anything else?”

“Nope! Your guitar playing is wonderful! Love everything about you! Just your band is a bit much at times haha”

~Russel Hobbs~

Much like Noodle Russel would understand that their music wasn’t for everyone. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion. For example he was really into rap and it took a while for him to talk the whole band into listening to it.

Regardless unlike Noodle or Murdoc he wouldn’t make you listen to a single song of theirs if you didn’t want to.

Of course you would every now and then for their demo’s you just wouldn’t voice your opinion on it, since you couldn’t stand it.

Russel would also try his best to get into music that you like! Of course, if he doesn’t like one of the songs you like, you make a mutual agreement to not play it around him.

He even at one point turned it into a game that he really enjoyed playing with you! It was a game that helped the both of you set up playlists!

He would pick one of his favourite songs, if you thought it was okay, it went into the playlist. If he liked one of the songs you picked into the playlist!

“Okay how about, this song?”

“Let it go…from frozen? Really, we ain’t putting that in the playlist”

“Yeah you are right it was a stupid idea, it’s just been stuck in my head.”

“Haha fair enough, how about Rainforest by Noname?”

“Hmm, that’s actually not a bad one! We can throw it in! Alright space jam?”

“What is with you in movie songs tonight? Yeah we can throw in space jam”

“Sweet!”

“I can’t believe space jam beats our music out in that mind of yours…”

~Stuart “2D” Pots~

At first, 2D can not wrap his mind around the fact that you hate their music. More so he has never really had someone be with him for well just him before. Most of the one nightstands he had in the past was because of his popular singer status.

He does try his very best to get you into their music, of course, walking the fine line between shoving it down your throat and giving you air to breath with your own tunes.

That being said though, he doesn’t overly mind the fact that you like your own selection of music. He does find some of your songs enjoyable.

When he realizes most of the bands travel playlist consisted of a few of the bands own songs. He secretly takes the phone and changes up the playlist. He removes the Gorillaz songs and replaces them with songs you like.

Although you don’t like the bands music, that never truly stopped you from liking 2D’s singing. When he found that out he made a special song just for you. One where it was only on his keyboard and singing. He keeps it hidden so Murdoc doesn’t find it.

“(Y/n) I made yew something!”

“Oh sweet Satan please don’t tell me it was breakfast and that you burnt down the kitchen again!”

“What no! Besides that was a one time fing and I got a four month ban from going in fere fanks to Russel”

“Sorry…shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. What did you make 2D? You seemed really proud.”

“Oh well Um…I know yew don’t like our music and all…but I uh, I made yew a song, do ya want to ‘ere it?”

“Of course 2D, just because I don’t like your music, doesn’t mean I can’t be supportive of you”

“Well, this song isn’ really goin’ to be on an album, because I made it for yew”

“Aww 2D you didn’t have to~”

“But I wanted too!”

After he plays the song, you state that you adore it! This puts a huge smile on his face!

[starshipsofstarlord]

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

[make-me-imagine]

Scenario Prompts: 5/29 A; Tony Stark compliments you all the time because he has a crush on you. 

Requested by: @spuffyfan394​​​​

Pairing: Tony Stark x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: None         Words: 1,966

Everything taglist: @criminaly-supernatural​​, @caswinchester2000​​ Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​, @trashywritestrash​, @groovyfluxie​, @marvelouslyme96​, @supersourlemon13​, @mochamoff​, @simsiddy​

Notes: It’s kind of a mixture of flirting and compliments. Also; I use the song reference to ‘The Fantasticks’ because in Civil War when you see Tony’s mom in his memory, she is singing a song from it.  Also, I’m having a bit of writers block, so I can’t tell if this is really that good. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When you were recruited to join the Avengers you knew it would be both exciting and dangerous, but you had still underestimated how quickly things would get out of hand on the simplest of missions.

“You just had to egg him on didn’t you?!” you yelled as you and Steve ran for cover “We could have easily taken him but noooo, you just had to make him mad.”

“We needed him to reveal his plan, it’s not my fault I had no idea he had a weapon like that!” Steve yelled back just as a huge wave of energy smacked against the back of you, the man firing off the huge sonic weapon he unveiled.

As you grunted in pain, rolling to a stop, Steve grabbed your arm as you stumbled behind a wall, catching your breath and wincing from the pain.

“That didn’t look very fun” you heard a familiar voice through your coms as you looked up, seeing Tony and Rhodey coming in their suits.

“Took you long enough, where had you guys been?” Steve asked.

“Just went out for coffee, you guy’s didn’t want anything did you?” Tony quipped as he and Rhodey began firing at the sonic weapon, successfully stopping it from firing.

As they were doing so, you spotted another man coming out from a nearby building, pointing a weapon at Tony’s back. Quickly reacting, you grabbed Steve’s shield before jumping behind Tony. Tony spun around just as the man fired. He had a smaller sonic weapon that he fired at you. Hitting the shield it launched you back, Tony reached out and grabbed you, supporting you as you held up the shield, that was now reflecting the sonic beam.

Steve, when seeing what happened, quickly reacted by running quickly to the man and taking him out. You let down your arms in relief once he did, your arms feeling heavy from the weight of holding up the shield.

“Nice one newbie” Tony said as his helmet retracted revealing his face and the small present on it.

You sighed as you looked up at him “I’ll take that coffee now.” You joked, making him chuckle.

“Maybe I’ll get you one when we get back.” He said as he placed his hand on your upper back as he turned to Steve who was approaching. Handing back his shield Steve nodded his head at you as Tony spoke “You better be careful Cap, Y/n looked like a natural with that thing, if you’re not careful they’ll steal your job.” He turned as he began to leave “God knows they’d look better in the suit.” he finished with before he began to fly off with Rhodey further into the compound.

You and Steve looked at each other with similar eye rolls before you began to make your way through the compound to find the rest of the men you were after.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hummed quietly to yourself as you tapped your leg, reading over the file Fury had given you about a possible harmful organization you’d be checking out. Engrossed in your thoughts and the document you didn’t see Tony come in the room.

He leaned against the counter as he watched you for a moment, listening to the song you were humming to yourself. He felt a wave of nostalgia and melancholy as you continued to hum the tune, beginning to mumble quietly to yourself as you sang the lyrics. 

“For I can see it, shining somewhere. Bright light’s somewhere invite me to compare-”

You cut yourself off as you flipped the page of the document you had as you continued to read. 

“My mother loved that show.” Tony finally said, making your head shoot up as you looked at him surprised. 

“Oh, Tony I didn’t hear you come in- Wait, you’re mother?” 

He nodded as he walked towards you “She used to play the piano and sing songs from it all the time.” His thought went back to the last day he saw her and his father.

You smiled lightly at him “My father used to play the songs when he was working.” You replied making him smile. 

“They had similar taste then.” Tony said before taking the file from your hands, “You’ve got a good voice you know.” 

He said simply making you chuckle “You wouldn’t say that if you actually heard me try.”

Tony smiled at you as he handed the file back “I think I would.” He commented before turning away “We’ll be leaving in a few hours, so read up.” 

You watched as he left the room, wondering why he says the things he does. He switched from flirty to nice so often it gave you whiplash. You smiled to yourself as you shook your head, reading over the files once again. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You sighed to yourself as you looked around the crowded room as people drank and laughed. Tony was holding another party and the Avengers were more or less required to show up, at least for a little while. So you did your duty, dressed up nice and made an appearance. Though you had no real intention of staying all night. 

“Nice outfit.” You heard a voice comment from behind. 

Turning you see Tony, wearing a black silk suit and a smile. “You too” you said in reply as he came and stood right next to you, looking into the crowd of people. 

“I didn’t think this was your kind of thing.” 

You shrugged “It can be, sometimes. Doing it right after a mission that involved being shot at and attacked for four hours straight isn’t exactly ideal though.” 

He cocked his head and smiled “Well, I wouldn’t have held it against you if you didn’t show. But I’m glad you did. I got to see you all dressed up.” He looked at you with a flirty smirk. 

You met his eyes for a minute before smiling “Hmm” you hummed out before turning and walking into the crowd, leaving Tony to watch you with a mild look of confusion. 

You hated that Tony’s flirtatious comments were getting to you. Not because it was annoying you, but because he flirted with everyone, which meant that most likely there wasn’t any genuine feelings behind them. And that was why they irritated you, because you wanted there to be something, anything behind his words. You had developed feelings for the rich playboy superhero, and you hated that his feelings could be one-sided. Part of you told you he did have feelings for you, but you couldn’t assume, you wouldn’t. 

These thoughts drifted to the back of your mind as the night went on, distracted by the other Avengers and visitors you met with throughout the night. 

As you watched small groups of people make their way to the dance floor, as the band began to play slower music, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking back, your eyes met those of a man named Thomas. A shield agent you had met a few times. Annoying, rude and thinks to highly of himself. 

You put on a fake smile in greeting as he grinned at you “Y/n, I’m glad I finally got to catch you. I was wondering if you might dance with me.” 

As you opened your mouth to speak, wracking your brain for an excuse, you were cut off as someone appeared by your side, somewhat cutting you off from Thomas. 

“Hey there, sorry to interrupt there Tyler, but I’ve already got dibs on this dance.” Tony said as his hands lightly gripped your arms, pushing you towards the dance-floor. 

“Uh, it’s Thomas sir- I”

“Oh, yeah sorry about that Tommy.” He replied quickly as he pulled you into the crowd. 

As he pulled you closer to him and began leading in the dance you shook your head and chuckled “You’ve already got dibs on this dance?” 

Tony shrugged his head “Oh, what you mean you didn’t know? You’re welcome by the way.” He said with a smile. 

You chuckled lightly as you began dancing smoothly to the music, Tony’s hand rested lightly on your waist “I had a question.”

“Shoot” you replied. 

“Did I offend you earlier. You walked off with an air of ‘shut up Tony’.” He asked while meeting your eyes. 

You smiled lightly, you guess now was a better time than any to talk about it “I can only take so much of your empty flirting Tony. You should save it for the people who beg you for your attention.” You said while glancing at a group of people eyeing the two of you, mostly with indignation.

You saw an unusual emotion pass over Tony’s face before he leaned a little closer to you “Who said it’s empty flirting?”

“Isn’t it?” You asked curiously “You flirt with everyone that has a pulse and a pretty face.” 

He scoffed “Oh come on, that’s keeping up appearances.” He said with mild offense before meeting your eyes “None of the flirting or complements I have said to you are empty.” 

You stared at him for a moment, reading him. “Then why do you do it?”

A small smile crossed his face “Isn’t it obvious by now?” 

“Work with me on this one.” You challenged, wanting him to say it. You needed to hear it. 

Your dance slowed to a near stop as his gaze into your eyes grew in intensity. Leaning forward, he brought his lips close to your ear “I flirt with you because I like you, not platonically, not in a shallow on the surface way that everyone expects of me.” He leaned back, meeting your eyes, his face close to yours “I like you. A hell of a lot more than I’ve ever liked anyone else. And honestly, it scares the shit out of me. Because I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and it’s true, I flirt because it’s what I’m good at. I don’t know how to express myself any other way.”

Your heart began to beat heavier in your chest as he spoke, his eyes and voice telling you it wasn’t a joke and that he was telling the truth. You smiled at him, and saw him relax slightly as you did so. “And here I thought you’d never admit it.” you said quietly. 

A smile broke out on his face as he tightened his grip around you, beginning to dance with you again. “Well, believe it or not, I’m not as confident as everyone thinks I am.” 

“That’s alright, I don’t mind. I like that side of you.” You said with a smile. 

Tony stood still suddenly, bringing you to a stop again as you looked at him curiously. Bringing his hand up be brushed his hand across the side of your face for a moment “I’m glad, you’re one of the few who’s seen it, and one of the few who I’d like to know about it, so maybe-”

“Keep it a secret?” you asked with an air of amusement.

“You understand me so well.” He quipped as he stared back into your eyes, his eyes flicking to your lips, an action you did not miss. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he quickly changed the subject. 

“Nothing, it’s my day off.” 

“Good, go out with me.”

“Where?” 

“Haven’t decided yet but it’ll be fun.” 

“Not another party though right?” 

“No, just the two of us.”

“A date then?” You asked with a smile, which he mirrored. 

“Exactly.” 

“Sounds like a somewhat thought out plan to me, I’ll be there.” 

You shared an amused smile as you continued to dance to the music, completely ignoring your surrounding as you finally aired out your feelings for one another. 

xx

I’m bad a endings lol

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[nessinborderland]

Between Apple Pies and Chocolate Cosmos (01)

Pairing: Aguni x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Character Study

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse. After that, he simply couldn't take you out of his mind.

Warnings: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Eventual Romance, Denial of Feelings, Slow Burn, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Notes: This was inspired by the wonderful @aghostsrantingcorner ask. For reference, there’s some things in this fic that were inspired by these posts by @hatterstan-shameblog​. This will be 2-3 parts max. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse.

It was a rainy morning, and the Beach was as silent as you would expect after a night of deadly games and partying. He always took advantage of the silent mornings to have a walk around the place, breathe some fresh air, and – most importantly – attend to his garden.

He had started working on it soon after he and Takeru found the Beach, still in the early days when it was only them. He never saw a reason why he shouldn’t. Since he was stuck there for an indefinite amount of time – since he would probably die there – he might as well keep up with the only hobby that brought him some resemblance of peace.

So, he did it. Every single morning. It kept him grounded; reminded him of who he was.

His Eden – as he liked to think about it – was a medium-sized glasshouse near the kitchens, surrounded by land where he had replanted a variety of fruit trees and berry bushes that he had found around Tokyo. It needed some remodeling, but it was perfect as soon as he was done fixing the broken glass and built a system to expertly use the rainwater. He loved the place. Its variety of colors and smells, the silence, and – what made him the happiest – being able to watch the literal fruit of his labor grow.

It was his little piece of heaven in the hell he was trapped in.

Now, one thing about the greenhouse: no one was allowed inside the place beside him. Everybody knew it. It was not like anyone had any real interest in plants or vegetables but, still, people knew that that was his place. Even the old ladies responsible for the meals knew to not go inside; if they needed any ingredient, they asked him.

So imagine his surprise when he got closer to the glass walls of his greenhouse and heard soft singing coming from inside. It was barely audible, the tip-tap from the rain hitting the glass making it harder for him to understand any words. But he knew someone was in there.

His first thought was to barge in and kick out whoever was disrupting his garden. He could feel his anger grow as he stared at the blurred figure on the other side of the glass, messing around with his stuff. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside. 

The air inside the greenhouse was warm, with light condensation already sliding down the glass walls. The intruder – a woman, he noticed – was with her back turned to him, humming a song that was more than familiar due to Takeru’s taste in music.

“... lay all your love on– ” you gasped as you turned to him, no doubt startled by his presence. The vase in your hands shattered as it hit the floor with a loud smash, and you let out another startled sound. You crouched to clean up the mess, a row of apologies already escaping from your lips. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, please don’t move while I–”

“You shouldn’t be here,” was all he said as he stood there, stoic and cold expression looking at you from above. Your face was vaguely familiar to him – like every other face at the Beach – but he knew nothing about you. He noticed when you froze and slowly looked up, locking eyes with him. He saw the exact moment you recognized him, eyes growing wide and mouth agape as you held broken pieces of clay in your hands.

“Aguni–”

“Clean up your mess and leave,” he mumbled as he walked past you to access the damage you had done to his greenhouse. He noticed how several of his previous empty vases were now occupied by small plants and flowers that he had meant to work on that morning. You had just done his work for him. And perfectly, he could tell. Or as perfect as he could expect from someone that wasn’t him. He felt his anger subside. “The chamomile is supposed to be planted next to the tomatoes,” he said as he started carefully removing the small flowers from the vases. “We have no need for tea here.”

“Hmm...I thought you were using those for medicinal purposes?” you hesitantly asked. He kept his back to you, focusing on the task at hand as he waited for you to leave. Leave, however, you did not. "I'm sure they could be useful if–"

"There are only two kinds of people here," he interrupted in a cold tone. "The living and healthy, and the dead. If you're wounded, you belong to the latter. The tomatoes, though, could use some–"

"But couldn't we start an infirmary here?" Your question made him stop what he was doing, and he raised a brow as he looked at you over his shoulder. No one interrupted him; ever. You clearly didn't notice his hard stare as you continued to talk, "We could use garlic and oregano oil for infections, and aloe vera for–"

"You shouldn't be here," he repeated, now in a tone slightly louder than he liked to use. You halted mid-sentence, the small smile on your lips changing into a frown. "I'm not repeating myself. This greenhouse is off-limits. Leave." 

He gave you one last glance before focusing again on his task, listening as you gathered the broken vase. A whimper made him look back at you, watching as you stared at your bleeding finger, droplets of blood falling on the rich soil underneath you. He sighed before grabbing a roll of paper towels from a shelf above his head, turning to hand you one.

"Thank you," you said in a low tone as you accepted the help and involved the tissue around your finger, hissing from the pain.

Only then did he notice what that broken vase had been carrying. At your feet, in the middle of a small mountain of dirt, was a chocolate cosmos. It wasn't one of his flowers, he was sure of that. He had never even seen a live specimen before.

"Weren't those extinct?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widen at his question before you looked at him with a soft smile on your lips. He felt the tips of his ears get warm; why in the hell were you smiling at him?

"Mhm, I think so... You can still find them in captivity, though," you said as you gently picked up the reddish-brown flower. You looked at him for a moment before nodding to the table behind him. "Could I get another vase, please? It's just that she's been staying in a box since I got her and I just wanted to– oh, thanks!"

You smiled at him again as he handed you another small vase without a word. Aguni averted his eyes, focusing on your hands as you arranged the pretty flower in its new home. He felt... uneasy, is the word. His usual relaxing morning had been ruined by some random woman with a nice smile.

He didn't like that one bit.

"Well... I'm gonna go now," you awkwardly started as you made your way to the door, before stopping and turning around as if you forgot something. "Oh, by the way, did you...did you do all this?" you asked, gesticulating around you. He nodded once and you smiled again. "It's beautiful. Good job."

With those words, you finally left him alone. 

Aguni was sure he wasn't just blushing in his ears now. His whole face was warm. He never had anyone compliment him on his gardening skills before. Yeah, Takeru told him several times he was good at it, but no one had actually shown interest. It made him feel some kind of way.

He shook his head and got back to his work. He could still enjoy his quiet morning before a council meeting if he was fast enough.

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

The sun had barely risen when he approached the greenhouse, a warm cup of coffee in hand while he whistled a tune that had been stuck in his head since he woke up. He hadn't even noticed you until he went to open the door, your voice making him jump slightly where he stood.

"You like ABBA too?" you asked from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder to stare at you. You were sitting under a tree not far away, that same nice smile on your face. You were holding something in your hands – something that he noticed was hot – as steam was visible in the chill morning air.

He felt his ears get warm again; damnit, he hadn't even realized that the tune he was whistling was the same song he had caught you singing the day before. He took a deep breath and shook his head. 

You both stood there, clearly waiting for the other to speak first. He was never a man of many words, though, so he just nodded once in your direction before getting inside his greenhouse and closing the door behind him.

A knock on the door not long after made him roll his eyes. He walked away from his work table with a sigh, cursing at his lack of peace and quiet; all the man wanted was to drink his morning coffee in solitude.

"What?" he asked as he opened the door to find you there, holding something wrapped in paper in his direction. He had noticed the steaming thing earlier. "What's that?"

"I wanted to thank you," you said, almost stumbling over your words as you signaled him to take it from you. "It's a pie."

"A pie?" he asked slowly, raising a brow in distrust.

"Yes, apple pie," you sent him a small smile as you tried to get him to accept the baked good. When he just stood there, arms crossed, your smile fell. He almost, almost, made a move to grab your offer then. "Hmm, Mrs. Yamamoto from the kitchen lets me use ingredients sometimes to bake stuff, and as long as I clean everything after–"

"I don't eat breakfast," he interrupted, arms still crossed as he looked you up and down with furrowed brows. He was trying to understand your intentions towards him. What was your move here?

"Oh, but you should, you know?" you said in a raised tone. "It's the most important meal of the day! A-and this one was made with your apples, so I thought you would–"

"What do you want from me?"

Even though Aguni was a man of few words, he never had any problem being direct. When you just looked at him with big, confused eyes, he was even more weirded out by your manners. You were either being genuine or were a really good actress. He didn't know what made him more uncomfortable.

"I just want to... to thank you for the vase?" you hesitantly answered, arms lowering.

His hand snapped towards your arm before he even realized, suddenly aware that he did want that pie. However, a pained gasp made him release you immediately upon touching you over your jacket. 

"Are you hurt?" he asked, secretly hoping he hadn't actually hurt you.

"I- I'm fine," you answered with a shake of your head. "It was just a small injury from yesterday's game."

"Let me see," he ordered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, and it almost made him backtrack and send you away. Why should he care if you were hurt?

Aguni was about to do exactly that when you gingerly extended your arm in his direction. He focused on your arm as his fingers lightly grabbed your wrist, pulling your sleeve up to show a burn mark roughly the size of your palm. It didn't look too bad, but he could see that you hadn't put anything on it.

"Come," he said as he gestured at you to follow him inside the greenhouse.

He worked fast as he prepared something that would help you with your burn. He didn't know much about medicinal plants, but he knew enough.

He gestured at you to sit on the table as he carefully applied a mix of aloe vera and oats to your injury with light feather-like touches. It was all done in silence until he heard a noise from you, something resembling a barely huffed laugh. He glanced up to notice you looking straight at him, that same damned smile on your lips. He quickly focused back on the injury, hoping you wouldn't notice his red ears.

"I thought I was part of the dead now," you said, clearly referencing what he had said the day before. He grunted with a shrug, now at all interested in talking about his change of ideals. "You know...I never thought you were the type," you kept talking, and he kept addressing your injury. "To like plants, I mean. This place is amazing." 

"What type am I, then?" he caught himself asking. Not that he particularly cared about your answer, but curiosity got the best of him. You laughed at his words and shrugged.

"Hmm, I don't know... the type that punches tigers?" He had to control the will to smile then, hiding his face from view. "I really wasn't expecting tall, big, and stoic Aguni to be so good with plants. I'm pleasantly surprised."

His movements halted for a second as he processed your words. He was sure he was red all over his face now, damn you. He continued what he was doing before he could overthink your words too much.

"Never judge a book by its cover."

He cringed as soon as those words left his mouth. What a corny thing to say. He decided then that your burn was sufficiently covered in aloe, and immediately retracted his hands, turning his back to you as he cleaned his fingers and tried to get his blush under control.

"Hmm, I guess you're right…" you said as he heard you stand up. "Well, thank you again, for this." He nodded and grunted in acknowledgment without turning to face you. "And the pie is here, just in case you want to try it." You hesitated, "...Hmm if you don't want it, you can always give it to Last Boss. He- he caught me in the kitchens once and I promised to bake him stuff if he helped me clean up after. He doesn't talk much and he's kind of scary, but he's nice." He turned to you then, and the expression on his face might've told you that you were overstaying your visit, so you quickly rushed for the door. "Mm okay, bye!" you said as you sent him an awkward wave and left.

He wondered if you thought he was scary but nice.

»«»«»«

A piece of chocolate cake was left by his greenhouse the day after.

The day after that, a croissant.

The gifts were always accompanied by small notes written in pretty handwriting. Some were simple recipes; others were small facts about medicinal plants he knew nothing about. He kept them all, safely hidden in a can on his worktable. A week went by where he expected a new pastry or sweet to welcome him. And, without fail, there it was. He never saw you around though, in the mornings or throughout the day, which he found odd. He didn't even know your name, but he found himself searching for you throughout the Beach, or in the games at night. But he never saw you. He would've thought you were dead if it weren't for the consistent gifts you left at his door.

Now, he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a man for breakfast. He really wasn't. But after trying a piece of that apple pie, he saw himself devouring almost the whole thing. The same with the cake and the croissant. They were probably the best baked goods that he had ever tried. He was even more excited to start his mornings.

This morning, however, he arrived at the greenhouse to find nothing by the door. No box, no note, no wrapping. Nothing. He furrowed his brows, feeling disappointed, but quickly shrugged the feeling off as he got inside. Your pleasantries had to stop someday.

It bothered him, though. And he hated the fact that it bothered him. He hated the fact that he cared. He spent the day thinking about it. Thinking about you. Where could you possibly be? What happened? He didn’t even know your name. He didn’t know what bedroom you lived in, and it was driving him mad.

He had zoned out throughout the morning meeting, lashed out at several of the militants, and was now fully ignoring Takeru as his best friend went on and on about something he didn’t care enough to even pretend to be listening.

“Mori, hey!” His friend snapped his fingers in front of his face, forcing Aguni out of his thoughts. He stared at Takeru with a frown.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him.

“The first time all week that we’re having lunch together, and you’re quieter than usual,” his friend said, nodding at the plate of barely touched food in front of him. “You’re not even eating. What’s going on?” 

“I’m fine,” he shrugged, stabbing a piece of roasted rabbit with his fork and taking a bite. He chewed as he thought of a good excuse. Takeru could be annoyingly perceptive when it came to other people’s emotions, especially his. “Just have a lot on my mind, that’s all,” he finally said.

His friend looked at him for a moment before setting his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on his palms. Oh no, he knew what that meant. He was about to be questioned to death.

"Are you in love?" he asked, a slight smirk on his lips.

Aguni choked on his own spit at the man's question, violently coughing as he vehemently shook his head. 

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he asked after easing his cough, throat burning, and eyes teary from the effort.

"Well let's see," Takeru started, hand raised as he prepared himself to make a list. Aguni instantly regretted his question. "You've been late to meetings almost every morning for the past week, you barely pay attention to anything I tell you and I'm pretty sure I heard you hum 'Lay All Your Love on Me' by ABBA the other day. I've never heard you do anything close to singing," Takeru said as he wiggled three raised fingers before raising a fourth. "And a little bird told me that they heard you talking with someone inside your garden house." The smirk on his lips turned into a grin as Aguni averted his eyes. "So, tell me; who is she? Or is it a he? C'mon, you know you can tell–"

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all he said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Takeru wasn't easy to fool, though.

"You know what, I know you're full of shit, but I will allow it," he said with a fork pointed in his direction. "For now, at least. Now it's dessert time!" Takeru licked his lips as he pulled a tray to the center of the table. "I've been wanting you to try this for days, it's delicious!" He opened the tray to uncover two perfectly sized individual pies. Not just any pies, either. Aguni knew exactly who made them.

"Where did you get this?" he blurted out, staring at the perfectly cooked pastries. Takeru looked at him with a confused look.

"Huh, the kitchen? Where else?"

"Yeah, but who made them?" Aguni pressed further, wanting an answer that would show him that you were actually alive. "Were they made today?"

"Uh, I would hope so, yeah. And I don't know who made them, old Yamamoto just said it was one of her helpers," Takeru retorted with a shrug. "They're amazing, though, you should try it."

Aguni almost felt himself sag in relief. If these were made today, that meant that you were alive. It also meant that you definitely had stopped leaving gifts at his door. He tried not to focus on how he felt a little hurt by it. It was not like you owed him anything, anyway.

He still couldn't stop thinking about you as he finished his lunch with Takeru. He hated to admit it, but he felt bad for how he had treated you when you first met. He felt like he owed you at least an apology, and – not like he would ever admit it to himself – he wanted to see you again.

He always went for a short walk after lunch before having to proceed with his duties for the day. He wasn't exactly surprised to find himself by the kitchens, peeping inside the large double doors to take a look – part of him hoping to see you there.

What he saw instead were the so-called Food Ladies, a group of old women that had taken upon themselves the important role of cooking for everyone at the Beach. They were now chilling and having their own meals after the lunch hour rush. He spotted Mrs. Yamamoto, the oldest of the bunch – that also happened to be the boss – leaning by the doors that led outside, smoking her usual cigarette. She spotted him too, with small dark eyes that made him want to run away. It was strangely similar to the way his grandmother used to look at him when he misbehaved as a child.

“Oi, boy, c’mere,” she called him before he could walk away. The laughs and conversations of the other women ceased immediately as he entered the room. They eyed him for some time, one of the old ladies elbowing another before whispering something he couldn’t hear. His brows furrowed; he hated all that attention.

“Mrs. Yama–”

“You have to learn how to control your militants, Aguni,” she said as soon as he got close enough. “Two of your boys were disturbing one of my girls this morning. God knows what they would’ve done to the poor thing if I hadn’t shooed them away.” He had to control his facial expression; was she talking about you? “That girl gets up before dawn to cook sweets for so many people in this godforsaken place, and that’s how they repay her?” The old woman shook her head, before adding, “The rude boy with the piercings on his face and the odd one with the katana. See to it that they don’t get close to her again, do ya hear me?” 

He nodded once before turning to leave, anger already simmering inside him. He had the urge to use his fists on a very specific someone.

He found whom he was looking for on the roof, as he expected. Last Boss was the first to notice him, eyes going wide as Aguni power walked to the man next to him.

“...and Chishiya– oh fuck! What the hell?!” Niragi screamed as Aguni pushed him toward the edge of the roof before forcing him to lean over it.

He held the man by his collar, almost making him lose his balance and fall to his death. Part of him really wanted to let go. He knew what Niragi was capable of.

“What were you doing in the kitchen this morning?” he asked in a cold, emotionless tone. The younger man looked down before visibly gulping and staring at him with a furrowed brow.

“T- The kitchen?...” he asked back. Aguni took a deep breath before loosening the grip on his shirt, making Niragi yelp and grab his arm. “Look look, it was his idea to go there, I didn’t do anything!”

Aguni looked back at Last Boss, and the man raised his hands while shaking his head.

“He- he just followed me there, I didn’t ask him to come with me,” the tattooed man said, stumbling on his words. “If you’re talking about the old lady, she kicked us out, but we didn’t do anything, I swear.” 

“The girl?” he asked through gritted teeth. He was starting to lose his patience. The younger men shared a look between them before Last Boss started talking.

“Y/N?” he asked for clarification. So that was your name. “We didn’t touch her. Niragi just took some pies and we left.” 

“Is that so?” Aguni asked Niragi, the man still in his grasp. He knew what he was capable of, and he wouldn’t put it past Last Boss to lie for his friend. “Cause that’s not what I heard…” his fingers loosened once again around the man’s collar, making him tighten his grip on Aguni’s arm.

“Fine, fine, I- I might’ve teased her a little,” the man confessed. “But I didn’t mean to make her cry, and we left right after. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

Aguni considered his words for a moment, before pulling Niragi off the edge and pushing him to the ground. The man cursed something under his breath that Aguni preferred to ignore as he now focused on Last Boss.

“Do you know her last name?” he asked. The man shook his head. Aguni sighed; he would have to check Mira’s records if he wanted to find her room. “You both better stay away from the kitchens and from that girl,” he said, now keeping his stone-cold gaze on Niragi. “Is that clear?”

Both men nodded. 

Without another word, Aguni left the roof.

»«»«»«

It was surprisingly hard for him to find your room. 

Mira had immediately denied any access to her records, claiming invasion of privacy. Which it was; he would probably do the same thing if he was in her place. But he pressed on, and she eventually gave in, simply saying that you lived in the south wing of the Hotel, somewhere on the second level. He accepted the information and forced himself to ask around for you, as inconspicuously as he could. Surprisingly, practically no one recognized the description he gave of you, and no one knew your name. He was almost giving up when finally...

“Oh, Y/N?” a couple of young women said. “Yeah, she lives next door to us, room 237.”

He finally had your room number.

Aguni spent five minutes gathering the necessary courage to knock on your door, hesitating and almost leaving every time he lifted his knuckles against the door. He made a frustrated sound, annoyed with himself.

“You’re an idiot,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Hello?” someone greeted behind him. Aguni froze before looking over his shoulder. There you were. Dressed in shorts and a light jacket, hair in a braid over your shoulder, and a hesitant smile on your face, you looked pretty in his eyes. It really made him wonder if Takeru was right; he did have a crush on someone. “Hmm, is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, uh- hey.” He cleared his throat as he realized he had been staring. He could feel his face getting warm. “Hm, how’re doing?” he asked, before grimacing. Ah yes, Morizono, very nice. You raised a brow as you looked at him for a moment.

“I’m... fine,” you answered with a hesitant smile. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes, I- I wanted to apologize,” he cringed at his stuttering. But there it was. Direct and clear. The fastest he could get himself out of this awkward conversation, the better. “I heard about what happened this morning with two of my militants, and I just want you to know that they won’t bother you again.”

“Oh, that was just a misunderstanding!" you say as you shake your head. "I was just talking with Mrs. Yamamoto about that. Nothing happened."

"That was not what I heard."

"No, no, I'm fine, they didn't do anything to me," you reassured him. "Niragi just… said some mean things, but Last Boss stopped him. Mrs. Yamamoto thought they were hurting me and I'm really sorry." You shrugged and gave him an awkward smile. "I just cry sometimes. I even went to talk with Last Boss about it, but I think Mrs. Yamamoto really scared him, 'cause he keeps avoiding me." You said with an awkward chuckle. "But I'm okay, really."

Aguni grunted with a nod, convinced that you were telling him the truth. Still, he wanted those two, Niragi in particular, as far from you as he could.

"If they mess with you again, let me know, all right?" You nodded at his request, and he almost had the urge to smile back at you. "Okay then," he said with a nod before making a move to leave.

"Hmm, did you enjoy today's pastry?" he heard you ask in a hesitant tone. He turned around, confused. There was no pastry waiting for him today. He said so to you, and your brows furrowed. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I left you something. Strawberry pie with a chocolate crust?"

"There was nothing when I got there," he said. There were butterflies in his stomach, though. You hadn't stopped baking stuff for him, after all. 

"That's odd…" you said as you bit your lip, wondering what could've happened. "Well," you shrugged, "I'll make sure you get it tomorrow morning, then."

He nodded without a word and watched as you smiled at him before moving to open your door.

"How's your arm?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. You froze by the door for a moment before showing him your arm, skin looking much better than it was just a week prior.

"That aloe mix you gave me helped a lot. Thanks, again," you said with another one of those smiles that made him want to smile back.

"You know…" he hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying what he meant to say, eyes on your feet, "If you ever want to, you can show up by the greenhouse, sometimes. There are these new seeds I got that might interest you. I don't know, but the offer stands."

He shrugged, like what he just said meant nothing. He finally focused on your face, and his stomach did somersaults as he found you grinning at him.

"I would like that very much." 

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

And the next. And the next. And the other one after that. Always with a smile on your face, always carrying a new sweet that you would both share.

The first days were as awkward as you could imagine. He almost feared looking you in the eyes, feeling like a teenager again with all the blushing and weird sensations in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a smile from you to look as red as one of his tomatoes. 

At first, you would eat in silence, until you eventually broke it by mentioning something about plants, or what flowers you were expecting to bring the next time you went scavenging. Then it would be just you doing most of the talk as he stuffed his mouth with whatever deliciousness you had brought him that day, nodding, and grunting on occasion. He realized he liked hearing you speak. Hearing your voice.

Then he would start working on whatever he had planned the morning before, and that's when you would watch him as he went around his garden showing you things. You would give him ideas from time to time, always following him as you attentively listened to his words. He realized he liked the attention. Your attention.

It didn't take long until you were more comfortable around each other. Then you would both talk freely, almost always about plants. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to know more about you, but he didn't have the courage to ask.

"What did you do... before?" you asked one day, about a week into your morning rendezvous. You were sharing a quiche today, and he took his time chewing before answering.

"Was part of the SDF," he said. You nodded like it made sense that a man like him had a job like that. "Nothing too interesting, though,” he said with a shrug. “You?"

"Worked at my family's bakery," you said, a small smile on your face as you seemed to think back to those times. "My grandma taught me everything I know. She made the best quiche in Tokyo, you know? Mine has nothing on hers."

He couldn't control his chuckle then, nor he meant to say the words that got out of his mouth next.

"Takeru would love to hear that."

"Who?" you asked, brow raised as you chewed a piece of the salty pastry. There were flakes of crust on the corner of your mouth, and he had to control the urge to wipe them away with his thumb. He shook his head instead.

"Just a friend from… from back home," he said. "The man can't cook to save his life but bakes one hell of a quiche. Yours is better, though."

You smiled at the compliment and proceeded to eat in silence. He didn't want to waste the chance to get to know you more, though.

"What do you do all day?" he asked. You raised a brow, and he specified what he meant, "I mean, I barely see you around and no one seems to know you, so…"

"Oh, I just stay in my room all day," you said as you shrugged and let out an awkward chuckle. "I'm not really a people person and I spend most of my nights awake, so I mostly just sleep."

"What do you do when you're awake, then?"

"I go to the games, I bake and, well, now I spend some time here with you." He could swear his heart beat a little faster at your words. He felt strangely honored that you decided to spend time with him. 

"Yeah, I'm not much of a people person myself," he said. "Plants are much better, aren't they?" He tried to send you a small smile but immediately regretted it as it felt more like a grimace. You smiled back at him, though, so it probably wasn't as bad as he thought it was. 

"Hmm, you're right, but I don't mind some people."

He didn't know what to make of your statement.

»«»«»«

A month passed when you met every morning. 

Your joined morning routine had taken a comfortable rhythm for both of you, where you ate, talked, and worked without that awkward vibe of the first few days. With you joining him in the work, his crops flourished. It was the best part of his day, without a doubt.

He realized several things during that time.

The first was that you liked to sing while you worked. Didn't matter if you were planting potatoes, watering the flowers, or preparing herbal remedies – that you had eventually convinced him to be useful – you were always humming a tune under your breath, or singing the words aloud. 

The second thing he realized was that he liked it.

He liked to hear you sing so much that the songs would stay in his head for the rest of the day, and he would wake up with your voice still echoing in his head. He had even caught himself whistling at times. Once during a council meeting, where he had zoned out again and was completely oblivious to the fact that he had been humming 'I Want to Break Free’ by Queen until Takeru snapped his attention and everyone was looking at him like he had grown two heads. All except his best friend, that had a knowing smirk on his lips.

The third thing he realized – and, to his shock, didn't surprise him – was that he had totally developed a crush on you.

"So, am I ever going to meet them or what?" Takeru asked over his glass of golden whiskey, taking a sip when Aguni took too long to answer. "You can't keep them a secret from me forever."

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all Aguni said as he took a gulp of his own drink, avoiding his friend's eyes and looking at the moon up high in the sky. His friend really had the best view for late-night drinking, especially after a stressful game. 

"Fine, don't tell me," Takeru shrugged like he didn't care, but Aguni could tell he one hundred percent did. What was he supposed to tell him? There was no relationship for him to talk about. 

"Okay, listen…" his friend's eyes shined as he focused all his attention on him, making Aguni want to hide from his scrutiny. He took a deep breath before saying, "There's nothing to talk about. There's no relationship."

"Ahh, but you're in love, aren't you?" Takeru let out an excited laugh, and Aguni could feel the corners of his mouth pulling up. "In all the years we've been friends I saw you like what? Three people? And you never behaved like this." He drank whatever was left of the drink in his glass before filling it up again. "This one sure looks promising." There was a pause where they just drank in silence before he asked again "So, what's her name? It’s a she, isn't it?"

"Y/N," Aguni mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. Takeru's eyes widen comically at the name.

"The pie girl?!" he asked in a raised tone. "You're head over heels for the pie girl?" He laughed then, and Aguni furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"You know her?" 

"Yeah, I mean, old Yamamoto wouldn't tell me who the miracle baker was, so I went to see for myself. She's cute," he let out a mean chuckle, "I knew you were getting thicker around the waist. She's feeding you well, I see."

"Yeah." Aguni gave him a full-on smirk as he said the next words, "She makes the best quiche I've ever eaten." 

The shocked and offended gasp that left Takeru's mouth almost made him laugh. 

"You take that back!" the man punched his arm once and drank the remaining of his whiskey in one single gulp. "You just ruined my night. Get out and think about what you just said. I'll be expecting an apology by morning."

Aguni laughed then, the only kind of laugh that he could only make when he was around his best friend.

"Yours is good," he shrugged, still laughing. "But hers is better."

»«»«»«

->Next Chapter

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

[scuttle-buttle]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Part of the Baron on the Run series. Also available on AO3 @  scuttlebuttle. They say that life inspires art. i was vibing while making pasta last night and viola.

Summary: You and Zemo do a little dance.

Word Count: ~1.3

Rating: T

Tags: fluff, mildly suggestive, cold war talk, mentions of child loss, indiana jones, disco, italian food, just dance reference

______________________________________________

Zemo entered the kitchen and set his coat on the back of the chair. "Evening, liebe. How was your day?"

You walked over to him. The one nice thing about being quite tall was that you didn't have to go far to reach his waiting lips. Giving him a soft peck, you hummed "it was good. I finally got to look over that set of documents from Belarus this morning. There wasn’t much that I didn’t already know in it. Although, it did confirm that the push for economic and social stability in the capital, as well as the implementation of some westernized practices, was not so that the BSSR and USSR could modernize or even compete with the west - rather it was a means to draw people to settle in Minsk instead of the countryside where it would be easier for Hydra to keep tabs on anyone they perceived to be a threat…” you continued to ramble in the most analytic jargon about the historical implications you discovered.

Helmut made himself a glass of scotch, occasionally nodding along to what you said. Running out of breath you finally stop; "anyway… enough about me."

“I like listening to what you are passionate about. You have worked hard to be so successful and so young.” You gave him a look as though you didn’t believe a word he was saying. And it wasn’t like you were that young, only a little over a decade between you two.

“How did the recon mission go?”

"It went well. I was able to get close enough to the mark to get what I needed. They make it so easy when they openly discuss their plans. You would like the cafe - perhaps later this week we will go. The agreed rendezvous is late tomorrow night; I won't wake you." For the last month Helmut had dedicated his efforts to helping you with your dissertation research. You had limited resources on Sokovia due to the rampant corruption the nation faced. Those few that you had access to Helmut would help translate.

Hands gently massaging your shoulders as he leaned over you. His cologne invades your senses. “This right here - I’m not sure what it means,” you would tell him, pointing to the passage.

Glancing over it for a moment, Helmut responded with the translation. “You know schatz, I’m beginning to wonder if you truly need my assistance, or if you just want an excuse for me to touch you,” he chuckled.

The fall of the country and subsequent annexation made matters even more challenging. Some unsavory underground groups had been smuggling documents and the like for a profit. With his background in EKO Scorpion and the intelligence community it was an easy way for him to spend his time tracking the materials. "It won't just be for you, liebe. If I can recover any of the surviving artifacts and records from before the Avengers destroyed my country it is a step towards preserving my heritage," was his justification. He wouldn't admit it, but you knew he liked being back in the field, so to speak. You also knew that the more information he had the more cards were up his sleeve.

"Don't forget to bring your hat and whip when you go," you ribbed, referencing one of your favorite film series; Indiana Jones.

"Of course... Hmm. Maybe when I get back I will have to wake you. I'm sure we could put them to better use than just treasure hunting." Helmut loved to tease you after he discovered your fondness for a young Harrison Ford. In fact, teasing and flirting with you had become his favorite pastime since your first night together.

Groaning out a laugh at his suggestive joke, you turned and headed back over to the stove. You set on a large pot of water to boil. Helmut approached the stove. "And what are you preparing for dinner this evening, liebling?" he asked, rubbing your back through your top. You knew he didn’t expect you to cook for him, but you wanted to.

"Spaghetti and a homemade sauce with spicy Italian sausage - my father used to make it when I was growing up." You stirred the simmering sauce, letting the flavors continue to marinate together.

"It smells wonderful,” he moaned. Somberly he added “I used to make a bolognese. It was the one dish I knew how to prepare. It was my son’s favorite.” You squeezed his side in hopes to offer comfort.

“You’ll have to make it for me sometime,” you request tenderly.

His lips turned up in a soft smile. “Yes I will, liebe. I'm going to go change before we eat, I will be back shortly." He kissed your temple before heading to the bedroom of the house you were occupying.

When the water boiled you placed the noodles in the pot and set a timer. Grabbing your phone off the counter you pulled up Spotify, queueing your "feeling it" playlist. The beginning notes of ABBA's Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! began. Heading to the cabinet you brought down two glasses. Picking a bottle of red wine - sweeter to balance with the spiciness of the sauce - you opened it and poured yourself and Helmut a glass each.

Hips beginning to sway to the rhythm of the music, you returned to the stove. This playlist always put you in a great mood. You continued to move to the music, singing along softly. You take a generous swig from the bottle of wine still in your hand before adding some to the sauce, stirring the pot thoroughly.

Dancing through the kitchen you sing out 'gimme! gimme! gimme! a man after midnight!" You knew you were a terrible dancer, even worse than Helmut. That didn't stop you from partaking in the activity, your hips gyrating and shoulders shimmying.

You didn't notice the movement in the hallway, still caught up in the song. Wine glass in hand, you attend to the stove to ensure the water doesn't boil over. The song eventually changes over to a Boney M classic. "There lived a certain man in Russia long ago…." Excitedly, you put down your glass. You remember the choreography like it was yesterday, middle school you always danced to the song in an old video game.

Without hesitation you clapped your hands and swung your hips to the beat. Turning you notice Helmut leaning against the kitchen door. How long he'd been there, you didn't know. Based on the amused smile he wore he clearly enjoyed watching you look like an idiot dance.

Making your way to him you reach out for his hands. Helmut followed along, albeit hesitant to move his body yet. You locked your eyes to his. Wiggling your eyebrows exaggeratedly at him, pushing and pulling his arms in time with the beat. “Come on, Helmut - dance with me!”

“I thought I was a terrible dancer? Did you not say that in Madripoor?” he interrogated without a single trace of seriousness.

“Oh you know I love the way you dance,” you giggled, still moving to the beat.

There was a glint of something in his eyes; suddenly Helmut took charge of your little dance. He twisted his hips from side to side, breaking one hand away from you to twirl you under his arm. The two of you danced like dorks, firsts pumping and hands in the air and wagging your fingers around the kitchen.

A sudden shrill from the timer stopped your movements, both bursting into fits of laughter. Turning off the timer Helmut took care of draining the pasta for you. As you caught your breath you couldn’t help but admire the man. He had spent so long seeking vengeance, yet now here he was dancing like a weirdo with you in the kitchen. His face was so relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy and at peace you thought to yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you had something to do with that.

“Is the sauce ready?” Helmut inquired with a lingering smile.

You took a minute to keep appreciating him before answering. “Yeah. Yeah it’s good.”

Tag list: @ay0nha​