#the way he reads her in the it's a date scene...you can see him figure it out and he goes from happy and carefree to weight of the world

[wistfulwatcher]

hotch + growing somber as he realizes emily is leaving

[enhaflixer]

wahhh i just read strikes out and i love every single thing about it 😭 literally every line is chefs kiss especially when jake just figured jade’s his daughter 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 now my only problem is wanting more for the fic hhh and u can ignore this if u have too much on ur plate but i’d really like to request a scenario for that baby number … like finding out and jake being there every step of the way esp since reader had a complicated pregnancy with jade 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑵𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒐 | A “Strikes Out” Bonus Scene

The Pregnancy

Jake had always been borderline ridiculous when it came to taking care of you, but pregnancy? Pregnancy turned him into a full-blown menace.

“Babe, I can walk by myself,” you huffed as he practically carried you down the stairs, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist.

Jake ignored you. “The doctor said you shouldn’t overexert yourself.”

“She meant lifting heavy things, not walking like a normal person.”

Jake shot you an unimpressed look as he helped you settle onto the couch, adjusting pillows like some kind of overprotective mother hen. “You’re growing an entire human,” he said, pulling a blanket over you despite the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon. “That’s already overexertion enough.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “You do realize I was pregnant before, right? This isn’t my first time.”

Jake, completely unfazed, placed a full water bottle next to you on the couch like you were some kind of delicate, fragile thing. “Yeah,” he muttered, lowering himself onto the floor beside you, resting a careful hand on your belly. “But last time, I wasn’t here.”

Your frustration melted instantly.

Jake stared at your growing belly, rubbing gentle circles against it. “I wasn’t there for any of this,” he murmured, voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t see the way Jade kicked, or how tired you got, or how much you craved mangoes at 2 a.m.”

Your chest tightened.

“You’re here now,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “That’s all that matters.”

Jake exhaled slowly, leaning his forehead against your stomach, pressing the softest kiss against your skin. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And I’m never missing a second again.”

And he meant it.

Jake was at every single appointment. Every ultrasound. Every check-up.

He was there for the nausea, the backaches, the mood swings. He held your hair when you got sick, massaged your feet when you got swollen, read every single baby book he could get his hands on.

He was there for the first kick, his eyes going impossibly wide as he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands against your belly.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “He’s strong.”

You laughed, stroking his hair. “Like his dad.”

Jake kissed your stomach right then and there, his lips lingering for a long moment. “Hi, little man,” he murmured softly. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

And then, of course, there was The Incident™.

One night, at three in the morning, you woke up to an empty bed.

Frowning, you pushed yourself up, waddling out of the bedroom—only to find Jake in the nursery, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half-assembled baby furniture, his face scrunched up in concentration.

You sighed. “Jake.”

He whipped around instantly, eyes guilty. “I was just—” He gestured to the unfinished crib. “I was—”

“Go to bed.”

“But—”

“I swear to God, Jake, if you don’t get back in bed right now, I will personally end you before this pregnancy does.”

Jake scrambled up immediately, gently ushering you back to the bedroom while muttering something about “pregnancy hormones are terrifying”.

The Talk with Jade

Jade had been over the moon about the baby since the moment she found out, but the closer the due date got, the more she seemed… quieter.

One night, Jake found her sitting alone in the backyard, soccer ball barely nudging against her feet, her shoulders hunched slightly.

He immediately sat down beside her, bumping her gently with his arm. “Hey, superstar. What’s on your mind?”

Jade shrugged, not looking at him. “Nothing.”

Jake hummed, waiting. He knew his daughter well enough to know that she’d talk when she was ready.

After a long moment, Jade glanced up at him, chewing her lip. “Daddy?”

His heart still stuttered when she called him that. He would never get used to it. “Yeah, baby?”

Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “When the baby comes… am I still gonna be your favorite?”

Jake froze.

Then, without hesitation, he reached out, pulling her right into his arms, cradling her close. “Oh, Jade,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, his heart squeezing. “Nothing is ever gonna change how much I love you. Not ever.”

Jade sniffled against his chest. “But you’re gonna have two kids now.”

Jake cupped her little face, making her look at him. “You were the first person who ever called me Dad,” he whispered. “That makes you so special to me, Jade. You made me a dad. And now, you get to be a big sister, too.”

Jade swallowed hard. “What if the baby likes you more than me?”

Jake laughed softly, shaking his head. “That’s impossible.” He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice gentle and certain. “You are my girl. That’s never gonna change.”

Jade nodded slowly, blinking back her tears, before wrapping her little arms tightly around his neck. “Okay,” she whispered.

Jake closed his eyes, holding her just as tightly. “I love you so much, baby.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

The Birth

When you finally went into labor, Jake was ready.

Hospital bag? Packed.

Route to the hospital? Mapped out three different ways.

Jade? Already staying at Tia’s house with strict instructions for updates.

But when he saw you wince in pain, saw the way your breath hitched, his entire world tilted.

He held your hand the entire time, whispering soft encouragements, pressing kisses to your forehead.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”

And then—

The cry.

Tiny. Loud. Perfect.

But then he saw him.

The first time he held his son, his tiny, squirming, brand new son, wrapped up in soft blue blankets with a full head of dark hair and impossibly small fingers that curled instinctively around his thumb—everything else ceased to exist.

“Oh,” he whispered, completely wrecked, his voice catching in his throat.

Jacob Sim. His son. His boy. His tiny, fragile, perfect little boy.

Something swelled inside him, something overwhelming, something that threatened to bring him to his knees. He was already crying before he even realized it, silent tears slipping down his face as he rocked slightly, instinctively, protectively holding his newborn closer.

“Jake?” you murmured softly from the hospital bed, exhaustion heavy in your voice, but your eyes were bright as you watched him.

Jake turned, barely able to form words, his gaze flickering between you and the baby in his arms. “I—” He let out a shaky breath. “He’s—oh my God.”

You smiled, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his arm. “He’s got you wrapped around his tiny little fingers already, doesn’t he?”

Jake let out something between a laugh and a sob, because—of course he did.

Jade had claimed his heart the moment she grinned up at him with her dimples and declared herself his number one fan. And now Jacob, tiny and new and still figuring out how to exist in the world, had done the same without even trying.

Carefully, he stepped closer to the bed, sitting beside you as he adjusted his hold on the baby, making sure you could see him properly. “Look at him,” Jake murmured, his voice soft with reverence. “Look at our boy.”

You reached out, brushing a delicate fingertip over Jacob’s tiny nose, his soft cheek. “I can’t believe he’s finally here.”

Jake exhaled slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before glancing back down at his son. “Jacob Sim,” he murmured, testing the name out loud, letting it settle in his chest.

A quiet sniffle from the doorway made him turn.

Jade stood there, gripping the edge of the hospital door, her eyes huge as she took in the sight of her baby brother for the very first time. She was still wearing her little soccer jersey—Jake recognized it immediately because he was the one who had helped her put it on this morning.

For a second, she just stood there, staring. Then, slowly, she crept forward.

Jake exchanged a quick glance with you before turning to her, shifting the baby in his arms. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said gently. “Come meet your baby brother.”

Jade approached cautiously, like she wasn’t sure what to do. Then she hesitated beside the hospital bed, looking up at him with wide, careful eyes.

“Is he really mine?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s chest tightened. He reached out with his free hand, pulling her in close. “Yeah, baby,” he murmured. “He’s yours too.”

Jade swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in her father’s arms. Then, very slowly, she reached out her small hand, fingers trembling slightly as she carefully brushed Jacob’s tiny fist.

The baby stirred, shifting slightly, and Jade sucked in a quiet breath. “He’s so little,” she whispered. “I thought he’d be bigger.”

Jake chuckled softly. “He’ll grow,” he said, watching the way she studied her brother with quiet awe. “But right now, he’s just figuring things out.”

Jade nodded, still staring.

After a moment, she bit her lip and shifted slightly, like she was trying to hold something back.

Jake frowned. “Jade? What’s wrong, baby?”

Jade hesitated for a second longer before blurting out, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be a good big sister, Daddy."

Jake’s heart broke right then and there.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice so soft, so full of warmth. He pulled her into his side, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re already the best big sister in the whole world.”

Jade sniffled, peeking up at him. “Really?”

Jake nodded. “Really.” Then, carefully, he turned the baby slightly, adjusting his hold. “Do you wanna hold him?”

Jade froze, eyes going impossibly wide. “Can I?”

Jake exchanged a glance with you before nodding. “Of course you can, but you gotta be really gentle, okay?”

Jade nodded so hard her hair bounced, and Jake smiled before carefully settling the baby into her arms, keeping one hand there just in case.

Jade held her breath as Jacob wiggled slightly, his tiny nose scrunching. Then, very slowly, he settled, his tiny head resting against her arm.

Jade beamed.

“Hi, Jacob,” she whispered, voice filled with wonder.

Jake watched them, something warm and unbreakable filling his chest.

This was his family. His daughter, holding her baby brother. His son, safe and sound. You, exhausted but smiling at them with so much love it physically hurt to look at you.

This time, he had been here for everything.

This time, he wasn’t missing a second.

And as Jade rocked her baby brother gently, whispering about how she was going to teach him everything he needed to know—soccer, cartoons, which snacks were the best—Jake realized that this?

This was the happiest he had ever been.

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

eddie munson x shy!oc

contents: anxiety, curse words, friends to lovers. lovesick!eddie, inexperienced!reader, self-consciousness, first kiss, sharing clothes. eddie’s jacket is oversized on reader. can be read as x reader, but a bit oc too? carnival date.

word count: ~1.5k

eddie munson is in love.

she is entirely inexperienced in anything romantic or sexual; no first kiss, never even got close to it. extremely shy and anxious, has a seemingly innocent aura, is a bit out of sorts, ditzy, with a sort of luna lovegood vibe. doesn’t argue with people, always tears up if confronted about anything, doesn’t have beef with anyone and is a lot more rational than emotional even though she tears up so easily. also doesn’t hold grudges or care what people think of her…

the thing is, she has been introverted her whole life, a very anxious person, and so doesn’t understand that eddie munson likes her because she needs to be told how people feel about her very explicitly otherwise her mind will convince her they hate her. anxiety is like that. and she’s the kind of person that has a hard time realizing that people can perceive their existence and have feelings for them, no matter what type of feelings, so even though eddie is not at all shy about flirting with her and giving her all of the attention in the world in his over-the-top, overdramatic way, he also knows that if anything other than the friendship he’s thankfully managed to build with her is going to happen, romantic-wise, that she has to be the one to initiate it— but she’s oblivious!

on the other hand though, she doesn’t even bother hiding her infatuation with eddie — it’s a lot more than infatuation by now. she’s always looking at him with stars in her eyes and laughs at his jokes and smiles that big, square, goofy smile whenever they lock eyes and constantly praises him because he deserves to feel as special as he is, right? and she goes into detailed talks about lord of the rings with him, likes many of the same bands he does or simply lets him play his favorites for her, and she truly loves to watch hellfire play dungeons & dragons.

her eds even made her a special edition pink hellfire shirt. ‘cause he’s a simp.

one day, as she’s out with chrissy and heather outside a diner, talking and laughing and catching up, eddie is close by somewhere with friends. his van is parked nearby.

it starts getting chilly, and eddie’s girl starts shivering, so she quickly excused herself away from the girls, “gimme a second!” and reaches through the open window of eddie’s van, making a mental note to grill him about it later — “‘cause it isn’t safe, eds!” — to grab his leather jacket thinking of how he has told her over and over that she can borrow it, that “what’s mine is yours, sweets. i don’t mind sharing if it’s with you”, so she figures it’s okay, right? and goes back to the girls who are fucking smirking like they see something she doesn’t.

it’s about fifteen minutes later, and eddie is walking towards the trio, simply because he misses his girl and wants a hug, when he sees it.

she’s wearing his jacket. his jacket.

in typical eddie fashion, he makes a scene— gasping dramatically, he clutches his chest over his heart and falls to his knees, because fuck what anyone around thinks. his precious girl is wearing his fucking jacket! and she looks like a fucking angel.

“eds, what are you doin’?”

“do you know how heavenly you look in my jacket? i just had to get on my knees to worship you.”

the boy shuffles closer to his sweet girl on his knees still while he talks and she’s flustered, okay? she’s shy and her face is on fire and she’s covering her cheeks and giggling. and because it’s eddie, her eddie, she’s not running away to have a panic attack. ‘cause it’s eddie and he’s being sweet, so she can’t focus on anyone else long enough to feel crippling anxiety or embarrassment. doesn’t even care that chrissy is cooing and heather is smirking.

“that jacket is yours now, you own it. you pretty much own me by now.” eddie says, on his knees, in front of her

“it’s okay that i took it right?” she makes sure even after his display of joy, ‘cause anxiety isn’t rational “you said i—”

her eddie knows her, though. he stands up, gets real fucking close to her, so close they’re almost touching, with this look of absolute adoration and “i’d give ya everything i have if i could, pretty.”

fast forward a few days later. chrissy kept yapping on and on to the oblivious girl about how “in love” eddie is, but it’s as though her brain won’t let her even entertain the idea.

that’s until she’s having a semi-regular quote unquote friend-date with eddie, something they’ve done quite a few times before, and this time they go to the fair. they’re doing everything couples might do, eddie is very aware of this, and he’s over the moon to just be enjoying quality time with his pretty girl until she spots a photobooth, “oh, eds! we have to!” and eddie’s desperately counting coins to pay. the pictures go a little something like this:

after coming up blank with pose ideas, they just look at each other and laugh, but at the sound of his free and bright laugh, she just stares at her boy like he’s a dream come true— first pic is taken, looking at eddie like he hung the moon while he’s mid-laugh.

eddie notices her staring and goes from loud laughs to breathless ones, a smile on his lips, and whispers a soft “what?”— second picture is taken as the girl quickly presses her lips to his, her very first kiss, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts eddie’s sweet girl nervously rambling “i was going to ask for permission first, i promise!” while eddie has a glassy, dreamy look on his face, slack jawed, looking at her lips.

and at the fourth snap? eddie presses forward to shut her up with another impossibly soft and tender kiss, both of their eyes are closed and his hand is holding her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

after they part from the second kiss, eddie acknowledges that it was her first kiss, a shy “was that okay?” to which his sweetheart just smiles really big and nods excitedly over and over with a breathless giggle. that was the perfect first and second kiss and she couldn’t ask for more.

they hold hands the rest of the night.

[irisinluv]

Caleb Love and deep space thoughts- SPOILERS AHEAD

Second update of brain dumping my thoughts as I play through the game… this time entirely Caleb focused

Ok so I’ve been reading Caleb’s anecdotes, dates, every scrap of info that becomes available to me…. And holy shit he’s such a simp!

Man almost fucking died, was lost in space for 2 weeks, and he’s just like “haha hey pipsqueak! Yea secret training mission, sorry, I’m back online!” As he’s in a hospital bed. Like baby boy not letting mc know he almost died???? And then the card/memory/whatever it’s called where he’s sick, and she has to basically beg him all day to let her in? Man wants to be Superman for her. Seriously, he’s out here becoming a pilot cuz it would pay well and help provide for mc, and if anything happened he could just whisk her away.

He literally worships the ground mc walks on. Obsessed with the necklace he gave him, kissing the pendant before each flight, not letting her lift a finger at the house when it comes to chore type things, using his evol to win her plushies at the claw machine… also he’s soooo obviously into the domestic life with mc! His house is bare bones before the reunion. Then MC shows up and there’s the scene where he’s surrounded by boxes, setting things up….. I picture him totally kicking himself for not having everything set up sooner, bc he got a house just so she could move in. I see him just living in an apartment that’s part of the officer barracks. There’s no reason why he has a whole ass house if not for mc. He just didn’t expect her to have infiltrated his ranks as a spy and to pop up so soon…. But hey she’s here now and so he’s totally buying everything and having a hot ikea build sesh in that slutty little tank top of his.

Oh and you know he’s a cheeky idiot about the fact that mc picked his room when deciding where to stay. Like we got that from the gameplay obviously…. But I just want to take moment to appreciate how hard that man must have been grinning on the inside. I also think it’s so cute that mc really is just making his place a second home. She’s got a little garden going at his house! She talks about the little yellow flowers she planted there in one of the text messages, and when he mentioned restocking his snacks on a community post mcs already planning on raiding it.

Also he’s been so obsessed with her since they were kids. Like he’s got some weird amnesia brain trauma shit going on after his deep space incident, and he scored poorly on the mental health portion of his exams (not him answering the “what’s the greatest challenge with flight missions?” Question with “it’s hard to get home on time”), and I’m assuming he was also an experiment by ever like MC is (but I haven’t gotten to the point where I can say that for sure), but like. That isn’t why he’s the way he is. Man was out here protecting her from bullies, the thing where he’d buy two of everything for mc, think he said something like “I wanted to grow up to be the most loyal… well you know, I could be” LOYAL HUSBAND? But from the jump he’s been doing everything for her. It’s so interesting getting this background from all the memories and whatnot. Like he’s made it such a source of pride to take care of mc in every tiny way, and so when she says stuff about not needing him, or uh, I don’t remember what thing it was part of but she fixed some electronic and was like “damn that was easier than I thought, guess I gotta stop bugging you for every tiny little thing, I can just figure it out.” and he PANICS! Like no baby- that’s his comfort thing. No matter what else is going on, at least he can feel needed and wanted when you come playfully whining to him that you can’t find your favorite mug. He’s the walking advertisement for acts of service. Also one last thing.

Yall noticed how he put his hat on mc like right after the reunion? The only thing I could think of is what it means when you put on a guys cowboy hat. Like damn Caleb. She’s still in shock that you’re not dead. But get it ig.

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 3 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments on the couch

warnings (TW): mdni, contains mature/suggestive content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

tags: mature/suggestive content (in act iii), fluff, early relationship described, pining, affection

notes: please note that there is heavily implied/suggestive/mature content in act iii of this posting (after the second break)- if you do not wish to interact with this type of content i swear to you you can completely skip it if you like, i attempt to not tie TOO much significance to the written scene- and if you would prefer that the postings stray away from this kind of content i will attempt to better balance it in the future! i am in no shape or form a very “smutty” writer (mainly bc i have never written it), so i hope the scene isnt like… terrible ya know lol (also i don’t consider it much for “smut”- i am def using said word very loosly). annnnyyywayyys hope you enjoy and as always my dms are open for suggestions in the future and general conversation and encouragement! enjoy!

also to note! I believe the story is best read in order- i put certain dependences on certain words and bring descriptions back to really solidify the importance of certain scenes/interactions ! but completely up to you, lol

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked the up to date masterlist for this series- thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

| masterlist | part iv |

She had caught him sleeping on the couch in the early heat of June. 

They had a late night on the couch, discussing Ford’s margin notes and rewatching The Price is Wrong. Stan had a certain affinity for price matching, and she was more than a little stunned to learn of it the first couple of months they resided in the shack together. 

She just didn’t expect this 30-year-old man to know the price of most common household appliances. 

After his divulgence last month, in which he had confided a little bit of his background in sales, she began to piece together that although Stan considered himself a conman in every way but words, she considered it pure brilliance. 

So she quickly got used to late-night T.V. shows, as they discussed next steps back and forth, with Stan interrupting conversations to yell out extremely accurate prices at the small box T.V. in front of the couch. It had grown on her, actually, and had turned rather… endearing. 

If not also incredibly hilarious, as he was so passionate about his own accuracy he usually forgot his volume, and sometimes took to ranting at her. 

“Hun! Hun! This is a load of malarkey I tell ya! That vacuum price is way too high! It don’t even come with added nozzle attachments!” 

She would laugh, and he would revel in making her do so. 

They had concluded the night in a similar fashion, and she had stumbled up to her bedroom. The first one on the right from the stairs. But he had lingered in the living room, muttering about tidying up some soda cans and taking the trash out quickly. 

She had shrugged it off, giving her goodnight, and made her way up the stairs. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn’t heard the usual meandering steps of Stan as he made for his own room across the hall from her. 

She almost never woke up before him, another thing that surprised her. She figured he was the type to doze in and out in the early morning, but he seemed to be quick to rise and even quicker to make a pot of coffee, usually stumbling down the stairs thirty minutes before she could manage to roll out of bed. 

So she thought it odd to look down the stairs and not see the usual kitchen light on, and the usual grumble of the shitty coffee machine either. 

She found him snoring on his back, the throw blanket she had brought with her half on half off him. It had grown a little muggy in the shack, due to the distinct lack of central air, but Stan’s solution seemed to be very simple. 

Just wear less clothes. 

Something that wouldn’t disturb her in the slightest, if it were not for, well… Stan. 

She was a scientist, a usual logical thinker, and only slightly prude (due to her upbringing), but she was no idiot, and she knew the man she was cohabitating with was attractive. 

I mean, he was also funny- made her laugh more times than she could count. He was oddly sincere for his age and even more oddly protective. He was flippantly affectionate and even more flippantly kind to her. 

And he was also shirtless. 

Something she takes note of instantly, instinctually. Whipping her head to make for the kitchen, and trying to forget the curve of his broad shoulders and the slight swell of his stomach. The smattering of dark hair on his chest all the way down to the crisp edge of the boxers she had folded two days ago. 

Coffee, coffee coffee! 

She didn’t make as good of a cup as he did, she had never had to before. Something he scoffed at, but quickly took to doing himself. He made it every morning, now. Always up before her, with her mug waiting for her by her worn kitchen chair. 

She turned to the stove instead, moving pans and turning on the burner. She’d make breakfast for them instead of her shitty burnt coffee special. Pulling eggs and bacon out of the small fridge she went to work. 

The smell woke him up, and she noted his groggy fumbling to redress himself. Glancing out the archway from kitchen to living room she watched him pass to the stairs, still shirtless. He takes the stairs two at a time, back up to his room to retrieve new clothes she presumed. 

He returns in minutes, in typical fashion it took him not too long to get ready in the morning. 

He walks in, still stretching, with hair muddled from sleep. A pair of work jeans that had seen a lot of love in the past month, and a shirt that was quickly growing too tight around his arms and shoulders. She decided to ignore that sliver of stomach that peaked out when he raised his arms a little too high, otherwise, the bacon would burn. 

He made his way to the coffee machine, beginning the usual morning routine as it spurred to life. Moving to the sink he began washing their shared mugs. 

Breakfast was always a little quiet like they both couldn’t be bothered to open their mouths beyond sating their appetite. They still moved the same, instinctually and without words. Falling into their unassigned assigned seats, Stan moving to grab her feet and drag them across his lap, while she moved the salt and pepper between them both. She always reached across to his plate, grabbing his toast to butter first and then moving to her own. 

She had decided to interrupt their usual silence this morning, looking across to Stan as he fumbled with the morning paper. He always went straight to the comics in the morning, hoping to pick up on a joke to read to her that day, hoping to make her laugh first before anything else in the morning. 

But she had thrown a wrench in his usual plan (that she still hadn’t picked up on yet). 

“Why were you on the couch?” She asked, biting around her toast. 

“It’s cooler down here hun.” 

“I know heat rises Stan, but the sun rises on my side of the house in the morning. It ain’t that hot upstairs yet. Is there something wrong with your bed?” 

When first rearranging rooms he had resolved to take Stanford's old one. He didn’t want her to have to live in the shell his brother had left behind. His more intimate nick-nacks and sticky notes had been scattered around what is now Stan’s room. Along with his random mismatched socks and sweater vests, and his cologne. And he didn’t want to think about having her live around the last remnants of Stanford, because she got this weird look in her eyes already when she retraced his brother's writings and he couldn’t stand it. He had lived with Stanford for eighteen years, and sometimes entering the room was at least therapeutic. 

Except Stanford always had a weird affinity for sleeping on the ground. 

It’s the main reason Stanley even had the top bunk during their preteen years to begin with, because Stanford would find himself stiff on the floor most mornings. His brother had a tendency to doze away on any hard surface he could rest his head on, starting at his desk most nights, moving to his bed, but usually rolling off it in favor of the floor. Stanford was… not one for restful sleep. And his hard ass mattress showed it. 

“Ya.” Stan muttered behind the newspaper. “‘Ford trying to fuck my back up from another dimension.” 

“You can have my bed?” She offered up her own mattress, one she had splurged on with her own money. He still remembers her playing Goldilocks that day at the flash mattress sale she had circled in the classifieds the week before. 

He shook his head at the memory, them both laying side by side on each bed as she had discussed odds and ends. She had argued that she needed approximately 5 minutes on each mattress to sink into each, and that she couldn’t be intrinsically thinking about her comfort when doing so. So she had him lay beside her and talk to her, as she flipped from her back to her side testing out her comfort and considered the gravelness of his voice. Until she had landed on the right bed, the tenth one, declaring it her perfect match as she looked over at him beside her. 

“Nah, I can’t take your perfect match, hun, your one true love.” He joked, folding up the newspaper with the comics up, setting it aside in favor of looking at her. “Besides my bed is fine for now. I just… sometimes I like being close to the door.” 

She hummed. “I can rearrange the living room today? Do you want to move your bed downstairs?” She hadn’t even questioned it, still searching for something to sate his comfort. 

He laughed at this, he would never let her rearrange things without him and she knew it. He had hovered something harsh those first three months, moving around most things for her as she pointed from object to object. 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I just, I ain’t used to sleeping in a room without a straight way out of it yet.” He admits, munching on his bacon, shrugging like he was discussing the weather. “So sometimes I just, sleep on the couch. No big deal.” 

She sits back in her seat, shock marring her face. He had spent so long hopping from place to place she had forgotten he hadn’t had a place to call home in a decade- besides his car. Something that may have four walls, but had no heart. 

Hotels, to cars, to floors of shelters, he had slept in questionable places for far too long, and in some cases Stanford’s room sometimes felt like a new prison, or at least reminded him of a certain Colombian one. Except this one contained taunting memories and a stupid amount of sweaters. 

It hurt more, to open his door to find hers closed, for some reason. He didn’t like the thought of her trapped either, nestled in a part of the house he couldn’t get to. But he didn’t know how to voice this to her without sounding mad in a way. Or obsessive maybe. 

She digs her toes into the junction of his ribs, grabbing his attention. She’s smiling across from him, and standing before he can ask why. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him up the stairs to their own parallel doors, not even hesitating to walk through the door Stanford used to call his own. 

She’s muttering under her breath as he stands in the doorway, landlocked by witnessing her in this exact space for some reason. She moves to the window, opening it all the way and fumbling with the screen. She gets it off and makes to climb out the window before he can protest. 

“If you want a way out, you got it right here!” She grunts, footing her way through to the shingled roof, his protests falling on deaf ears. 

“Get the fuck back in here!” He leans out, making to grab her. “Ain’t no way this shack's roof is any good!” 

She prances around, slightly mocking him by moving away from his waving arm. “Stan! It’s fine!” She laughs, the sun shining on her figure. Suddenly serious she stops, hands on her hips. “Seriously, if you need a way out, keep the window open, okay?” 

She crawls back through the window a moment later, using Stan’s hand as a weight as she balances back on the wooden floor. 

Still serious, she continues, “Stan if you need to keep the window open, you can keep the door open also if you feel like it.” 

She smiles like she has a brilliant idea, moving across the hall she opens her own room to display her own mess of things. “I can keep mine open also if it helps.” 

How the fuck had she read his mind? He was continually dumbfounded by her unquantifiable amounts of patience she had for him. Like it was a reserve she tapped into, to specifically deal with all his dumb bullshit. He would let it pile in the back of his head, but she’d reach back in and shake him awake, present him with a solution, and he forgets himself in his need to question “why?”. 

He had taken too long to respond, and she stands in the hall, hands wringing her too large t-shirt and looking surprisingly bashful. “Is this okay?” She asks, is this what you need? Vying for his approval as she continues. “Because really I don’t mind you sleeping on the couch, I really don’t, you can keep doing it if you like! Really! I just… I just…” 

Unspoken between them, he already knew. She meant well, she meant the best actually. She wanted him to be comfortable, here, with her. Wanted him to stop moving from place to place in the house because no where felt right because it all felt like a trap. Wanted him to know the four walls they shared could never be a prison, and that she didn’t want him to hop around anymore searching and clawing his way out of it. To not have to Goldilocks around the house, because across the hall from her had to be just right. 

And it was. Because she had read his mind as usual, and he was almost tired of being absolutely astounded by it. 

He nodded, smiling across from her, his confirmation in the squeeze he gave her hand as he reached for her again, and in the ruffling of her hair he gave her as he slipped from the house later. Making his way outside to his work, somehow lighter than usual.

They ended up on the couch most weekends, or at least most Saturday nights. 

She had insisted, against his better nature, that it was not appropriate to drink yourself into a stupor on a weekday. So he had gotten used to the shared moments on the weekend, routinely looking forward to shitty VHS movies and even shittier boxed wine and beer. 

She laughed at fucking everything when she was drunk. He almost wondered if she had ever been high, or if she even needed to be. He might as well be a stand up comedian most weekends, because if he thought he had a great audience Monday through Friday, well he had an even more endearing one on the weekends. 

It was a hot July night, and she had scoffed at his light beer that resided in the back of the fridge. Tisking at him as she danced around the kitchen, pouring sweet red wine into mugs (their only cups), and shooing him back to the couch. Only wine in the summer, only wine when it was this hot.

And it was hot, and humid, unsurprising for Oregon really. So hot in fact, that she had decided pjs were appropriate attire for the night, luckily for him. So he shed his jeans in favor of loose boxers and a well worn shirt. Unluckily for him, she had decided upon much the same wardrobe, which was odd for her and only uncomfortable for sober him. 

But he wasn’t sober anymore, and he had to admit she was rather enchanting hunched over on the couch, laughing at his shitty jokes with one of his old band t-shirts on, shorts that she made no indication of even owning, bagging up around the tops of her thighs. 

He had been intoxicated on numerous amounts of things, nothing, of course, too hard or addictive per say, but it’d be the first time he was this drunk on wine. 

And it was… different. 

He had scoffed at the movie she chose originally tonight. She always chose the second movie, and he chose the first. They had a habit of in depth discussing during films, especially when more intoxicated. 

But he had never been so incredibly invested in a romantic comedy in his entire life, he blamed his company and the alcohol. 

“I can’t believe that he thinks he stands a chance with the likes of her! She’s sacrificed so much! Her jobs on the line here and he won’t even consider marrying her for a green card!” He yelled, just about jumping at the screen. This man in the movie was ridiculous, demanding things from his assistant and throwing her away the next. 

She ran back into the room, mugs full with their next round. She had become the bartender tonight, waiting on him and grabbing snacks when he’d ask in exchange for rubbing her aching shoulders. 

“What did I miss!” She rushed back, handing him his mug and taking her seat back in front of him on the floor, her throw blanket being used as a cushion. 

He takes a sip, setting the mug aside her own on the floor and moving back to place his hands on her tense shoulders. 

“She’s being kicked out of the country right in front of her boss and he ain’t gonna do anything about it! She basically does everything for this man, why doesn’t he see he needs her?” 

She groans below him, her head rocking back as she takes her own drink. “Are we gonna discuss the intricates of them having a relationship though? I love marriage of convenience, don’t get me wrong, but that’s her boss! Isn’t there a weird power dynamic here?” 

“Oh ya!” He agrees, nodding along as his fingers began to dig into her muscles. “We gotta talk about that because if this gets creepy we gotta pick out a different one. He’s already pissing me off!” 

She looks up at him, eyes glowing with an idea. Enchanted, she moves away from him, crawling to the cabinet beside the T.V., and he really swears that he tries to look away. But he also reasons that it’ll be a while before he gets the chance to see her in shorts again. And fuck. 

She turns back, a new VHS in hand. “This!” She exclaims. “Now this is my favorite rom-com!” 

A shitty picture is well worn on the front of the movie sleeve, a VHS he doesn’t recognize from the donation bin sitting in her hands. She must have brought it with her, and she must have had it for a while. 

She crawls forward, movie in hand and a bright, flushed smile on her face. 

“Please, please, please Stanley! This one!” She all but yelled as she leaned up into him. His legs had already been parted to accommodate her sitting in front of him, but now were warm with her torso between them, as she crawled into his lap, movie still in hand and smile still on her face. She leaned up onto his chest, a fake pout on her lips as she looked up at him. 

He forgot himself for a minute, excusing her silently for calling him Stanley in her drunken plee. His hand finding her waist as he answered. 

“Okay, okay!” He snorted. “Better be a better love interest because this guy sucks.” 

He missed her as soon as she left, but his heart still felt something sick when she yelled victoriously on the ground, hand raised in celebration, movie clutched to her chest. Rolling from her current position to the VHS player and popping out the current horrendous movie. All the while she giggled, and he followed in much the same manner. Laughing while running his hand through his hair, trying to soothe himself to forget her warmth. 

She crawled back to him (fuck) settling back into his knees from her position on the ground. The title screen flashed, but he was much too busy watching it illuminate her face. Heart sick again when she leaned her head all the way back, hair across his knees and thighs, she smiles up at him, a thank you on her lips. Clutching his mug in her hands, bringing it to her lips for a sip before passing it up to him too. 

And when he carried her to bed that night he wondered when the tight sickness would leave him. He never closed either of their doors. 

It didn’t happen like this, that night. 

Not from what he could remember anyway, but he felt too groggy to care about accuracy and too intoxicated by the image of her to care much for what was right. 

Her hands had continued up his thighs from her place knelt in front of him, his back hot against the living room couch. She had climbed up on top of him, creeping up to sit on his knees and thighs like she had been there before. Her smile turned sweet into something twisted as she leaned in close to his face, the closest she had ever gotten to it. Whispering something between the heat between the two of them, something lost on him, as he tried to lean closer, tried to bridge the gap between their chests, aching to feel her against the very front of him. 

He knew it was different because she had never worn this in front of him before, at least willingly. He had caught her in the middle of the night, stumbling from her open bedroom door to the bathroom down the hall, panties striped and endearing on her ass. He had seen them in the washer, had seen her fold them and tuck them away. And she was in them, sitting on his fucking lap. 

His hands made for her, reaching behind her and dragging her close, his fingers edging the back of the band of her striped panties. 

She gasps like she does when she’s happy for him, always jumping from her position on the couch cheering along with him when he gets a stupid fucking The Price is Wrong answer right. 

And it’s how he imagined it, fuck, how he was currently dreaming of her noises. In bits and pieces he could remember, his brain scrambling to paint an image of her wanting him.  

Her hands edge along the back of his head, running through his long hair, and tracing to the front along his jaw. Mouth open, her fingers glide along the bottom of his lip, teasing. 

She whispers again, closer now. Her chest heaving against his own, her ass waits precariously positioned above right where he dreamt of her being. Right along the space he places her feet every morning, right where he thought she may kill him.

He catches it this time, between them. Her voice wavering like it had that day in the car when she had apologized for calling him him. He thought of begging for it, allowing her to say his name, but she had read his mind like she always fucking managed to do. 

“Please, Stanley.” 

He had surged forward like his own tidal wave, meeting her in the hot space between them. But he could only imagine a kiss with her, dream of it here. 

He imagined it slow, and building. Imagined her hesitation and the pout of her lip between his fucking teeth, imagined her moan when he eventually came back for more. 

Her hands pulled at his fucking hair, the only time she had placed them there to harm, and he groaned as she pulled him forward, meeting again in the middle of the heat they shared there on the couch. She moaned, her hips rushing to his own, making a new heat between them. 

The friction between them was the same as the kiss, slow and building. Grinding herself in the curve of his lap, right where they both needed each other. Every pass slightly faster, every groan from her more imagined, more unreal. 

The pressure felt real though, and her fingers in his hair felt even more so. His head thrown back on the couch, he looked down his nose at her, a groan leaving his throat as she makes a home in his shoulder, as her hips cause waves against his fucking lap. 

Her breath is hot on his neck, something real, and her echoing noises move up his shoulder to his ear and it makes him hotter than he could imagine. Her groans come to a precipice, getting higher in octave and volume and she thinks to fucking bite him there, right on his shoulder. 

The image she makes shakes him, his hands remembering where they are on her ass and hips, as he makes to work them harder, to somehow bring her closer and harder to the crook of his boxers. Her teeth nestle into him, and it makes him groan more, her hot breath and aching moans reverb off his skin back to him. 

It sends him reeling forward, his own head rushing off the back of the couch, groaning in heat, moving in blind passion. His head rests against the top of her own, his big hands digging into the fat of her behind, finger creeping in through the top of her panties. 

“Fuck.” He groans between them. “Fuck, honey.” His hips canting up, her moans echoing again, her teeth unlaching, like she can’t ground herself to him anymore, because all the movement is him now. He’s fucking using her, the pressure hot, and she peels back to look at him, a heat in her eyes he can’t have imagined. He must have seen it before, marring her face. He had, he swears, seen her with this heat in her eyes before.

He was using her. 

It stops just as abruptly as it began, and he wakes to his discomfort. His room is cool despite the morning sun, the curtains by his windows billowing out with September wind. His door wide open, and his hand curled around something that no longer needed relief. 

His other hand, clutching his hair in a fist. The back of his head tender from the pressure, and his fingers heavy from sleep. 

He got up quicker than usual, his heart still pounding oddly in his chest as he attempted to catch a breath he didn’t remember losing. On his way out of his room, dresssed for the day, he peaks into her parallel room, her door wide open like it was every day now. 

He groans low, she’s wearing the fucking stripes. 

He tries not to think about it the rest of the day, tries not to be disgusted with himself, but his chest aches something odd and his stride is somehow uneven for the rest of the day. His heart carries something sickly when he sees her that day, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt he’s oddly quiet that day, or that he doesn’t read her the morning comics like usual. 

She thinks it has something to do with how flushed he is, when she catches his staring that evening, as they sit beside each other on the couch, T.V. echoing in the background.

[mosswiind]

RANKING THE VEILGUARD COMPANIONS AS SPICY PARTNERS

This is definitively correct and I will not be accepting feedback.

In seventh and last place, we have our sweet boy Lucanis.

He's so into you. Spite is at least the same amount of into you. Lucanis though, is wildly inexperienced. Dude blacked out seeing Rook of any gender without a top on. A single titty would put this man in the hospital.

As a person who has slept with a lot of people, enthusiasm does not always compensate for skill. Lucanis would be very sweet, and apologizing because this has literally never happened to him before.

In sixth, we have Bellara.

Bellara is wonderful! But, similar to Lucanis, she's pretty inexperienced, and not in a position to acquire more experience without Rook’s involvement. She did date Irelin, but Irelin also doesn't give "exciting spicy partner" vibes. I feel like she would be enthusiastic about figuring out what you both like! It would just take some time to get there. She would also be very open to using magical aids. Electrical magic? Hell yeah.

She's also absolutely a bottom and if that's a consideration for you, she would be very good at it.

In fifth, we have Harding.

Harding is one long conversation away from being down for some Actual Freak Shit. She's already down, she just doesn't know what to ask for.

HOWEVER. Harding has precisely zero game, so it may feel a little silly while y'all figure your stuff out.

It will be good, it will also be clumsy and sweet.

In fourth, Taash.

Taash is similar to Harding, but has more sexual experience. They are also a confirmed top. Those are rare! They are coded to feel like they're in their early twenties, and extremely athletic, so stamina would not at any point be an issue. I've seen some comments that their bluntness would be bad for dirty talk/having game - those people didn't have to take a minute to do some deep breathing after the Taamlok scene, and also do not have taste. Taash will break you in half in a good way. Taash is a capital T Top and honestly, I respect it.

In third, Davrin.

Davrin, in a different group, would be the top pick. He's cocky, confident, has game for days. He's not a snack, he's a meal, and he is very aware of that. In my experience, banging Extremely Hot Dudes can go one of two ways; it's either sex you will wake up thinking about ten years later, or it will be like, extremely mid. I have faith in his ability. He is also a top, but I feel like he would also be into another top so there's a Fight (America's Next Top Model theme plays).

Thrill of the chase, indeed.

In second, Emmrich.

I know Emmrich is a canonical sex god. I know a bunch of y'all are extremely horny for Dr. Hose Goat. He caught me on the back foot a couple of times.

I also understand that this is a community that is very into Hot Authority Figures Who Remind You To Drink Water. There's a top shortage. I know what you people are like. I get it.

In first, it's the internet's wife, Neve Gallus.

Neve reads people for a living. She's also hot, emotionally unavailable, and would rather make out than acknowledge she has Actual Human Feelings. She's so locked into everything going on around her that she knows what you want before you do.

She's also creative at problem solving - no good surface? No problem. Just...not her desk, probably. There's a lot of notes to get displaced, and she has a hard enough time with the wisps. She will not allow your dumb ass to be too horny for organization.

Also - frost magic for you sensory seekers, and the ability to slow down time. I feel like we're all on the same page about the possibilities.

Your brain will melt out of your ears. You will not be able to stand. For days, potentially.

She's also a switch, depending on the vibes presented.

Emotionally unavailable romantics will ruin your life.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Blind Date

Pairing: Bodyguard AU!Bucky Barnes x Event Planner!Reader

Warning: Slight insecurity about appearance (No specific features mentioned), Drinking Wine Mentioned, Event Planning job mentioned briefly, nothing else I can think of.

Summary: Natasha set you up on a blind date with a friend of hers. When you first see him, Bucky doesn't seem all too happy to see you. Will things change throughout the night?

*Not Proofread*

No Specific Body Type (Plus size Friendly)/Race mentioned

I knew this blind date was a trap the second I walked in and saw the guy looked like he could bench-press my car and hadn’t smiled in his life. 

Natasha forgot to mention that not only would I be going out with one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen, but also that the man would rather be anywhere else at the moment.

I feel the mans eyes on me as I walk closer to the table. Is it too late to run? Avoid the disaster that’s possibly about to take place. Am I not what he was expecting? Was he hoping for someone else?  Am I too much? 

It’d be rude if I just left as soon as I saw him. All I can do is try to make the night enjoyable. If it doesn’t work out, that’s okay. I’ll be okay. 

I offer the man a small smile the closer I get. "Hi. Are you Bucky?" I ask. 

The man offers a tight lipped smile, standing up as I approach. He extends his hand. "Yes, and you’re Y/N?"

I nod, grateful he’s polite. "I am." I take his right hand, it’s firm and warm. His handshake is confident, like he knows who he is. Out of the corner of my eye, a small light flashes. When he sits down, I notice the metal hand in place of where his left hand should be. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I pull my eyes away from his hand. 

The table is beautifully set, candlelight flickering soft across polished silver. I press my hands together in my lap, hiding my fidgeting fingers under the white cloth. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable exactly, just... expectant. I decide to break it. "So, Natasha tells me you work as a bodyguard?"

Bucky nods slightly. "Yeah, I work for Citidel Security."

A waiter glides in and places a glass of water in front of me. I thank him quietly and take a sip, grateful for something to do. "That’s exciting," I try again. "You must see a lot of action with that."

Bucky flips open his menu, his dark blue eyes scanning over the wines. His voice is low and calm. "Enough to keep me busy."

He glances up, one brow slightly raised. "You work in events, right?"

"I can barely keep up with emails at my job," I ramble, hoping to fill the silence. "Half the time I’m one coffee away from a breakdown and the other half I’m gluing rhinestones to props and bribing printers to work. It’s chaos. But fun chaos."

"Yeah, kind of." I nod. "I coordinate staging for performances. A lot of behind-the-scenes stuff. Stressful, but weirdly satisfying." I smile, self-deprecating. "Basically I herd adult-sized toddlers who think glitter is a personality."

There’s a beat of silence. He just looks at me, unreadable. Then he quietly responds. "That actually sounds really cool."

I blink.

 "Oh," I laugh softly, caught off guard. "Thanks. I mean, it pays the bills and makes for great stories. It’s stressful, but I have fun."

He nods once, then shifts slightly in his seat. "Do you like red or white?" he asks, gesturing to the wine list with his finger. "Figured I’d order a bottle."

I blink again, surprised by the thoughtful gesture.  "Oh, um… red. Unless you’re more of a white wine guy?"

"I’m good with red," he says, flagging the waiter with a short glance.

When he orders, it’s with quiet confidence. 

He doesn’t ask many questions-but he listens. I can tell. He lets me ramble on about work or my life. And even though I can’t quite read him, and his answers are short, there’s something steady about the way he looks at me. Like maybe-just maybe-this won’t be a disaster after all.

Over the course of dinner I can slowly see his stoic exterior begin to crack. It shows when he huffs out a quiet laugh or when a small smile tugs at his lips when I tell a funny story. Eventually he begins to offer a little more information. 

He tells me about his younger sister, who I can tell he absolutely adores by the way he describes her. He tells me about his best friend Steve, who got him into the bodyguard industry after his time in the military. And then he tells me about his little white cat, Alpine. 

"She’s adorable." I smile at the picture on Bucky’s phone. In the image, a white cat is curled up against the muscular chest of who I can only presume is Bucky. The cat is sleeping, obviously very comfortable around the man. "I love cats. I’ve never been able to have one, but I hope to someday." I return the phone to Bucky. 

"You’ve never had one before?" He takes a sip from his water. 

I shake my head. "My parents were allergic to cats growing up, so we never got one. My apartment now doesn’t allow pets. Although, that doesn’t really stop people from having them. I just don’t want to risk it and I feel like animals deserve security. I would hate to have a cat and then my landlord finds out and I’m forced to pick either moving or getting rid of it." 

Bucky hums in agreement. "I understand."

Dinner finishes faster than I had hoped. I’m starting to really enjoy Bucky’s company.

"One check or two?" The waiter asks, his eyes flickering between Bucky and I.

We both respond at the same time. 

"One."

"Ican pay for my dinner, if you’d like." I offer. "I can imagine this place is probably very expensive."

"It’s no problem, Doll." 

My stomach flutters at the sound of the pet name.

Bucky pulls his black leather wallet out of his pocket. "I picked the place. I knew the prices. I’ve got this." He takes the bill from the waiter’s extended hand, signing his name at the bottom.

I pull out some cash. "At least let me cover the tip." I go to hand the money to the waiter. 

Bucky hands the bill back to the waiter. "Already covered. Don’t worry about it. Save it for the supplies you’re future pet cat will need." His eyes glimmer in amusement. 

I sigh, shoving the cash back into my purse. "Thank you." I give him a small smile. 

"Of course," he says, leaning back slightly. "Wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you pay, would I?"

We gather our things and make our way to the restaurant entrance. Without a second thought, Bucky holds the door open for me. I can immediately feel the difference of the warm inside and the cold outdoors. 

"Do you want to walk around for a bit? There’s a park nearby." Bucky asks while shoving his hands into his pockets, catching me by surprise. He tilts his head slightly in the direction he wants us to go in.

 Maybe he liked spending time with me too.

"You’re not going to murder me, are you, Bucky? Because I have work tomorrow and so far it’s a shitshow." I tease slightly.

Bucky smirks, a small chuckle spilling from his lips. "Wasn’t planning on it. Not really my ideal first date activity."

"That’s a relief." I glance over at the man. The butterflies in my stomach reactivate when I notice he’s already looking at me-steady and quiet, like he’s been waiting for me to turn his way. "I’d love to walk around with you."

True to his word, we end up strolling along a winding path lit by dim lanterns and scattered stars. The air smells like damp earth and roses. 

"You know, you could’ve gotten a different drink tonight." I sneak a glance at him "I wouldn’t have been offended or anything." I think back to the still nearly full wine glass Bucky left at the table. 

Bucky shrugs. "Not much of a drinker anyways. Besides, you liked it and that’s what matters." Then, after a pause: "But maybe next time, I’ll show you my favorite drink."

My heart stumbles a little. I try not to smile too obviously. "Next time, huh?"

He looks over at me, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to count. "If you’re up for it."

"I’m definitely up for a second date."

For the first time tonight, Bucky fully smiles. "Great, uh, we’ll have to plan that then. You can pick the place this time."

"I have a few places in mind." I hum. I look up at the sky admiring the beautiful stars sprinkled around. "I’m really glad I came tonight. Truth be told, I was a bit nervous. I wasn’t sure if you’d like me…or how I look. I know sometimes I can talk a bit too much." I sigh honestly.

"I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I just…" Bucky bites his lip slightly before looking at me. He’s nervous. "I’ve never really been good at first dates. I don’t know what to say and so I just fall into this habit of being quiet the entire time. I started dating my previous girlfriend five years ago. When we broke up, I guess that awkwardness with first dates came back and so I’ve been hesitant to put myself out there. This is the first date I’ve been on in months."

I can see a subtle red tint cover his cheeks. It’s adorable. 

"Hey, it’s okay. I understand first dates are just awkward in general. And it’s got to be hard coming out of a long relationship like that. I appreciate your honesty." I catch his eye. 

Relief fills his expression. "Thanks."

"Of course." I smile warmly at the man. 

"And, just so you know," Bucky’s eyes scan my face, a small smile on his lips. "I love how you look. You’re beautiful. Natasha’s description doesn’t do you justice."

My breath catches in my throat. I try to shake off my flusteredness. "You’re not too bad yourself."

I’m so glad I listened to Natasha and came tonight.

----

A/N: I actually am going on a blind date in a few days (That's where I got the idea from), and I'm very nervous bc it's my first ever blind date. Hopefully it goes well!

[pen-and-umbra]

The second episode of the Remake, FF7 Rebirth, has proven to be a terrific experience thus far. SE obviously made a few big decisions here and there.

It is seemingly implied now that Jenova wasn't "brain-dead", and it is hinted that Sephiroth was addled during his breakdown.

It all begins with a strategically placed cut, when Sephiroth touches the door bearing the name Jenova and instructs "Cloud" to close the valve. The scene is merely functional for new fans, yet leaves a vacant space that Crisis Core players will quickly fill in with the inferred arrival of Genesis. Smart move that, leaving the interpretation to the player. Whether Genesis exists inside the Remake's continuity or not, the moment reads differently to each fan. Quite frankly, I was half-expecting “Cloud” to come across a banora apple, rolling on the floor, but I suppose that would be telling.

What's remarkable is that they give Sephiroth almost identical symptoms to those that Cloud has in the remake. Glitches and odd headaches superimpose themselves nicely over the original Crisis Core scene. And, as much as I loathe Tyler Hoechlin's acting in the game, he lends a tangible sense of rage to Sephiroth's disparaging remarks about Hojo and his experiments. You can hear the hatred, a touch of pity, and disgust directed at Hojo's work and the creatures he tortured. In Crisis Core, he refers to the test subjects as “abominations” with the same touch of bitterness.

Back to the point: glitches, pupil dilations, and headaches are visual cues for Jenovaroth's influence or proximity, as shown in the first part of the Remake. However, at this point, Sephiroth is still sane — cracking, but still himself — so the only agent who can exert influence on him is, well, Jenova.

Now, a widely established fan hypothesis maintained that Jenova was brain-dead or comatose. Bodily functions sustained, but brain activity plateaued. Rebirth, however, strangely suggests otherwise.

When "Cloud" returns to Sephiroth in the manor's basement for the second time, Sephiroth recites an excerpt from a journal purportedly written by Professor Gast: 

“The specimen, found in a strata dating back two thousand years, smiled with what could only be described as 'ethereal grace'… Though the truth eluded me at first, I later determined that she was an Ancient - or a 'steward of the planet', as they are referred to in legend”. 

Remembering the battles with Jenova Dreamweaver and Jenova Emergent, the creature is far from "graceful" or "ethereal". There is nothing graceful about her figure in the tube either, and she is not smiling. The game goes out of its way to lampshade the glaring contradiction by showing the flashes of Jenova’s fanged skull and grotesque body as Sephiroth quotes the passage. So how could Gast perceive her as such?.. The answer is most likely found in Jenova Dreamweaver's description given in Ultimania: the entity has the ability to induce hallucinations in individuals who come into proximity with it, which is further corroborated by Jenova Emergent description.

An ancient lifeform that Shinra Company has kept under strict confidentiality. Those who come into contact can have their conscience interfered as well as see illusions. Professor Hojo has dedicated half of his life to researching Jenova, and within the Shinra Company building's top floors lies a secret research center called the "Dome," where Jenova's cells are injected into lifeforms or machinery to conduct experiments. (Ultimania)

Gast even writes that “the truth eluded him at first”, but LATER he determines the specimen belonged to the race of Ancients, as if that answer was suggested. The implication is chilling: Jenova may have purposefully misled Gast in order to present itself as an Ancient. As Sephiroth later explains in the FF7Rb, Jenova is capable of seeing deep into one's soul and impersonating individuals you fear, love, or hate.

If ShinRA and Gast were determined to unravel the mysteries of Ancients and their Promised Land, it would make sense for Jenova to "scan" Gast and determine the best course of action: disguise itself as an Ancient in order to escape captivity in geological strata jail.

The scene in which Sephiroth reads Gast's notes is possibly the final time he is more or less himself, before Jenova's image intermingles with his for a brief moment. Again, I appreciate Tyler's voice acting in this particular section and the real rage he brought to it. Admittedly, I was concerned that with next-gen visuals, they would take a more gruesome approach, displaying Sephiroth conducting the Nibelheim carnage with sadistic pleasure, but they took a different route. Slow, zombie-like movements, and a glassy expression.

He speared the militiamen as casually as if he were spearing bugs, which is far more frightening from a narrative point. What jumped out was how they emphasized the possessed-like behavior: from snarling and flailing the book like a suffering person to an empty countenance and automaton-like strides, as if he was being beckoned. Which is what "Mother is waiting" implies.

The final segment of the Nibelheim flashback is likely the most essential as well. According to previous developer claims, Sephiroth's will took precedence over Jenova's, and he was in control — whether Jenova was brain-dead or simply of lesser willpower.  However, the Rebirth appears to suggest something different right off the bat. First, "Cloud" shouts, "I believed in you… No… Not you — whoever the hell you are!", highlighting the significant personality change and the resulting lack of recognition. But then "Cloud" sees Jenova's image superimposed over that of Sephiroth in a rapid, glitch-like succession.

In other words, he sees Jenova inhabiting Sephiroth's body as a vehicle to once again escape the confinements. Whatever that means, whether it suggests that Jenova is in control from the start, or whether Sephiroth is literally the greatest functional agglomeration of her cells, and therefore literally “becomes” Jenova. 

If Jenova's original body was severely damaged — either as a result of eons of incarceration or Hojo's tinkering — it stands to reason that, if she wished to carry out her plan, she would need a new body, one capable of moving at the very least. Perhaps Sephiroth, an able-bodied skilled Mako-infused fighter of considerable might, served as a better "vessel" than her original damaged one. 

But the crux of the matter lies elsewhere. The possibility of Jenova being conscious and influencing Gast is very terrifying. With the potential to affect others in close vicinity, she may have influenced the minds of the whole science team behind the Jenova Project, particularly those who had long-term contact with her tissue — Gast and Hojo. It could turn out that the whole idea to revive an “Ancient” was planted by Jenova in order to grow itself a powerful host. In fact, if it could "peer into one's soul," i.e. read minds and memories, it might have easily identified a pressure point to indoctrinate people who could forward her objective. It's one thing to inject tissue samples into an adult body; it's quite another to devise a plan to inject cells into a developing human fetus. Who knows. Perhaps Hojo is such an obsessed Jenova nutcase in large part because he fell under its spell; feelings of inadequacy and being overshadowed by his colleague may have offered a crack in his defenses.

One that Jenova easily took advantage of. After all, as Dirge of Cerberus implies, Hojo ended up implanting himself with alien organic material.

Again, Jenova's power to extract information from an individual when in proximity supports a bleak reading of the events leading up to Nibelheim's ransacking. A person who kept on carrying a photograph of his supposedly late mother and badgered others about his background, as suggested by Ever Crisis episodes, was literally wearing his weakness on a sleeve.

Perhaps the 30-something years of the Jenova Project were supposed to bring Sephiroth there.

Perhaps the chain of events had been nudged in that direction, starting from the very discovery of a derelict non-human lifeform. Nudged by an intelligence both cunning and incomprehensible. And that makes Jenova a much, much scarier presence in the remake than it was ever suggested in OG.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 7

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 6.2K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy

Author's Note: hello hello!! i hope you're all well! sorry (again) for taking so long to get this out, but i think i'm as happy as i can be with this chapter. it's not perfect and i'm worried it'll be boring, but i like it, i think! well, i had fun writing it at least, and i hope you have fun reading it! it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

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The alarm blaring in your ear felt foreign and your eyes were bleary as you blinked awake, vision slowly coming into focus. Momentarily, you forgot why you’d set your alarm, having gotten too used to sleeping in the past two weeks, but your senses soon came back to you. It was your first day back to the office after your extended vacation in place of a honeymoon. 

The idea of it made you laugh slightly, like there was ever a honeymoon in the cards for you, but you soon silenced when you remembered the past weekend. Yoongi and you had gone on a semi-date, which meant that you would probably end up dating, which would lead to marriage (even though you were already married), and then a real honeymoon? Your head spun, it was too early to be overthinking like this. 

You finally silenced your alarm, dragging yourself out of your warm duvet and shuffling toward your bathroom. Sleepily completing your morning routine, you got dressed for work and made your way downstairs. You usually neglected breakfast in favor of a small snack before lunch at the office and you smiled at the kitchen counter, seeing a small container of riceballs that Mrs. Lim had likely prepared for you. You could hear her puttering around in the far room, seemingly doing laundry.

You grabbed the container, slipping it into your tote bag, and began walking to the door, before startling at Yoongi’s voice coming from the top of the stairs. 

“Y/N, wait a second,” he called, making his way down the stairs, “Want to go to work together?”

Your eyebrows raised at the suggestion, not even realizing he was still at home. Home? You supposed it was your home now. You weren’t sure when you had started to refer to it that way. 

“Sure, but I usually take the bus,” you responded, watching him gather his things and approach you at the door. 

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, slightly breathless, “That’s fine. I can take it with you.”

You thought for a moment, the Min Industries building was a block or so down from your own office, so you figured it should work out. 

“Okay, then I’m ready whenever you are,” you mentioned. Yoongi nodded, slipping on his shoes, “Let’s go.”

The two of you made your way to the bus stop in a comfortable silence, enjoying the bustling scene of a morning in Seoul. When you both reached the bus stop, Yoongi spoke up, “Do you have any specific plans this week?”

You closed your eyes, racking your brain, “No, not really. But I’ll probably working a lot of overtime since I missed two weeks.”

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, “That’s unfortunate.”

You smiled, turning to face him, “I’ll find some time for us to hang out, promise.” You brushed a stray hair off his forehead, making his eyes widen and his head quickly turn away.

You giggled softly, apparently you still had it. It was kind of fun to flirt with him. 

The bus soon arrived and you entered, scanning your card and making your way down the aisle before hearing the bus driver’s stern voice ring out. 

“Sir, your transportation card?”

You turned to find Yoongi with a confused look on his face, seemingly at a loss at what the bus driver meant. The scene made you shake your head and smile, reaching over to scan your pass once again and bowing an apology to the bus driver. You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist, tugging him to one of the empty pairs of seats and gently guided him into the far one by the window. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve never actually taken the bus before.” He scratched the back of his head, you could see his ears tinging red. You squeezed his wrist before letting go, “It’s alright, I’d figured as much. It’s kind of nice to have company on the morning commute.”

Yoongi sent a gummy smile your way making you exhale harshly, it felt like one of the first real smiles you’d seen of him and it was breathtaking. His hard edges and steely eyes softened, it was a sight you wanted to imprint on your mind. You distracted yourself by opening up your phone and scrolling through some recent texts, feeling Yoongi’s presence boring into your own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi take one last glance at you before grasping your hand in his own and entangling your fingers. It caused you to look up at him but he was already turned, facing the window, fingers still tightly gripping your hand. 

You felt the heat spread on your face but you settled into it anyway, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s palm against your own. The rest of the ride to your stop was largely silent, with you focused on the warmth emanating from Yoongi’s hand. You felt like a teenager with a crush. You were just holding hands! What was the big deal? Yet, it still felt like one. 

The scenery caught your attention when a cafe you frequented flew by, signaling that your stop was next. Yoongi seemed caught in the view from the window so you drew his attention by tugging gently on his hand, still flush against yours. He looked over at you questioningly before you started rising out of your seat. The bus came to a slow stop and you gently pulled him to the door, scanning your card twice quickly and exiting with Yoongi close behind. 

As the two of you stood on the sidewalk, you were unsure of where to go from here. Your office would be in the opposite direction from his, so it seemed that this was where you split ways. Yoongi didn’t seem to realize this as he began walking to his office, stopping when he felt the resistance from your hand, as you stood in place. 

He turned, ears tinged pink, “Oh, right, OK is that way. I guess this is goodbye.”

You smiled, untangling your fingers from his, “See you at home, Yoongi.”

His mouth parted before breaking into a small smile, “See you.” 

You turned quickly, feeling your cheeks warm, and started walking quickly to your building. All you did was ride the bus with him, yet it felt exhilarating, what was happening to you? You were supposed to be just friends right now, you couldn’t afford to fall this quickly.

Well, you supposed that nothing was really stopping you but yourself, but you still had your principle! You had to hold steadfast, you were the one who’d asked to start as friends first after all. 

Feeling your phone buzz in your hands, you glanced down to catch Namjoon’s name in your notifications. You opened his message while navigating through the crowds on the sidewalk, fantasizing about the iced tea in the cafe in the lobby of your building. 

From: Kim Namjoon

Good morning, Y/N-ssi! I managed to get tickets to that art gallery we were talking about, I stayed up almost all night, but it was worth it! I’ll send you the details when I’m more coherent, have a good day at work!

You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick confirmation and well wishes for his sleep schedule. As you pushed open the doors to your office building, the cafe stationed off to the right felt like a beacon in the bustling morning office rush. The barista, Junmi, greeted you warmly as you approached the register, “Hi, unnie! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you on vacation?”

You shot her a conspiratorial wink, “Something like that.” She rung up your order, knowing it by heart by now, and held out her hand for your card. You handed it over while your eyes raked over the bakery display next to the counter, but you knew you already had the riceballs Mrs. Lim provided. No way you can justify another purchase, even if it was for the softest looking croissant in the world. 

“Unnie,” Junmi exclaimed, startling you from your bread infused daze, “Your ring! Did you get married?”

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, I did.”

“Wow, congratulations! Here, have a croissant, on the house. That’s so exciting! You’ll have to show me pictures sometime,” she smiled, handing you back your card before turning away to prepare your drink. 

As you walked past security gate toward the gate, awkwardly scanning your badge while balancing your breakfast, you took your first bite of the warm and flaky croissant. It seems like this marriage had more perks that you’d initially given it credit for.

Sitting down at your desk was a relief after navigating your curious and energetic team. You’d fielded questions about your marriage as much as you could, but you still ended up showing them a picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent you from the wedding. Your team had commented on how handsome he looked and how happy they were for you, and from there, the energy calmed down some, with some members returning to their seats. 

The excitement had left you feeling conflicted, staring down at the picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent. He looked handsome, definitely, his eyes were dark and piercing and his slightly tanned skin looked soft and smooth. You hadn’t realized how pinched together his eyebrows had been during the ceremony, or how bitten his lips looked. You swiped to the next picture in your messages with Joohee, seeing yourself and Yoongi during the reception. You both looked tired and miserable, making you frown at your phone. You kind of wished that you had a nice picture of you and Yoongi to show other people. Something to show when people like Junmi asked, one that made you look like a happy couple. You knew that Yeonsik had a stupidly cute picture of himself and his boyfriend as his phone’s lockscreen, and it made your stomach clench with envy. 

Maybe you should bring it up to Yoongi?

No, it was much too soon, you shook your head, dismissing the thought. 

Turning off your phone, you logged into your computer, seeing the number of unread emails rapidly increasing. You sighed, slipping on your headphones and starting some jazz so you could focus. 

Combing through the mountain of emails was tiring, but one caught your attention, even as your eyes glazed over. 

From: limheesungmarketing1@okgaming.com

RE: Influencer Campaign MIRA’S AWAKENING

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided to pursue Jeon Jeongguk (user/sns:goldenboy97) as one of the main influencers for MIRA’S AWAKENING’s campaign. We have been communicating with him about ideas for the campaign and decided upon the following:

Early access - stream upon release day

PR merchandise - we are confirming designs with Graphics 2

Vlog/tour of OK Gaming on August 25 - this will include a tour of Planning Team 1 office space. Please see attached for video appearance consent form for your team and have it submitted to me by the end of the week.

We will follow up with more information as we approach the filming date.

Thanks,

Team Leader Lim

You had to read the email twice before you fully understood the contents. Shaking your head with a smile, you forwarded the email to your team and grabbed your phone to text Jeongguk. 

To: Jeon Jeongguk

Are you invading my office for your vlog channel?

The reply came almost instantly.

From: Jeon Jeongguk

morning, noona!

you finally got the news, huh?

i’m so excited, i can’t wait to see you working!

we should get lunch or dinner together that day!!

any preferences?

don’t tell hyung though

can i get your opinion on what i should wear, i don’t really go to offices often lol

You set your phone down as the buzzing continued, trying to contain your laughter. The kid was so exciteable, but his energy was contagious. You decided to respond to him later as you heard the quiet ding of more emails coming in. A sigh escaped you, you had promised Yoongi to find time to do something with him, but taking off two weeks so close to the launch date of your project and at the tail end of beta testing had taken its toll. It was clear that you’d be working overtime for the next few weeks.

Leaning your elbows against the desk and taking your head into your hands, you rubbed circles into the sides of your head. Thinking about everything you had to do was leading to a migraine and a quick look at the clock revealed that only about an hour had passed since you’d gotten to work. You felt your body sag in defeat, hearing the pings of more emails coming in. 

Pressing your head against the cool feeling of your desk, you tried to distract your mind from the overwhelming mountain of work you had waiting for you. Naturally, your mind drifted toward the past weekend with Yoongi. You could still feel the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster weighing on your bones, but the uncertainty of what the future would look like with him felt like prinpicks against your fingers. This weekend had changed a lot for you, changes that you weren’t sure how to deal with. 

Yoongi’s new attitude was also confusing, even though you fully knew his intentions now. The shift from trying to dismiss any ambiguous actions from him and steel yourself against any romantic feelings of your own to full transparency of his feelings toward you and your obligation to externally reciprocate was difficult to adjust to. You had been playing it by ear so far, going for a risky flirt whenever you felt cheeky, but it still felt unnatural.

It was hard to put it into words, but it felt like you were uncomfortable around Yoongi. Maybe you were still upset with him for what transpired with Jimin, after all, it was not too long ago, only a couple days really. Or maybe it was for what he said at the gala, the way he had dismissed you still irked, making you bite the inside of your cheek. Or perhaps when he’d been an hour late to your meeting before you’d gotten married, showing up with mussed hair, hickeys, and the heavy scent of a woman’s perfume. 

You blew a short and aggressive breath out of your mouth, Yoongi had really been an ass. More than feeling upset with him, though, you felt more upset with yourself for caving so quickly. You supposed it wasn’t necessarily caving since you weren’t starting out as friends through your own insistence, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your feelings for Yoongi were annoyingly persistent and only getting stronger with his newfound feelings and confidence in them. 

Why couldn’t you be stronger?

It felt a bit pathetic. You’d thought that you were doing so well in closing yourself off from him, shielding your heart from, not only from his attractive looks and seductive gaze, but from his biting remarks and harsh glares. As it turns out, not only did you still end up feeling hurt, but you only deeper for him despite your best efforts. Were you really even preventing anything that whole time? You bit your lip, squinting to make out emails through your blurry vision. 

Were you in the palm of his hands since the beginning?

Did you ever stand a chance?

Was this relationship more unbalanced than you previously thought?

Your eyes closed in defeat, feeling your headache envelop the rest of your brain. You wished that you could level the playing field somehow.

The harsh blue undertoned light from your computer was aggravating your headache even more. To give your eyes a break, you took a look around your office space, seeing your teammates in similar condition to you. 

The past couple weeks had been grueling, finalizing the post beta testing debugs, a last minute story adjustment, a heavy debate on the use of a mechanic your team was pushing to keep after some confusion in beta testing, and wrangling the graphics team to confirm and pack the shipment of merchandise had taken a heavy toll on your team’s morale and energy. This was always the worse part of development and production.

You’d barely seen your home since your return to work, spending over twelve hours at the office, catching the last bus home, scarfing down a mediocre, store bought kimbap, and crashing on your bed or the couch, whichever one you made it to in time. 

You weren’t going to lie, you were a bit frustrated that you’d barely been able to spend any time with Yoongi in the past two weeks, but a part of you was relieved. Your emotional state still hadn’t fully recovered and you were relishing the opportunity to delay the inevitable as long as you could. Even so, waking up on the couch with a soft blanket thrown on you and your hair brushed away from your face made your heart ache. To his credit, he seemed to be an expert in tugging on your heart. 

He was understanding, at the least. Even though you barely saw him, any time you did, he wore an empathetic expression and quietly handed you a can of your favorite fruit juice from the fridge with a small smile. Yoongi hadn’t had any complaints of your constant late nights and occupied weekends, which, in your defense, had been unavoidable and continual.

Today was no different, despite it being a Friday, your team was still working late into the night. A yawn off to your right, courtesy of Song Ha, drew you out of your drowsy trance. You blinked a few times, feeling the world coming back into focus, and glanced at the time. It was approaching nine and you could feel that nothing else productive was going to happen today. Wiping your sweaty palms on your leggings, you stood, “Okay, everyone. Let’s go home for today, we’ve done all we can. I want you all to enjoy your weekend this time, so don’t check any emails. If it’s really important, I’ll call you. Go get some rest and be ready to kick ass on Monday.”

Your team stared up at you gratefully, seemingly rejuvenated. The packing up was quick and efficient, everyone more than ready to get out of the stuffy and dreary office. As you were packing up your own belongings, your phone buzzed with a message.

From: Kim Namjoon

Hi! I hope you’re doing well. I know your game is coming out soon so you must be busy, hopefully you’re getting enough rest!

Just a question about next Friday, would you like to head over to the gallery together? I can pick you up. Let me know when you can!

Oh, that’s right, the gallery that you were supposed to go to with Namjoon was coming up in a week. You had forgotten in the chaos of work, but you resigned to text him back later. Getting home was your top priority. Though, now that you were thinking about you, you had a nagging feeling that you’d forgotten something else.

You bent down in front of your desk to log out of your computer, catching a flagged email a bit further down in your inbox, referencing the filming day that was involving your team. Your fingers snapped automatically, that’s what it was! You’d totally forgotten about Jeongguk coming to film the behind the scenes and doing a segment with your team. Rapping your desk to catch your team’s attention, you quickly reminded them.

“Just a reminder, this upcoming Tuesday, we have the filming team coming in here with Jeon Jeongguk. I think all of you signed the consent form, so you can all come to work as normal, but just be prepared that they’ll be there. You’ll have a couple cameras around and they may pull you aside for some questions, but that should be about it. Have a good weekend, guys.”

A chorus of goodbyes and well wishes rang out from your team, followed by idle chatter as they made their way to the elevator. You sat back for a minute, deciding whether you should text Yoongi to say you were coming home early or not. Was this early? It was almost nine, but it was relatively early to when you had been coming home.

Whatever, you’d just go home. No point in texting when you’d be there in about twenty minutes anyway, what would texting change?

You hauled yourself to the bus stop, feeling the heaviness of the day weigh down your bones. You’d given your team the weekend off, but the same couldn’t be said for you. You knew plenty of managers in the corporate world who could leisurely take time off work and the productiveness of their team wouldn’t change, but your team was, unfortunately, not the same. Your weekend would consist of monitoring your email for anything urgent coming in and making sure other teams were on track for the upcoming release, but at least you’d get a bit of a break. It was a bit like being on call, but you didn’t want to think about it that way, it’d make the unpaid overtime a bit too real. 

The sound of the bus approaching made you jolt to attention, stopping for a moment to close your eyes and stop your head from spinning. You had forgotten to pick up dinner, but you’d make do. There must be something in the fridge, and if there wasn’t, you’d make for some emergency fried chicken delivery. 

The bus ride home was peaceful, to your extreme delight. Late Friday night bus rides ran the risks of drunk and rowdy businessmen, energetic and loud college students, and excitable high schoolers. Thankfully, the bus was quiet and serene, soon stopping near your apartment. The trek up to the building felt more taxing than usual, dragging your feet along the pavement until you reached the elevator. The cool feeling of the elevator walls against your forehead felt refreshing, at least, but you internally groaned when the doors slid open and you had to move your feet once again. 

The click of the door to the apartment unlocking felt like an angel’s voice, and you entered the apartment only to be met with five faces staring back at you. Your eyes immediately found Yoongi’s, staring at you, a bit surprised, but he sent you a smile. You returned it weakly before trailing your eyes over everyone else, finding Namjoon and Seokjin on the couch and Jeongguk and Taehyung seated on the floor around the coffee table, seemingly playing some low stakes poker. 

How could you forget that Yoongi has his friends over on Friday nights? The gaps in your memory were starting to grow concerning. 

You gave a half wave before awkwardly closing the door behind you. What did you even look like right now? Your team had given up on any sort of professional appearance once the overtime had started and your team routinely showed up in sweatshirts, sweatpants, leggings, or pajamas at this point. If someone was wearing the same clothes as the previous day, everyone else turned a blind eye. You were sure that your hair was a ratty mess atop your head and your overly loose sweatshirt was drowning you in fabric, likely making you look like a kid playing dress up. Your concerns over your appearance dissipated when you felt a body slam against yours in a hug, arms enveloping your waist. 

“Noona! Did you get back from the office just now? You’re working too late,” Jeongguk exclaimed, squeezing you before releasing his hold.

You laughed slightly, “Yeah, things are busy since the game’s coming out in about a month, and since you get early access, we have to work even harder.”

Your joke made Jeongguk frown slightly, “Maybe I’ll catch some labor law violations in the vlog and you can win big in a lawsuit.”

You chuckled, patting his shoulder, “I’ll file after I get my new year bonus.”

You began taking off your shoes, having to face the rest of the group, who all gave you warm smiles, Taehyung and Namjoon both sending you a friendly wave. Seokjin sent a stern glare in your direction, facing his vitriol on the oversized young man behind you, “Yah, Jeongguk, leave her alone, she only just got back. What vlog are you talking about anyway?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Jeongguk beat you to it, slinging his arms around you, a bit like a sloth hanging onto a tree, you noted.

“I get to hang out with noona all day on Tuesday since I’m filming a behind the scenes vlog for my second channel,” he responded, letting you go when Taehyung beckoned him over with the promise of a dangling chicken drumstick. 

Right, food. The chicken on the coffee table looked far too appetizing, but it felt rude of you to intrude so you tried to casually look away from it. 

“I didn’t know about that,” came Yoongi’s voice for the first time since you’d stepped into the apartment. It drew your gaze immediately, seeing a small frown on his face and furrowed eyebrows. Was he upset that you hadn’t told him? You suppose Jeongguk was his friend first.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you too much,” you said, trying to convey your guilt.

Yoongi shook his head, “Not your fault, you’d think that this brat,” he flicked Jeongguk’s forehead, who protested through a mouth full of chicken, “Would tell me that he was spending the day with my wife at work.”

Your chest bloomed at his choice of words, you’d rarely heard him refer to you as his wife, only at the reception of your wedding when talking to guests. Somehow, him using it now in such an intimate setting made your marriage feel all the more real. 

“Speaking of,” Seokjin interjected, “Isn’t your one month anniversary coming up? Are you guys doing anything fun?”

You and Yoongi both looked at each other, a bit at a loss for words. You hadn’t even thought about that, had it really already been almost a month? Somehow, it felt simultaneously shorter and much, much longer than that. You felt like you’d already spent a lifetime with Yoongi, but it’d barely been four weeks.

“I believe that’s on the same day as the gallery,” Namjoon said casually, snatching a small piece of chicken from Jeongguk’s clutches.

“Gallery,” Yoongi questioned.

“Oh, Namjoon and I are going to a gallery for an artist he introduced me to, we’d talked about when we met at that gallery a few weeks back,” you explained, trying to focus on the conversation and not how good the chicken looked. 

Yoongi seemed to be pondering his response when Namjoon caught your gaze on the food.

“Have you eaten yet, Y/N,” he questioned. 

You shook your head softly, a bit embarrassed that you were found out so quickly. 

“Join us,” Seokjin said, snatching the rest of the box from Jeongguk who pouted sadly, “You can have the rest of what’s in here and we can order more too.”

“No, you guys should eat that, it’s yours,” you insisted, feeling slightly childish with Seokjin’s suggestion.

“Jeonggukie ate most of it anyway, so we were going to need more,” Seokjin said, waving away your concerns, “We really need to start ordering multiple portions for him so he doesn’t eat all of it.”

You laughed and started toward the couch to join them, but took a quick glance at Yoongi’s expression to see if he was okay with it. The scene felt oddly familiar to you, reminding you of the last time you were invited to sit with them and you felt compelled to refuse.

Yoongi’s face looked unreadable, just like then too, but he seemed to be more deep in thought this time. He caught your gaze and smiled, though, nodding for you to join them. You gave a sheepish smile in response, making your way to the couch and sitting next to Namjoon, who had moved closer to the middle to make room for you. 

“Thanks, it’s been a long day,” you said, leaning into the soft cushions of the couch. You were going to have to be careful not to fall asleep, you were so used to collapsing onto this same couch after work. 

The food quickly arrived and the men continued to engage in conversation, making sure to include you, but you felt yourself getting drowsy. It seemed you had reached your limit when you felt your head bump into Namjoon’s shoulder in a sleep induced sway. You lifted yourself upright, blinking sleepily up at him, making out his soft smile, “Sorry, Namjoon-ah. I’m a bit tired.” You could hear yourself slurring your words. 

“No worries, Y/N, maybe we should get you to bed,” he responded, steading you again with a firm hand on your shoulder. 

If you had felt like a child earlier, you most certainly felt more like one now.

You felt Namjoon’s hands grasp your shoulders, gently lifting you to a standing position before a new pair of hands took over. 

“I’ll take her upstairs, Joon, can you make sure Seokjin doesn’t spill anything while I’m gone,” you heard Yoongi’s voice ask. Your eyes were barely open and your mind felt quite cloudy in your drowsy haze. Looking up at Yoongi, you caught his pensive expression before he looked down at you, sending you a small smile. He gently squeezed your shoulders and slowly led you up the stairs and to your room, you could distantly hear Jeongguk calling out a goodnight. 

You were barely conscious for the walk to your bedroom, feeling yourself lean against Yoongi for support. He patiently guided you, opening the door to your room and laying you down on your bed. Why did this feel familiar too?

Yoongi’s fingers brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of your face, you could feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your forehead. Almost asleep now, you barely registered yourself leaning into his touch as he brought his fingers around your face to cup your cheek. 

“Will you be okay sleeping in those clothes? Any makeup you have to wipe off,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. 

“No,” you mumbled, “I’m fine. Wanna sleep now. Goodnight, Yoongi-ah.”

You felt his thumb freeze its motions before he whispered back, “Goodnight, Y/N-ie. Sleep well.”

You were already asleep by the time he closed your bedroom door.

Yoongi felt conflicted over his newly realized feelings for you. In a way, it was freeing, being able to act affectionately with you without any ambiguity or restriction. Well, there were still some restrictions and maybe some ambiguity too. You were starting as friends, and Yoongi did think that was a good idea, he really did, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to go further with you. 

His hands constantly itched to take yours and his eyes were always drawn to your soft and gentle smile. You had been smiling a bit more since that fateful weekend, and Yoongi was enjoying every second of it. 

Though, there weren’t really that many seconds of it to enjoy, considering your hectic schedule since your date. You’d been cooped up at your office pretty much every evening, a feeling Yoongi was familiar with, so he couldn’t fault you. Every time he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you in the house, you were either sleeping on the couch, or tiredly eating at the table. Despite your haggard appearance and exhausted demeanor, you’d always managed to smile a greeting at him and apologize for being so busy. 

Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at your absence. Even though he was aching to be close to you and spend more with you, he knew your work was important and busy right now. Yoongi had to be patient, something he was not excited for. Your skin always looked too inviting, your lips too soft, and your eyes too alluring. He constantly had to reign in his wandering thoughts about you, even having to do a bit of overtime himself to make up for his distracted nature the past few weeks. 

Despite his growing attraction to you, whenever he laid eyes on your messy appearance with considerable eyebags adorning your sweet face, your lips forming a tired pout, in the multiple times he’d caught you sleeping on the couch when he went downstairs to check if you’d returned, his thoughts dissipated. You were clearly working yourself to the bone and Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop you, he’d been in your position multiple times. Sometimes, there was no other way around it. So he did what he could, a blanket covering your sleeping form, a small snack or candy slipped into your bag, or an extra serving of dinner waiting for you in the microwave, this was how Yoongi knew to show his love. 

Love? Was it? 

No, he didn’t think so. At least not yet. It was too early on to tell if he loved you, but he could feel himself starting down that path. He only wished that he could be in an actual relationship with you, though he knew why he couldn’t. His friends knew about the arrangement, he’d confided in Seokjin and Namjoon, but he hadn’t revealed his growing feelings for you, only that you’d decided to become friends. 

Maybe that had been a mistake, considering how close they seemed to be getting to you. Yoongi recalled how his friends had jumped at your presence when you’d entered the apartment. As he climbed into bed, he remembered how Jeongguk had stood excitedly at your arrival and immediately crushed you in an intimate hug. Had Yoongi hugged you before? He couldn’t remember, but it was all he could think about now. Jeongguk had mentioned that he’d be spending the day with you at work on Tuesday, Yoongi had never seen you in your office either. Suddenly, that single walk to work together all those days ago felt minimal compared to what Jeongguk was going to get to experience. 

You seemed to have grown close with Namjoon as well, Yoongi thought, remembering the way that Namjoon had smiled invitingly at you and the way you’d sat next him, bumping your head against his shoulder in your attempt to sleep. What was that? Yoongi felt restless, maybe he should’ve clarified his feelings to his friends so they’d know you were off limits.

Except, you weren’t. Yoongi knew that. He had no claim over you, he wasn’t your boyfriend, only your designated husband. Yoongi’s mind wandered back to the interactions between you and Namjoon, racing to analyze every interaction, despite his acceptance that it wasn’t his place. 

You seemed so comfortable with Namjoon, you’d even called his name so affectionately. Well, you’d said Yoongi’s name affectionately too, he gloated internally. That had been a sweet moment that he was going to treasure, you had been so placid and vulnerable, a side to you he hadn’t seen before. It had been hard to contain himself since he’d brought you to your room, feeling you lean against him and into his hand, he’d wanted to kiss you. 

But he knew better, he had to wait. Yoongi tried not to think about what would happen if you decided you only wanted to be friends with him and nothing more. He had already fallen so deeply for you. It was unexpected for him to fall so quickly and so hard, surprising even himself. You’d managed to wedge your way into his heart, making him uncomfortable, only to set up shop there and grow his fondness toward you. 

Yoongi’s mind drifted back to the earlier conversation, when Seokjin had mentioned your one month anniversary. Should he be planning something? He wasn’t sure. To be honest, he didn’t really want to celebrate your wedding day, it felt like it was yours. It was more for other people than anything. Not to mention, he didn’t want to call attention back to when he’d been acting so crassly. Yoongi cringed at the memory. 

Besides, Namjoon had mentioned that you two were going to a gallery that day. Yoongi was only slightly jealous, or that was what he was telling himself. Why did you have to have so much in common with his friends and be so personable? His envy grew at the fact that Namjoon would be spending so much time with you on your wedding anniversary, despite Yoongi’s earlier dismissal of it. How was it fair that the man you were spending your anniversary with wasn’t your husband, but his friend?

Maybe he should plan something for that day for when you come back from the gallery. The idea made him smile. He wanted to make it a special day for you, and with newfound determination to show up Namjoon, he would. 

previous / masterlist / next

[rkiveslibrary]

Chapter 3

Summary: You finally achieved your dream of writing and publishing a book and it goes well. It goes so well, your publisher wants you to write a second book. The only problem is the fans want it to be spicier and you have only had one very lackluster sexual partner in your life. Enter Kim Taehyung the cocky fuckboy of your past who is willing to lend a hand to a “friend” in need

Word Count: 6.2K

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (Side Jikook)

Rating: 18+ MDNI!!!

Tags: Porn with plot, POV switch, cute concerned Jimin, mentions of jerking off, mentions of past bad relationship, FWB situationship, nicknames, kissing, dry humping, moaning, boners, mentions of almost cuming in pants, Taehyung has a big dick

Authors Note: Where can I find me a Taehyung like this dear god

Thank you for reading! Likes and Reblogs are appreciated

Series masterlist

-------

“Okay, you can do this. People do this kind of thing all the time. It’s nothing to be nervous about; it’s all going to work out. You can do this!” You muttered to yourself as you ran your hands down your legs and let out a shaky breath as you checked the clock in your car.

You were starting to panic about the future of your book after your editor gave you some “helpful pointers” when she rejected your fourth draft for the spicy make-out scene between your characters.

She pointed out how it all felt very “vanilla,” and after drinking some wine and having a good cry, you decided to sign up for a dating app because what was the worst that could happen?

After swiping for over an hour, you matched with a guy who was tall, handsome, and totally your type.

After talking for two days, you told him you had never been in a friends-with-benefits situation before. He offered to take you out to dinner first to see if the two of you clicked.

That was why you were sweating through your dress in a sushi restaurant parking lot on a Friday night.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, startling you, and you grinned when you saw Mira’s message flash on your screen.

She was going to a tasting with Hoseok tonight for her wedding cake, but she was more than happy to be on call in case the date went south and you needed her to swoop in and come rescue you.

The clock showed it was five minutes to six thirty, and you figured being five minutes early wasn’t a crime, so you opened your dating app to see who you were meeting with one more time, but the weirdest thing happened.

No matter how many times you tried to refresh his profile, your conversation would not load.

You tried exiting out of the app and going back in, but it just wouldn’t load.

Which was weird.

Oh well, you had a good enough memory of his face to know who you were meeting with, so you decided not to stress about it too much as you took a deep breath, gathered your things, and headed inside for your date.

-------

“Come on, Jiminie, you don’t need me tagging along as your third wheel. I promise I’m okay not going.” Taehyung whined as he closed down his office for the day and gathered his things.

He balanced the phone against his shoulder and his ear as he struggled to get his coat on and tried to ignore the piles of work that were left over.

Oh well, that was next week's problem.

Taehyung waved to his coworkers and headed to the elevator, where he pressed the lower level button and listened to Jimin ramble on.

Jimin and Jungkook were going out to The Heat, which was the local club for people over twenty-five years old. It was Taehyung’s favourite spot to pick up chicks, as usually, they were around his age and over the phase of getting sloppy drunk and throwing up everywhere.

“Jimin, I know it’s my favourite, but you and Jungkook deserve a night out by yourselves. Believe me, I have the night planned!” He said as the elevator dinged, and he made his way across the almost empty parking garage to get to his car.

The sun was still shining, and after being in an office all day, Taehyung took the opportunity to tilt his face to the warm rays that shone through.

He found his car and unlocked it, throwing his briefcase in the passenger seat before climbing in himself and connecting his phone to the Bluetooth.

“Come on, Taehyung! It might be nice to get out on a Friday night. I know you had a hard week. Might be nice to relax.” Jimin whined as he put his car into drive and made his way home.

“Jiminie, I have plans. I’m going to order food, relax, and catch up on some shows. Believe me, that sounds more fun than pushing through sweaty bodies on the dance floor.” He tries to explain.

“If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly?” Jimin asks, his voice growing serious as Taehyung stops at a red light and lets out a weary sigh.

“I already know what you are going to ask me, and yes, Jimin, I am fine. I promise you.” He responds as the light turns green, and Taehyung takes the familiar path home.

“I know it’s just… Since when do you turn down a club night? You have been a hermit for weeks now, Tae. I’m just concerned; that’s all.” Jimin says, and Taehyung can’t really blame him.

He never turns down club nights.

He is always the life of the party.

Drinking, hitting on women, and having fun.

Taehyung did wonder if something was wrong with him. After his last fling, he wasn’t in a hurry to jump into a new one and ended up becoming more of a homebody.

Sure, he still talked to his friends, painted, and worked out, but jumping into another friends-with-benefits situation seemed like too much work for him, and he even went as far as to delete all the dating apps off his phone.

Taehyung also noticed other changes that were making him raise an eyebrow.

His sex drive had diminished quite significantly since.

He was still jerking off, of course, but he didn’t feel the need to have someone else do it; he didn’t even really miss the sex, as he was more than satisfied to get himself off with his hand whenever he felt the need to.

Taehyung gave himself another month.

If he was still in this funk after a month, he would go to a doctor.

Or maybe talk to someone.

“I know Jimin, but please believe me, I’m okay,” Taehyung said as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Are you sure? Like totally sure. You can tell me anything you know.” Jimin pushed as Taehyung let out a weary sigh.

“Yes, Jiminie, I promise I am okay. I’ll also go as far as to promise that I will come out next time you go to the club, okay?” He said as he pulled into the driveway of his house and put the car in park.

The sun was fading fast, and clouds were rolling in. Taehyung remembered hearing something about an all-night rainstorm, which was another reason he wasn’t keen on going out tonight.

After a few more promises that he was okay and an eventual goodbye, Taehyung pocketed his phone and headed inside his house.

He put his stuff where it belonged, ordered takeout, and made his way to the shower, where he stood under the spray for far too long, contemplating what Jimin had said.

He knew Jimin just cared about him.

That’s all.

But was it really that concerning that he wanted to stay home for one night?

Standing in the shower, wasting water didn’t give him the answers he needed, so he quickly got out and dried his body, slipping on some comfy clothes as he checked on his food to see that it was now only two minutes out.

Taehyung made his way downstairs just as it arrived and saw that the sky was a dull grey and storm clouds were rolling through.

He got everything set up in the living room and grabbed a comfy blanket to snuggle in while he ate.

The food was delicious, and Taehyung hummed happily to himself as he turned on the TV to get caught up on one of his shows.

After two episodes, rain began to smack against his window in heavy drops as it seemed the storm had finally arrived.

Taehyung felt full and sleepy, and the sounds of the rain were making his eyes droop. It was only six at night, but he felt like he could curl up and sleep until morning.

Maybe a nap would do him some good, so he shifted so he was now lying sideways on the couch with his feet hanging off the edge.

He pulled the blankets up to his chin and let the soft sounds of the rain lull him to sleep.

-------

How long did Taehyung nap for?

He wasn’t sure.

All he knew was someone was ringing the doorbell, and it was obnoxiously loud and woke him from his peaceful slumber.

Taehyung fluttered his eyes open and blearily looked around.

His house was dark except for the one night light in the hallway, and the storm must have picked up speed since he dozed off because the rain was now lashing at the windows angrily, and lightning was dancing across the sky.

The doorbell rang again, and Taehyung shot up off the couch, still a little disoriented from sleep, and made his way to the door.

A rumble of thunder shook his house, and Taehyung felt the hairs on his arms stand as he flung the door open and was met with the surprising sight of a woman standing on his front step.

But not just any woman.

It was you.

His eyebrows shot up, and he gripped the door to stop it from being taken by the wind.

You of all people were standing on his front step.

What the hell was going on?

Taehyung took in your appearance, your hair matted and soaked, your tan trench coat now a darker colour because of the rain, the way your mascara ran down your cheeks, and your eyes were rimmed red.

You’d been crying.

“Uh, hey?” He said slowly as a crack of thunder made you both jump.

“Hi, Taehyung.” You said roughly, clutching your coat around your soaked body.

“Uh. What’s going on?” He said, feeling stupid and slow, as he still didn’t make a move to let you in.

He should probably let you in.

But he was still in shock that you were here in the first place.

“Uh, can we talk? Maybe inside?” You asked timidly as his brain finally seemed to work, as he moved to the side to let you out of the cold and rain.

Taehyung left you standing by the door as he raced around, turning on lamps so you both could see. His heart was in his throat, and he felt his hands shaking slightly as he turned to face you again.

You were taking off your heels and shrugging off your coat, and Taehyung’s eyes widened when he saw what was under it.

“Holy shit, you look hot.” He blurted out before he could think, and a light blush coated your cheeks as you smiled shyly at him.

The dress was unreal.

A little black dress that hugged your curves perfectly and cupped your breasts in a way that made his cock stir under his pants.

Fuck.

You must have come from a date.

How bad did it go for you to show up at his place?

What happened?

You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he could see the goosebumps on your arms as you shivered in his doorway.

“Did you walk here? You’re soaked.” He asks, moving towards you as you brush your wet hair from your face.

“Uh, I parked down the street. I didn’t know if anyone was coming over tonight, and I didn’t want to take a spot in your driveway. I didn’t realize how far down I’d have to park.” You say, eyeing his place with a childlike curiosity as you shivered.

“Come on, let’s get you warmed up first.” He says as he leads you through his house to the upstairs, where the bedrooms and the bathrooms are.

Taehyung rifles through his things before pulling out a T-shirt, sweatpants, and socks, and hands them to you.

You graciously take them as you stand in the doorway like a deer in the headlights.

“The bathroom is right through there. Take a shower. Use as much hot water as you like. We can talk when you're done.” He says as you bite your lip and nod at him.

You hold the clothes to your chest like they are your lifeline, keeping you afloat.

Taehyung briefly nods before heading downstairs to give you some privacy, and his mind swims with possibilities.

Clearly, by the way you were dressed, you went out on a date.

As far as he knew, you had not dated anyone since your jerk ex-boyfriend.

Not that he kept track of those things.

So what happened tonight? Did the guy…hurt you?

Taehyung knew you had a solid group of friends, and he would never in a million years guess you would come running to him if something happened.

You just weren’t like that.

Taehyung grabbed his phone from the coffee table and quickly texted Hoseok, asking if he could call him ASAP.

The phone rang two minutes later.

“Hey, Tae! It’s Mira. Hoseok is driving right now. Everything okay?” She asked as Taehyung ran a hand through his hair and began to pace the floor.

He could hear the shower running, but he knew he had to be quick.

“Uh, hey Mira, you are actually who I wanted to speak to.” He said as Hoseok grumbled audibly in the background.

“Oh! Uh, okay, what’s up?” She asked.

“Do you know where your maid of honour went tonight?” He asked, still pacing the living room as the storm raged outside and the lights flickered.

“Uh, yeah, she had a date. Actually, she was supposed to text me an update, but I haven’t heard anything.” Mira said as he ran his free hand through his fluffy hair.

So it was a date.

“Taehyung, what did you do?” Hoseok asked.

Taehyung ignored him.

“And the guy she went with. Was he…decent? Good?” He asked as the lights flickered again.

“I mean, I guess? I saw his picture; he seemed okay. Why, what’s going on?”

Taehyung frowned. Not much to work with there.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave that poor girl alone Taehyung?” Hoseok scolded.

Taehyung ground his teeth as he spoke.

“I did leave her alone Hyung. She was the one to show up here, soaking wet from the rain and telling me she wanted to talk. I’m calling because I want to know what the hell is going on.” He snapped as the other end went silent.

“She… What?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung repeated himself a lot slower this time.

“Mira, do you have any idea what’s going on or what this is about?”

“I…uh. I didn’t think she? I mean, I suggested… But I didn’t think she would actually… Oh my god.” Mira babbled as he heard the shower stop, and his heart began to race in his chest.

“Shower turned off, I don’t have much time. Help me here, Mira.” He asked.

“Shower? What is she doing in your shower?” Hoseok asked.

“She was wet and shivering, so I made her take a shower so she would warm up.” He explained.

“Okay, listen, Taehyung.” Mira started.

“I can’t tell you why she’s there. It’s not my story to tell, and I don’t even know if I’m right. But if I am…promise me you will go easy on her. No joking, no making fun of her. Hear her out, okay?” She asked as Taehyung grumbled.

He wasn’t getting answers and was becoming even more frustrated.

“That’s all you got for me? Come on, Mira! Help a guy out.” He pleaded, now feeling panicked.

He could hear Hoseok muttering in the background, asking what was going on, and Taehyung realized this must be some weird girl thing if Hoseok was also in the dark about it.

“Just go easy on her. That’s all I can tell you. Sorry.” Mira said as his ears picked up the telltale sound of the bathroom door opening.

Time's up.

“Okay, fine. Got to go.”

He hung up the phone and stopped pacing to sit on the very edge of the couch. His mind and his nerves were racing, and Taehyung sucked in a breath.

He didn’t know what you were here for, but he had a feeling it would change everything.

-------

You had only been in Taehyung’s space once before.

It was at university when he hosted weekly movie nights.

Mira didn’t want to go alone, so she dragged you along for the first one, even though you pleaded with her to leave you at the dorm.

His place back then was just as you’d imagine it to be.

Soccer cleats in the doorway, stinky socks everywhere, and the smell of way too much cologne that was doing its job of hiding whatever other unpleasant scents were lingering around.

This time, Taehyung’s place was not what you expected.

No soccer cleats or dirty socks in sight; instead, it was a two-story house with modern furniture and giant windows. His bedroom was tidy and clean, with only one shirt thrown on the bed, and his bathroom was almost as clean as yours.

You stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off, grateful he let you shower at all as the cold rain chilled you to the bone.

You reach for the clothes he loaned you, and you decide on the shirt and socks; there was no way the pants would fit, and the shirt was long enough to cover everything anyway.

You looked in the mirror and took a deep breath, wiping the leftover flakes of mascara that still lingered under your eyes.

It was now or never.

The date was a disaster. You had a good cry in your car, and without second-guessing, you drove here.

Taehyung was the only one who could help you now.

You made your way down the stairs to see him sitting up straight on the couch, picking anxiously at his nail beds, and his eyes snapped up to yours as you approached him.

You didn’t miss the way his gaze was fixed on your bare legs and how his tongue darted at his lips as he stared at you.

That was a start.

At least it seemed he was attracted to you.

You sat on the couch next to him and grabbed the blanket, throwing it over your legs as another crack of thunder made you jump.

“Feel better?” he asked softly as you nodded and let out a long exhale.

It was now or never.

“Sorry to show up unannounced and soaking wet. I just. Have to talk to you about…something.” You started playing with the fringe of the blanket so you had something to do with your hands.

Anxiety was rolling off of you in waves, and you didn’t dare look at him; instead, you focused on his knee as you spoke.

“So I, uh. I wrote a book. As you know. And it did well. Like, really well. The editors, publishers, and fans want another part.”

You briefly stare up at him as he nods; any trace of cockiness is gone from his face, and instead, he looks genuinely concerned.

“Well, I’m writing the second book about the side characters from the first book, Ryder and Sabrina. The fans want it…to be written differently.” You say, feeling hot under the shirt you borrowed from him, as your eyes flick to him once again.

“Oh, I liked those two. They were hot.” He says softly as you smile.

So he did read the book.

That was…surprising.

“Thank you. I had a lot of fun writing them. But now my team wants me to write them in a way I don’t know how to. And I wanted to come to you for help because, well. I don’t know who else to go to.” You explain.

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“You came to me for writing help? Me? The one who always tried to cheat off you? Why?” He asks honestly.

“Because Taehyung, I need your…skills.”

You stare at his face to see his eyes wide and confused. You knew you had to tell him the truth; you just wished it wasn’t so damn embarrassing.

“Taehyung, they want me to write spice. Smut. Porn. And I don’t know how to do that. I don’t have experience with that, and I need your help. My last four drafts have been rejected, and I’m at the end of my rope here.” You blurt out, staring at his knee the entire time as your face heats up in shame.

Silence wraps around you like an itchy blanket, and it seems even the storm paused in shock at what you said.

Lovely.

“Are you ever going to look at me?” He asks with a teasing tilt to his voice as you close your eyes tightly.

“Nope. I’m embarrassed enough, and if I look at you, I’ll combust into a million little pieces, and you will have to clean it all up.”

Taehyung giggles.

“Please just look at me. Sex isn’t something to be ashamed of. We can talk about it like adults.” He responds as slowly as you open your eyes and stare up at his face.

He has a small grin on his face, and you fight the urge to cast your eyes downwards again.

“Now explain it to me. Slowly.” He asks.

“They want me to make the next book a little more mature. A lot of the fans complained about how I glossed over a lot of the sex in the first book. Smut is very popular now, and they want it in the second book. It makes sense; the characters have that will-they, won't-they energy. I just don’t know how to write hot sex because I’ve never….” You let your voice trail off, letting him come to his own conclusions as the lights flickered again.

“You aren’t a virgin, are you? I mean, you dated Simon?” He points out

“Not a virgin, but just because I have had sex doesn’t mean it was good sex.” You say softly as you refuse to look at him again; instead, you stare at the raindrops clinging to his windows as you pull the blanket higher up your body.

“Should we kill Simon now, or should we wait until you are a super famous author and we can hire someone to do it for us?” He asks, and you crack a smile.

“Listen, I’m going to be honest: I can’t go through the whole Simon story with you tonight. Asking you for this is embarrassing enough.” You plead, closing your eyes and trying to chase the bad memories of your ex away.

You don’t need that right now.

“So you want to...have sex with me so you can write a book?” Taehyung asks thoughtfully as you nod.

“I mean kind of? I want you to show me what good sex is like. And not just sex. All of it. Handjobs…blowjobs…sex.”

His eyebrows are somewhere in his hairline when you continue to speak.

“That’s what I tried tonight. I tried to find someone random online to help me, but he never showed up for the date and ghosted me. It’s for the best because I didn’t like the idea of someone I didn’t know seeing me so vulnerable. And I know I’m basically a virgin with sex, so I would need someone to take it slow and show me.”

Taehyung scooches closer to you on the couch and studies your face.

You hold your breath and wait for him to say something, to say anything, as the silence is making your heart pound and anxiety creep up.

“So, should we make it like a course? One day we make out, then hand jobs, blow jobs, fingering, and eating pussy because yes this is about you too, then sex?” He asks as his voice dips low, and it makes you shiver.

“You don’t have to—I mean I—I think I can figure that stuff out.” You stammer as he grins wickedly at you.

“BabyBlue. Do you think I’m going to make this whole thing about me? I want you to feel good too. And you bet that involves getting my hands between your legs. I think your readers would want that…right?” He coaxes, and you don’t even mind that he calls you that ridiculous nickname as you swallow hard and nod.

“Did Simon ever—did he make it all about him?” He asks darkly, and you bite your lip.

“Not all the time. It just seemed sometimes he wanted to…get it over with so there wouldn’t be much…prep.” You say lamely.

“I hate that guy. Such a douche,” he comments as he slides closer to you on the couch so his knee presses into yours.

“So you’ll help me?” You ask timidly as you stare at his dark eyes, the tiny freckle on his nose, and the fact that you don’t think you have ever been this close to him in your life, and you don’t hate being this close to him.

“BabyBlue, you’re going to be my new friends-with-benefits, huh?” He teases with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes but smile.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.” You say, eyes flicking down to his lips for a moment.

Taehyung grins.

Shit, he caught you staring.

“I think I’ve grown on you. If we are friends with benefits, it means we are friends. You trusted me enough to come to me with this. And all this time, you had this hard exterior of hating me.” He teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“You were my last option, you know. And it’s all Mira’s fault. She suggested you.” You fight back, hating how affected you were feeling just by being close to him.

“Last option, but the best option. Come on, admit it, you wanted to know if the rumours about me back then were true.”

Your eyes widened as the tension in the room intensified when he pushed his leg into yours.

“Not at all. This is strictly business, and you have... experience.” You say, licking your lips, as this time his eyes flick down to your mouth.

“Mhmm. I think it’s also ironic how you wrote Ryder and Sabrina.”

You swallowed hard.

“Ryder is the ladies’ man, always flirting and teasing a very uptight Sabrina. Then they have to come together to reach the common goal of getting their friends together. The whole time, Sabrina pretends like she hates him…” Taehyung lets his velvety smooth voice trail off, and you blush.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say, voice soft and light, as he cracks a smile.

“I don’t think you should have named him Ryder. I think Taehyung would have been a more fitting name.” He jests.

Okay, so maybe…. MAYBE you took inspiration from you and Taehyung’s…whatever it was. But you never in a million years thought he would actually read your book. And you never ever were going to admit that to him.

“Are you going to help me or keep blabbing?” You ask harshly as he chuckles low in the back of his throat.

“As long as you mention my name in print that I helped you…sure, why not?” He says with a cheeky grin.

You sighed.

“I knew I should have gone with someone else.”

“Nah, baby, there is no one as good as me out there.”

You cock an eyebrow as once again the tension in the room seems to ramp up making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“Then prove it.” You shoot back, tired of wasting time, tired of awkward conversations.

“Oo, she’s feisty. Okay, BabyBlue, show me how you kiss.” He insisted as he grabbed your hips and settled you on his lap in an easy movement, like he had been doing this his entire life.

“Make sure you think about how it feels. This is for research after all, and nothing else. Right?” He says, his voice low and husky, making you nod slowly as your eyes lock on his lips.

Taehyung wastes no time in tangling his fingers in the silky strands of your hair before pulling you close and attaching his soft lips to yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise because holy shit, Kim Taehyung is kissing you, and it wasn’t supposed to feel this good, but your eyes soon flutter closed as you lean into the kiss.

-------

Taehyung had kissed many girls in his lifetime; hell, he couldn’t even name them all at this point, though in his defence, most of them he kissed when he was a few drinks in.

This kiss with you, though…

Taehyung knew that as long as he lived, he would never forget this.

The way your lips moulded to his almost perfectly as if they were meant to be there, the way his hands tangled in your hair and pulled you even closer so he could deepen it even more.

The way your body seemed to melt and soften into his, your legs spreading wider so your crotch was flushed against his upper thighs, and how badly he wanted you to move a couple of inches upward to feel how this kiss was messing him up.

A couple of hours ago he was worried about his sex drive, and now it seemed his body was making up for lost time as his cock rose so quickly it made him dizzy as all the blood left his brain.

You began to find your rhythm as your lips moved against his, and when you let out a small moan against his mouth, Taehyung felt his cock twitch in his pants, desperate for any kind of friction.

He expertly moved his hands from your hair and began to run them down your arms; he chuckled darkly against your warm mouth when you shivered as he made his way slowly up and down, making the hairs on your arms stand.

You gasped when his hands trailed down your sides, which let him easily slip his tongue into your mouth and touch yours in a way that made you both moan.

Taehyung knew this kiss was for research purposes, but he was growing impatient with the lack of friction against his aching shaft, so with one hand wrapped around you, he lifted you to shove the blanket off you both before settling you back down on his lap right over the hard ridge in his pants.

You gasped when you felt all of him between your legs, and Taehyung chuckled against your lips as he began to leave the warmth of your mouth to discover what other noises you could make as he kissed along your cheeks and down your jawline.

His cock leaked as you began to slowly roll your hips against him, and dear god, he could feel…everything.

You chose not to take his sweatpants, and holy shit did the guy you were supposed to go on the date with miss out, because the only thing separating your bare pussy from his clothed cock was a thin piece of material that Taehyung could already feel you soaking through.

If this was how worked up you were over a kiss, Taehyung couldn’t wait to explore more.

This was going to be fun.

He nibbled at your jawline, and his name escaped your lips in a breathy moan as you continued to roll your hips against him, seeking friction for you both.

The rain was still lashing at the windows and thunder nearly shook the house, but Taehyung hardly heard any of it over the blood pounding in his ears and the way your skin felt under his fingers.

So warm.

So perfect.

You continued your delicious rolls of your hips as his lips found yours again, and you kissed him with such passion and fire, he had no idea how you couldn’t write a spicy scene.

You were a natural.

Taehyung could feel himself getting a little too excited as his boxers were now soaked with precum, and his cock was twitching painfully under the ministrations of your hips.

You were rubbing against him like a needy animal in heat, and as sexy as that was, Taehyung had to slow things down before he blew his load and embarrassed himself.

He was supposed to have more control than this, goddammit!

His hands make their way to your hips to stop you, but it only makes you grind against him harder and the sexiest, neediest moan to fall from your lips.

Taehyung’s spine is tingling, his hands are tightening on your hips, his cock is rock hard, and his balls are drawing up.

Fuck, he is going to cum from just kissing you.

This has to stop.

He slowly pulls away and lets out a shaky breath as your grinding stops, and Taehyung thanks his lucky stars he didn’t cum in his pants like a horny teenager.

You open your eyes slowly, which are glazed over, and your hand comes up to your face as your thumb runs over your bottom lip, which is red and swollen from all the kissing.

His cock twitches against you, and you giggle.

“And that’s how you kiss.” He says, his voice rough and deep, as he clears his throat and tries to hide how aroused the kiss made him.

Which was pretty difficult with his cock still painfully throbbing between his legs and the smear of precum he could feel coating the sensitive head of his cock.

“Thank you for showing me that. That was. Good.” You reply slowly as you card a hand through your messy hair, pushing it away from your face.

Now that everything had come down, Taehyung’s other senses were starting to come back, and, fucking hell, he could feel how wet you were and how it soaked into his pants. He was sure that if he looked down, the crotch would be stained with both of your arousals.

“Just good? Come on, BabyBlue, work with me here.” He teased as his mouth connected with your shoulder, and he peppered light kisses against the material of his shirt.

It smelled like you already, and Taehyung liked that.

“Well, Captain Taehyung, it was an acceptable kiss. I definitely have enough material to write a kissing scene.” You tease him right back, which makes his cock once again twitch against you.

In all the times you teased him about how he used to call himself “Captain Taehyung,” it never made his cock throb like that.

Shit, it seemed cumming in his pants wasn’t off the table yet.

It was just because he had not been with anyone in a while.

That’s all.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel special. Don’t worry. You don’t have to lie. I can feel you soaking through my pants.” He admitted it as he continued to lightly kiss your shoulder.

You arch up into his touch and card your hands through his hair.

Yeah, he needs to stop, as his cock is still impossibly hard, and he swears one roll of your hips might make him lose it. But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. It feels so damn good.

“You’re one to talk. You got hard the second I kissed you. Don’t think I can’t feel that monster between your legs poking into me.” You tease back as you roll your hips, and Taehyung squeezes your sides.

Fuck, he is teetering on the edge again.

He’s had girls drive him crazy before.

But never like this.

And never from just kissing and a little dry humping.

“Ah, you do know how to make a guy feel special. Thank you for admitting I have a huge cock. I knew it.” He says as he finally pulls away and shoots you a cheeky smile.

You roll your eyes at him, but he sees the smile tugging at your lips.

God, he likes it when you do that.

That was one of the reasons he teased you so much in the past.

For that look alone.

Before Taehyung can open his mouth, your stomach growls, and you duck your head in embarrassment.

“You didn’t eat dinner?” He asks as you finally push yourself up and off his cock to sit beside him.

He misses your warmth right away.

“I got stood up, remember. Then I cried in the car and came right here.” You admit as Taehyung stands up and helps you off the couch.

“I ordered food tonight and have too many leftovers. Come on, I’ll make you a plate.” He adjusts his cock in his pants so it doesn’t stick straight out in an obscene way, and you nod slowly as you lean forward and kiss him again.

It’s much different than the first one, as it’s slow and sweet. Just a peck.

“Thanks for helping me with this. I really appreciate it.” You say softly as you pull away, and Taehyung slowly opens his eyes.

“No problem. It’s just a friend helping out another friend, right?” He says as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Right.” You echo back.

But even with all the friends-with-benefits he’s had, a kiss has never fucked him up in the way yours did.

TAGLIST

@likecrazy22

@kelsyx33

@miksancheese

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[webslingingslasher]

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong. 

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 

So why did everyone hate you so much? 

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 

He was the one that picked fights. 

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 

And the third floor bathroom. 

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 

It ruined everything about high school so far. 

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 

“Hey, still coming later?” 

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 

“Wanna meet at the library?” 

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 

You scoff, “absolutely not.” 

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 

You wanted a boyfriend. 

You wanted a friend. 

You wanted love. 

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 

But you couldn’t have him. 

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 

“Yours?” 

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 

Too bad you’ll never know. 

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 

He’s god damn irresistible. 

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 

It must be his superpower. 

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things. 

A lot, and very kind. 

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 

“Oh, good! He shared.” 

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 

“Peter was right about you.” 

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 

“Peter was right about what?” 

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 

“Cookies.” 

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 

“Bakery?” 

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 

“S’mores? Really?” 

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 

“Nah, I love s’mores.” 

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 

“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 

This was bad. This was very bad. 

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 

“Wanna come over tonight?” 

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“I don’t-” 

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 

“Sure. Same time?” 

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 

“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-” 

“Keep it in his room.” 

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 

“Thanks, May. See you later.” 

A wink, “See you later, honey.” 

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 

“I’m a virgin!” 

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 

“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 

“So I could talk to you.” 

It’s a start, “why?” 

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 

“You okay?” 

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 

“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 

Rude. Fair, but rude. 

“So, you like me?” 

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 

“What would give you that impression?” 

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 

“What was that?” 

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 

“Have you kissed anyone before?” 

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 

You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 

“Wanna bet?” 

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 

Plus, he was really cute. 

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 

“Do-” 

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 

He wanted to do it again. 

That’s a good thing. 

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 

And for that reason, 

“Sold.” 

[appleyass123]

What are your thoughts on the sasusaku ship and how it was written in the show/manga?

I have written some of my thoughts through here and here but I figure you want me to flesh it out so I'll try to explain it from the best of my ability from the very beginning. I may warn you this is a long analysis.

I have tried to like SasuSaku, trust me, I really have but everytime I re read the manga and read some of their moments together I can't help but cringe because they are so vague and later on they become negative and toxic to the point you question if their is any hope in their relationship and felt very bad to me. I feel like at the beginning they did a okay job, they were shown to have some sense of care in each other regarding Sakura's huge crush on Sasuke and repeatedly asking him on dates. Yes, it is a little bit annoying but remember that Sakura was a 13 year old kid at that time who of course would be a little bit immature for her age so I let her have a pass because there are plenty of girls out there who are probably similiar to her.

During the bell test we get to see them interact more and Sasuke even attempts to try and tell Sakura his dreams and ambitions here since clearly Sakura knows very little about Sasuke other than the fact that he is part of the Uchiha clan, wants to kill his older brother (which she finds cool???), and likes long hair (which is most likely a rumor).

I'll even admit that this scene where Sakura hugs him to stop him from ripping another shinobi's arms off was very cute as she was able to calm him down. Most people found this romantic and sweet because Sasuke activated his curse mark because Sakura got hurt and that may only be half true because Sakura also confirms that Sasuke was letting his lust of power get to his head due to Orochimaru.

And then this scene right here when Sasuke was about to leave Kohona, I found this scene very upsetting not just because Sasuke was leaving to go to Orochimaru to get revenge, power and all that jazz but because of the way Sakura tried to convince Sasuke to stay in Kohona.

At first I found her words comforting and true when she was explaining to Sasuke that revenge isn't the answer to his problems which is true but the fact she added it wouldn't make her happy is when I got a little upset and you can see it made Sasuke upset to. Why? Because Sakura is basically making this scene all about herself. She isn't trying to understand Sasuke reasons for his depature and is more upset about what she wants and not him. And then she does it again telling Sasuke that she loves him so much she can't stand and even states she would be LONELY if he went away!

I found it very unnerving because Sakura doesn't understand Sasuke's feelings. She keeps on making it about her and the fact that she keeps on ignoring Sasuke's words really irritated me. Sakura has friends and family who love and care for her and while Sasuke hardly has any friends, he lost his family so young and it doesn't help that none of the teachers seem to be concerned about his mental health and well-being or the Uchiha massacre and it just goes to show that Sakura not only does she not understand Sasuke but doesn't want to understand nor does she care about his feelings. Because the whole reason she wanted to become a kunoichi was to get Sasuke's attention, she grew her hair for Sasuke, and basically her entire world revolves around Sasuke which isn't healthy for a girl so young like Sakura. She even states she will leave the village and help him take revenge just to be close to him which again is stupid but at the same time she doesn't know any better.

And can we also talk about the fact that after Sasuke knocks her out he just LEAVES her there all alone, unprotected in the middle of the night where anyone could hurt her???? That is not OKAY and it just goes to show how little care Sasuke has for Sakura in regards to her well-being.

And then we have this scene where Sakura plans to go kill Sasuke all by herself so she wouldn't burden Naruto with their promise of bringing Sasuke back to Kohona.

Again, Sasuke tries to tell Sakura his motives but once again Sakura goes "IDC!!", why? Because once again it just proves that Sakura truly doesn't care for Sasuke's feelings and has no interest in trying to and all she notes is that he changes. I'm sure she has once wondered why Sasuke is doing all this but she doesn't feel the need to try and understand it, why? If Sakura truly does care for Sasuke why hasn't she tried to understand his clan, his background, his feelings? If she truly loved and cared for Sasuke she would try to give a damn about how he feels.

And keep in mind that Sakura was the one who tried to kill Sasuke first, I've seen Sasuke getting a lot of backlash for trying to kill Sakura but people tend to forget Sakura started it and Sasuke was going to finish it!

And gosh, this part where Sasuke tries to kill Sakura will always leave me in complete and utter shock and disgust! Bro didn't even let her prove herself worthy standing by his side when he asked her to kill Karin, he straight up was ready to nerf her ass with no remorse!!

Kakashi even confirms that Sasuke really meant to kill Sakura with no hesitation whatsoever! What would've happened if Sasuke managed to suceed in killing Sakura if Kakashi hadn't come just in time??

Then Sakura attempts to try and kill Sasuke again but of course is unable to due to her unhealthy crush towards Sasuke. So then Sasuke tries to kill Sakura again by using her poisoned kunai knife against her!!

And then Naruto had to come and save Sakura again from nearly being killed by Sasuke! Again, what would've happened if Naruto hadn't come in time?? Kakashi was nearly too late in saving Sakura and Naruto had to save her instead, Sasuke really could've killed her again with no remorse and yet SasuSaku shippers find this healthy?! Because at this point it just goes to show just by now how unhealthy this pair is!

Many SasuSaku shippers say that Sasuke and Sakura's feelings are connected but I beg to differ because this scene where Naruto reveals that he knows the truth about Itachi further proves just how very little Sakura knows about Sasuke. She is confused and doesn't understand what Naruto means by that and I bet you she doesn't even bother to ask Naruto about it in the aftermath.

And that fact that she still likes him after he tried to take her life is just appalling! Like, anyone with a brain would understand that if a man who you love purposely tries to take your life willingly, twice means that you should take the hint and realize that he doesn't like you and that you should really think twice if you want to be with them! But Sakura, for someone who is so smart she really can be so stupid! Why would you want to marry someone who tries to kill you??

And then when the three of them plus Kakashi are up against Madara and his new transformation this is what she does.

She runs in with no plan whatsoever! And why? Because she wanted Sasuke to see how much progress she's made and doesn't want to be seen as a weakling! She ends up getting stabbed and then Naruto and Sasuke have to rescue her! And when they do Sakura is more CONCERNED about Sasuke not worrying about her than the war in general!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME SAKURA??

What makes you think that this is the right time to be impressing Sasuke in a middle of a freaking war??!!

And when Sakura seemingly seems concerned about what is happening outside this is what Sasuke says to her:

Wow...I can really feel the loving bond they both share...so romantic...

Then we have Sakura and Kakashi both falling to their almost inevitable doom by almost getting burned by lava and Naruto even tells Sasuke to go and save Sakura but he doesn't and willingly leaves her and Kakashi to both die!

Sakura even realizes it too! Look at how distraught her expression is! She is saddened that the love of her life was willing to leave her to die, and she knows by now that she means nothing to him! And I'm suppose to believe that they are in love or that Sasuke had romantic feelings for her the entire time?! I think not!

And then the cherry on top! This scene where it seems like Sakura is going to knock some sense into Sasuke by how fierce and determined she looks on her face right? But no, this is what she does...

She once again just HAS to make it all about herself! Always about her, how she feels, how much she "loves" Sasuke, and how much she wants him to love her! Now when she was 13 years old it's understandable, she was a little kid who hardly know better but she is practically 16-17 years old here! You would've thought that she would get the memo but no! She is still the same and doesn't care whether or not Sasuke wants her or not! And how does Sasuke respond to that? This...

He puts her under a FREAKING genjustu where he kills her over and over again for 8 FREAKING hours!! Yup, this is your precious and loving ship SasuSaku fans!! You can clearly see just how much Sasuke loves Sakura and how badly he wants her!!

So in short, SasuSaku is toxic and never should've become a couple in the first place! It's not only that Kishimoto doesn't know how to write romance but he purposely shows us just how toxic these two are for each other and should've just stayed as friends! With how negative their interactions are it's safe to say they were never meant to be! Sakura's so called "love" for Sasuke is selfish, shallow, and superficial and we don't even know why she likes him in the first place, and I bet you it's mainly for his looks because Kishimoto even admits that he's been avoiding writing the real reason for Sakura's crush on Sasuke. Sakura likes the idea of having a handsome man like Sasuke in her life and wants him regardless if he wants her or not!

Sorry for the long analysis here but I hope this answers your question and helps you understand just how bad SasuSaku are!

[little-diable]

Something Special - Dean Winchester (smut)

After watching SPN with @writethelifeyouwant this weekend, I needed to write a fic about Dean's "sex has always felt really good" monologue. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader tells Dean that she doesn't get the hype around sex, Dean is set on showing her that it's something truly special

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), friends to lovers, just pure smut basically

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

header and plot idea by @deathofpeaceofmind

No longer was (y/n) used to the calm beat of her heart, not urged on by the adrenaline thumping through her veins because she was chased by someone, or rather something. No longer was (y/n) used to sitting back with a smile tugging on her lips, allowed to take a few deep breaths without following either Dean or Sam to wherever they were called to. But tonight – for the first time in weeks – (y/n) found herself sitting next to Dean, head placed on his shoulder, hand holding onto a cold bottle of beer. The sounds of the movie the two were watching filled her room, but neither Dean or (y/n) found themselves concentrating on the plot, sharing jokes, thoughts, and questions as the minutes kept blurring by.

“You know,” (y/n) took another sip of her beer, eyes focused on the scene flickering on. The two main characters were about to tumble onto the mattress of their now shared bed, momentarily leaving (y/n) wondering how it must feel to be touched like this by Dean. “I never got the whole excitement about sex. I mean, yes, I guess it can feel good, but it’s nothing special.”

“What?” Dean’s raspy chuckles bubbled out of him, hand reaching for the remote to pause the movie. “Nothing special? It’s the most special thing out there, sweetheart.”

(Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling, drowning another sip before she placed the bottle down, fully turning towards Dean. His forest green eyes studied her as if he was trying to figure out if she was possessed, no longer able to guide herself. “Then please, enlighten me. What’s so special about it?”

“Fuck, the guys you’ve been with before must have sucked in bed, huh?” No longer were Dean’s eyes filled with the almost childish glee (y/n) found herself admiring whenever he didn’t notice her staring, no, by now they were filled with something rather serious, something that forced the hairs on her arms to rise. (Y/n) shuffled around, breaking eye contact for a second before she let go of a deep sigh.

“I don’t know, I mean, I never got close to an orgasm with them.” Dean’s warm hand found her chin, forcing (y/n) to look at him. For a few moments neither one of them dared to speak up, trying to communicate without sharing any words, listening to the silent whispers of their hearts like blind wanderers forced to rely on the whispers of the breeze, guiding them along uneasy paths. 

“Will you let me? You deserve to experience how good it can actually feel.” It was just a whisper, a sound so quiet (y/n) wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, and yet her curiosity got the best of her. Slowly she nodded her head, gasping in surprise as Dean’s plush lips found hers, kissing her without another warning. She was pulled into his lap, finding comfort close to his racing heart, to his strong thighs, and the hands that wandered up her spine to explore unfamiliar territory. 

Dean tugged her shirt over her head, dilated pupils flickering down to her chest, to the skin he kissed moments later. Every now and then their eyes met, just for a few seconds, and yet the seconds felt more sincere than any moments (y/n) had once shared with the men she had dated. But there had always been something special about Dean Winchester, the man that owned her heart without even knowing so.

“You see, sex has always felt really, really good. But, sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know?” Dean’s lips found their way back up to her throat while his hands worked on her bra, letting the fabric fall to the ground, taken from her before she could even try to cover herself up. “You’re drunk. You shack up. Then, it’s the whole morning thing. You know, “hey, that was fun.” And then, “adios,” you know? Always the “adios.” But, you know, when you get down to it, what’s the big deal, right?” The green colour of his eyes seemed to grow even greener as he sucked on her hardening nipples, set on leaving marks that would remind (y/n) of this very moment for days to come. 

“Dean,” she mewled his name, begging him to move down further. Another gasp ripped through her as Dean ground her core against his bulge, letting her feel how hard he was, just for her. Her clit was pulsing, secretly wondering if she’d be able to cum just like that, just from searching his closeness with most of their clothes still on. “More, please.”

“I mean, sure, there’s the touching and the feeling all of each other. My hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body. The two of us moving together, pressing and pulling… Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds. I want you to feel that, all of it.” He chuckled at the desperate gaze swimming in her pupils, letting go of a soft “So impatient”. 

Dean clicked his tongue, flipping them around so that he could tower over her, hands tugging his own shirt over his head. Fuck, this wasn’t the first time (y/n) got to admire a shirtless Dean, and yet she had never dared to admire him for long, just a few seconds where he found himself distracted by something. But now Dean wasn’t distracted, no, he was awfully focused on (y/n), on the woman that would choke on his name in a few minutes. “I think I want you to cum on my tongue first, and then on my cock.”

“Oh fuck, do something, please.” His chuckles reverberated through the bedroom as he helped her out of her jeans, panties following shortly after. She was completely bare, naked for his eyes only, a sight so beautiful Dean found himself frozen. Both their hearts were racing, calling out to one another, very well knowing that this wasn’t just a quick hookup, not something they’d ever be able to forget. 

(Y/n)’s eyes followed Dean’s every move, watching him kiss his way down to her heat, eyes flickering up to meet hers as he brushed his tongue along her folds, moaning at her taste. She could already tell that this wouldn’t end like it had with the guys she had been with before, Dean would be able to make her cum in no time, pushing her over the edge before her mind could catch up with her body. 

Dean’s skilled fingers took care of her pulsing bundle of nerves, smirking against her skin as he dipped his tongue into her tightness. Her moans kept clawing through her, hands grasping her sheets in a desperate try to ground herself, unable to keep on breathing. Her body grew tense as she felt her orgasm creeping closer, forcing her to breathe faster, scared that she’d pass out from the tension now clinging to her. 

This very sensation had something so unfamiliar to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever get to experience this again, already addicted to the feeling of Dean’s tongue taking care of her every need. Her moans urged him on to add more pressure to his movements, tongue fucking her faster, in sync with the movements of his fingers. 

“Oh god, Dean, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” Her sobs left his heart roaring in pride, tugging on his muscles as he watched her come undone. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, teeth buried in her lower lip as she let the sensation wash through her, allowing her vocal cords to produce the sweetest sounds Dean has ever heard before. He found himself marvelling at her, wishing that he’d be able to grasp his phone, to take a picture of the pleasure drunken expression tugging on her features. 

Dean had always known that he was in love with her, and yet he had never dared to act on his feelings, preferring to secretly harbour a crush that was stronger than any emotion he was used to by now, instead of ending up with a broken heart and a broken friendship. But in this very moment, Dean found himself growing more confident, finally understanding that she was tied to him in the same way he was tied to her. 

“Dean,” a deep sigh left her as he pulled away, smirking down on (y/n) before he kissed her. “Fuck me, please.” 

“Such a good girl, I knew you’d love this, you deserve to be touched by someone who actually wants you to enjoy this.” Dean rose from the bed to tug his trousers down his legs, allowing (y/n) to take in the sight of his clothed cock, of the way his cock was pressed against the fabric of his dark boxers. Fuck, she had dreamt about this very moment for way too many times, wondering how he’d fuck her, how he’d push her closer and closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her. 

Dean rolled a condom down his cock before he aligned himself with her heat, fingers interlaced with hers before he slowly sank into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust, exhaling the tension tugging on their muscles, urged on by the emotions that made this very night more special than all others they got to live through before. 

(Y/n)’s trembling hand tugged Dean down to her, sharing a passionate kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved slowly at first, building up a rhythm that shot sparks down their spines, leaving them drowning in the heat thumping through their veins. 

“Shit, you feel so good.” Dean’s praises left her heart skipping beats, racing in her chest as if she was on another hunt, guided by the adrenaline rushing through her system. But this very moment wasn’t filled with the same kind of adrenaline she was all too used to, no, it had a new touch to it, allowing her to silence her racing thoughts. 

Her walls fluttered around his cock as his hand found its way back to her sensitive clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, very well knowing that they’d both cum any moment now. Heavy breaths left them, mixed with moans and groans that echoed through her bedroom, a sound that would forever cling to them, reminiscent like the emotions filling their bodies. 

“There we go, can feel you clenching my cock. Let go for me, sweetheart.” Dean’s raspy words pushed her over the edge, hands finding his shoulders to claw her fingernails into his skin. He fucked her through her high, staring down on her with a proud smirk before he followed her, releasing himself into the condom. 

Dean slowly pulled out of her, tossing away the condom before he searched her closeness again. For a few minutes neither of them dared to speak up, trying to catch their breaths with closed eyes and wandering fingers that stroked one another’s warm skin. With a kiss pressed to her forehead, Dean pulled (y/n) into his chest, tightening his grip on her. 

“You’re right, this is truly the most special thing ever.” 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Reader is dating Jeremiah and sees him and belly kissing. She then goes to Conrad who then comforts her and possibly leads to a smut? In the end have Conrad and reader date

I started singing Better than revenge in my head when reading this XD I couldn't not write it. Also, I did not make them date as I think it would be too much too fast

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Angry tears cascaded down your cheeks, the image of Belly kissing Jeremiah relentlessly haunting your thoughts. You thought Belly was your friend, that Jeremiah was loyal — you were visibly wrong on that one. Their betrayal cut deep, a painful cliché straight out of a movie. The classic scene of the boyfriend caught kissing his girlfriend's friend played out before your eyes.

Amidst the partygoers, you waved your way down the stairs slipping ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s, desperate to escape the house. You couldn’t be under the same roof as them.

You came to this party in your best dress, with the intention of asking Jeremiah to stay over for the night, but now all you wanted was to hit him where it hurt — or cut his tongue in punishment for sticking it in Belly’s mouth. 

When you reached the living room, a hand caught your arm, halting you.

‘’Are you okay?’’

Your eyes were blurry with tears, but you knew that voice. It was Conrad. 

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, probably smearing some of your mascara. ‘’Yeah, I…no. Nothing is okay,’’ you managed to utter.

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

You hesitated, the weight of the betrayal weighing heavily on your heart.

‘’Where is Jere? Do you want me to get him—’’ 

‘’No! No. I don’t want to see him,’’ you replied firmly, the thought of facing Jeremiah unbearable.

Conrad nodded, figuring that his brother was the reason for your tears. ‘’Okay. Eh…do you want me to take you home? I’ve just drunk a third of my beer. I’m good to drive.’’ 

Home sounded lonely, but you would rather be alone in your big house. The thought of bumping into Jeremiah or Belly, or worse, encountering them together, was enough to make your stomach churn with unease.

You sat in silence in his jeep as he drove, pushing away the memories you had made with Jeremiah in the same car. All the singing parties, the afternoons getting ice cream, or simply driving you home after staying for dinner at the summer house. 

Every now and then, Conrad’s eyes would leave the road and check on you. He didn’t know what to say, or how to bring you comfort, so he stayed quiet. He respected your silence and space. You’ll talk to him if you want, right?

Minutes went by, and the secret was getting too heavy to bear…so you just dropped the bomb.  

‘’I caught Jeremiah kissing Belly.’’ 

Conrad slammed the brakes, the jeep coming to an abrupt halt. ‘’What the fuck?’’ 

The sudden halt jolted you forward, and your hands instinctively gripped the dashboard to steady yourself. The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air, the silence between you and Conrad becoming palpable. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief, searching your face for any signs that you were joking. But the pain etched on your features told him otherwise.

‘’Jere...and Belly?’’ Conrad's voice was laced with disbelief, his words barely a whisper.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as well. ‘’I was looking for Belly. Gigi told me she saw her going upstairs to the bathroom, so I went and— I caught them kissing in the hallway. I-I couldn't believe my eyes.’’ Tears welled up in your eyes again. ‘’I never saw it coming, nor would I have suspected it. Belly and I have gotten so close since the debutante lessons. We were good friends, but I guess I underestimated just who I was dealing with…’’

Anger flickered in Conrad's, momentarily overriding his shock. He was usually the one who fucked things up, but Jeremiah took the cake with that one. ‘’I’m not taking anyone’s defense, what they did was fucking shitty, but Jere is not innocent in this. It takes two people to kiss.’’

You rolled your eyes, but you understood what he meant. ‘’I know. I’m angry at Jere too.’’

God, you were so fucking angry at him. All the plans you had made for next year were falling apart. Visiting him for Thanksgiving, the ski trip during the holidays, his birthday. Everything was called off. 

‘’Does he know that you saw them?’’ 

You shook your head. 

How were you going to confront him about it? Would he come to you and tell you what happened? Will he blame it on the alcohol? That’s such a shitty excuse.

‘’This hurt so much, Con.I can't believe he would throw away our relationship like this.’’ 

Shifting in his seat, Conrad reached out, his hand gently brushing against your tear-stained cheek, wiping away a lingering tear with his thumb. ‘’My brother’s a jerk. He doesn’t know what he just lost.’’

You nodded, grateful for Conrad's support, even in the midst of his own familial ties. 

‘’Thank you for being there for me,’’ you said as his thumb continued to caress your cheek, his touch a source of comfort amidst the turmoil. 

‘’I’ll always be there for you.’’ Conrad's eyes met yours, so blue and beautiful even under a yellow street-lamp light.  

Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, forgetting that you were still in the middle of the road. Conrad's breath hitched, taken aback by your sudden action, but he quickly reciprocated, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. Had the situation been turned around, you would have thought that Conrad was taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability, but you wanted this. You wanted to kiss him.

Your hands went to Conrad’s hair, running your fingers through it as the hand still on your cheek moved to pull you closer to him. He went to deepen the kiss, a sweet gasp when feeling his tongue brushing yours. This should feel wrong, but it didn’t. 

Conrad broke the kiss first, needing to take a breath and a moment to collect his thoughts. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you, he couldn't. ‘’We can’t be doing this. Not after…’’ He shook his head. ‘’That would be taking advantage of you and I can’t do that.’’  You unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted closer to the middle console to pull Conrad by his plaid shirt, your fingers gripping the soft fabric. ‘’I want this. I want you,’’ you said, looking up at him.  ‘’I just want to…forget. Make me forget, Conrad.’’

—

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[lunarriviera]

yet another shen yi meta [uts2 spoilers]

hi hey hello everyone i continue to be tormented with obsessive thinkings about s2 Shen Yi so i must holler about them/him some more, feel free to stop reading if you have not watched through approximately episode 11 which is where i still am. it's taking me longer to watch because i keep pausing to rewind/screenshot and/or weep in anguish about Him and What He Is Going Through. and how NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION. or insufficient attention. cf. Ryan Gosling in the Papyrus sketch screaming WELL IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!

[more. much more. behind the cut]

let's start here, with shen yi's artwork. in this scene he competed with AI to paint a chosen image and, surprising exactly no one, he won, partly because he's brilliant but tbh mostly because AI art is garbage and always adds dolphins, rainbows, and hands with six fingers.

but here's the thing: is no one going to question this? does anyone think to themselves "ah yes, shen yi is absolutely the BEST person in the world to make a painting in 30 minutes that depicts, quote, a lonely man on a beach." so here is this miserably hunched, despairing figure, surrounded by murky howling early-picasso blue, LOOKING IN FACT QUITE A LOT LIKE SHEN YI HIMSELF—even dressed like him (in the snowy white and dainty pastels he seems to favor this season)—and not a single person thinks: huh, wonder if this guy's okay?

in fact s2 seems to be repeated evidence of the fact that shen yi is Very Much Not Okay, and yet no one is really paying attention. he supports everyone else emotionally and they all seem to assume he either a) has no emotional blowback to deal with, or b) can deal with it himself unaided somehow. (through painting, maybe? but have you seen what he's painting lately? e.g. monstrous abusive parent figures, in some kind of breathless fugue state during which he can psychically hear lines from someone else's traumatic childhood?) he goes to li han's house to help her, which is so like him, and he says:

oh! you might think. well, maybe he will self-disclose a little? tell li han about some of his own personal difficulties that he's had to overcome, just to bond with her, get her to open up? HAHAHA ARE YOU NEW HERE, of course he doesn't, he just listens to her while she sobs out her tragic backstory, gives her a tissue, relates her struggles to a vaguely terrifying metaphor of his own device about a sealed room filling up ineluctably with floodwater, then smiles and takes her out for pizza. (totally unrelated but wow the product placement is heavy-handed this season. xiaomi! pizza hut!)

since we're talking about the li han case, consider this moment, too, when he interprets someone's house-person-tree drawing. does no one ever think, "for someone who talks constantly about love and connection, how interesting that shen yi has no family, refuses to date in very pointed and deliberate way, and lives alone with a cat."

shen yi knows all about love! never shuts up about love! constantly dispensing bromides about what real love should be like! and wakes every day ALONE from horrific guilty nightmares ft. creepy small girl in blood-red dress, pls will no one help this man pls he's drowning.

couple more bits and then i swear to god i'll shut up i'm starting to feel really stupid. but first consider this little story, in three parts:

"an image of despair" um okay well…technically it's just a dead body, albeit after a fairly grisly stabbing, but sure go off i guess

2. du cheng: wow even for you that was unusually poetic and weird

3. also du cheng: back to investigating the murder i guess [wanders away]

this kind of thing happens again. and again. either no one notices assorted horrified/devastated expressions on shen yi's face (in the way of classic extradiegetic reaction shots, where the camera sees them—we see them—but none of the characters onscreen do) or, when du cheng does notice, he's immediately distracted by his actual job, and/or the fact that he doesn't really know how to help his partner, because lbr he has all the emotional intelligence of a pony.

one more mini-story in three parts, and then i really will put a sock in it:

shen yi: why, what did i do. why are you looking at me like that

2. du cheng: bc you just lied your whole entire face off with alarming unsettling proficiency, since when are you that good at being dishonest

3. shen yi: hehe

in an earlier episode we also saw shen yi shouting at a suspect in the interrogation room, so convincingly that afterwards du cheng admits, you scared me. lol! says shen yi in carefree manner, i learned that from you! haha! agrees everyone, and they go about their business.

but ghastly things keep happening to and near him. at least once per episode, shen yi makes a face like this, because people are jumping off cliffs in front of him or abruptly smashing things with hammers or just lashing out with all kinds of antisocial behaviors in his vicinity:

to be fair, he has other expressions. for instance he also repeatedly employs his patented creepy ruthless smile, of the "i am going to fuck you up" variety, an expression reserved especially for criminals:

as well, i'm also leaving out all the ridiculously adorable/domestic scenes with him and du cheng, in which they share candy, roast each other about assorted nonsense, briefly co-parent a child, and, you know. are just generally disgustingly married. but that's a different meta.

also, admittedly du cheng does SAY things. he says, "are you still having trouble sleeping," he says "do i not care about you?" and "don't push yourself so hard" and "if you run into troubles, don't try to take them on alone." (i am sparing you all these screenshots since this is a meta about shen yi but trust me i have carefully accumulated every single shred of evidence in which du cheng is protective.) but, as frequently as du cheng expresses concern, he also just keeps clapping shen yi on the shoulder in a brotastic way and then strolling out. which i fear is just not going to be adequate. ("i don’t think this is literally papyrus. maybe that was the starting point but they clearly modified it?" "well whatever they did, IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!")

i leave you with two final images of shen yi, seen here continuing to be very much Not Okay, and to quote the bernie meme, i am ONCE AGAIN ASKING YOU, drama, is anyone going to care enough about this man to stop him going over the edge of the cliff with Evil Art Critic Eugenicist Moriarty Weasel Man? because he will, he will do it. because he's lonely and he's misunderstood and he's—

[cane comes out and drags me offstage]

[tvlandofficiall]

big fan of your idea for weird route queenkaard (sorry for bringing it up again), especially with queen being a major antagonist for the weird route like. i vibe with the idea that they bring out the worst in each other, like it's a relationship that challenges nothing about their worldviews and that's exactly why they're so drawn to it. queen's arc in chapter 2 just kinda gets. skipped in the weird route and i think rouxls would be the least person likely to incite the thought in her that she might genuinely be wrong at times, all he'd do is shower her in empty compliments to get her to stay with him. and like if she's keeping rouxls around out of a desperate attempt to Keep Things Normal he won't have to think critically about himself either, he'll just think of queen as a replaceable authority figure he submits to because he can get things out of her, not because he actually cares about her. like their characters could just very well stay stale in each other's company and it could. culminate horribly i'm sure. queen becomes even more convinced that she always knows what's best for everyone and can use extreme measures to get her way because she's right (i think the weird route in general could affect this) rouxls becomes even more convinced that sucking up to people he can betray any second if he needs to and being controlled by someone else is good actually and he doesn't need to change anything because queen literally tolerates him. ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK i was just thinking. if you have any thoughts about how they would interact on the weird route, how they would function as an antagonist and a supporting antagonist, what their relationship with the main characters would be like and just. how their dynamic would be in general i'd be really interested to hear that i enjoy these two and your takes a lot

NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE! i do tend to avoid long asks detailing theories when i feel i don’t have anything meaningful to add, but here. well, you’ll see from my response that i feel i do this time around. this is also a more in-depth analysis of my weird route thoughts, so even if you’re not into queenkaard, i’d invite you to take a look! fair warning, though, this gets LONG and is incredibly messy/may see some post-posting editing as i am concocting it in the middle of the night. THAT SAID; let's get into it!

with regard to the canon, i’ve discussed often how the main thrust of the weird route wrt noelle is forcing the game into a “noelle route”. this doesn’t necessarily mean every aspect of noelle is put into greater focus – we omit the introspection about dess and about noelle and kris’ relationship as children from the route almost entirely. in fact, much of the route is framed in such a way that the player seems almost expected to have taken the normal route prior to this – a lot of lines of dialogue builds off of information we get in the normal route, and the route itself is framed and presented like something someone would come across while replaying or backtracking.

rather, the “noelle route” reading is one that is more attuned to the term in the context of, say, a dating sim, or a life sim with multiple romanceable characters. context for several scenes is changed to turn them from choices into Romantic Choices – ie; choosing between kris and susie at the ferris wheel poster or choosing whether to imply kris and noelle are friends or something “else”. they’re the kind you’d see in a game like that.

as such, we’re forcing noelle in particular into the spotlight, and it seems we’re trying to isolate her from characters that she’s close with as a result. this brings up the other aspect of the weird route; the almost speedrun-like aspect of it. other characters (darkners in particular) become “enemies” to noelle, key cutscenes are removed, character development is truncated. berdly dies. queen’s role as major antagonist grinds to a screeching and abrupt halt. spamton, although he does manage to become the new route boss, has his sympathetic qualities put out of focus and dies as a result. susie manages to get a moment offscreen with noelle, in typical susie fashion, but she’s still our party member at the end of the day. and overall, a good amount of ch2 just… doesn’t happen, and so the bulk of the route becomes just kris and noelle in isolation. the only element that remains largely the same after we kick things off is the light world walkaround at the end – which makes sense if we’re rushing to get there and detaching ourselves even further from caring about the dark world and the events that occur there. the festival happens in the light world, after all, and i wouldn’t be surprised if taking noelle there becomes a critical juncture on the route. noelle will ride with us, after all.

but on that note; much to-do has been made over whether or not we embolden noelle on the weird route as we do on the normal route. however i feel the more prescient idea is that on the weird route, we take a look at noelle’s status as the damsel and decide to reinforce it. this is what i talk about often when i bring up don quixote in context of the weird route – i’m gonna do it a lot here, but to refresh; don quixote is a very old story wherein, to quote, a common man named don quixote believes himself to be the chivalric hero of the time, and tries to play at this for the "sake" of a woman named dulcinea. and this sort of don quixote idea comes up a lot (although i don’t think toby fox is intentionally invoking it), especially with noelle.

according to many of the other characters, noelle is a damsel, a “dulcinea”. she’s who berdly swears to protect, who catti tells you to keep safe, who mayor holiday keeps under strict rules and who even rudy talks a little down to. and oftentimes, kris is positioned as a protector figure specifically; either as a rival or as someone entrusted with the role by other characters. and this positions them perfectly to be the vector for our aforementioned reinforcement of the idea onto both them and noelle. we reinforce the idea of this world working in terms of don quixotes and dulcineas, of protectors and damsels, of obstacles to our protection of noelle and of noelle herself as our responsibility to protect and mold into the person we want her to be. (we even see this echoed in the new dialogue of the new route boss – i’m sure i don’t need to discuss how spamton talks about noelle there.) we take up the role of her “don quixote”.

queen’s dynamic with noelle is very interesting and complicated in relation to this. queen has this vision of herself as being in control, of noelle as a hapless damsel, but queen is also a darkner. the only control she can really get over noelle and the other lightners comes in the form of AGREE2ALL puzzles and “peon release forms” (i will not spamqueen in the middle of my queenkaard analysis but also, consider, spamqueen;), in being an obstacle for the lightners to overcome. and in the normal route, that’s just what happens. queen comes to understand more clearly the nature of her fate, complies to that, and is overcome. it’s a disquieting ending – but obviously, that’s the point. the unsettling nature of the prophecy and the darkners’ fates as objects are major conflicts there, and the start of the story is about setting them up as Problems That Exist. the more this goes on, the more we’ll start to see it questioned and revealed as such. it won’t last forever there.

that aside – on the weird route, queen never stops being a potential obstacle. she doesn’t get killed like berdly and spamton do; she’s just kind of unceremoniously shoved off to the side. ralsei talks her down at the end by telling her about the roaring, but that’s even more of a band-aid solution than the normal route nets. queen’s only remark on the matter is to lament that the only idea she had to help noelle went belly-up. so we’ve got two big interlocking ideas here already; queen is another obstacle to us, one who cares a lot about noelle, but one who we’ve written off for now. and we’ve zeroed in on this don quixote & dulcinea dynamic, turning the dial on it up to eleven.

so turning the camera into my own storytelling and to queen for a moment; storytelling-wise, what would she be up to now? overall, queen at the end of the weird route is not doing so hot. she’s quieter, seems a little out of it, and can’t quite muster her usual enthusiasm. this tracks with the tone of the route overall – a lot of the humor is tempered or outright omitted. i can’t imagine she can think of much else other than her concern for noelle and the loss of her… well, everything but swatch, really. and since she and rouxls never get to meet on-screen at all, the first time he’d ever really get to see her or talk to her would be in castle town, when she’s in that state, one-on-one. queen’ll actually get a chance to get a read on him this time. he won’t flee.

now of all the don quixotes in deltarune, rouxls kaard is one of the don quixote-est. combine a grandiose self-image and an object’s fate that’s shaped that self-image, and you get a social-climbing renfaire LARPer who’s chomping at the bit to swear himself as someone’s sword, even those he isn’t duty-bound to serve. and a beautiful villainess in distress? one perhaps in need of someone to swear himself to her? that’s kaardnip. that’s his “dulcinea”. (not to mention, it’s a chance to one-up swatch as her new butler supremeth.)

and of course, a villainess who starts her story seeking out a willing peon isn’t just going to turn one down. she’s lonely, too, incredibly lonely, and with king behind bars and the shopkeepers shopkeeping, i think she’s more than happy to spend a lot of time with this man who’ll throw himself at her feet while she throws herself into a new plan to help noelle.

so you have these two just marinating together in castle town, right? (stretches the time in castle town between ch2&3 out like taffy.) there’s a proximity there that would give way to a more – genuine isn’t quite the right word, but it isn’t the wrong one, either – relationship. they’re always together. they know one another in ways only people who spend all their time together know one another. i think you’re right that in the game itself she mostly tolerates him right now, but given queen’s taste includes the insufferably prissy (swatch), the slimy (spamton), and the egotistical (king), i could easily see rouxls slotting right in. the compliments he gives are empty, but they’re so reassuring to hear, to cling to. they bolster her; of course this is only a bump in the road, of course she’s still in control. in short; the two know one another quite closely, but there’s still that level of artifice there; like two people infatuated with the idea of being infatuated with one another, but who also know one another’s pet peeves and the side of their mouth they tend to chew in most often and the places they most like to be kissed.

it’s very strange, and probably very strange for others to see happen. i think they’re very attached at the hip in a manner that comes off a bit like they’re actors. i want rouxls to offer her hand kisses and reverence and just go all in on this performance, while she clings to it like a lifeline because there’s so little left otherwise. (it reminds her of swatch and so sometimes she goes and spends time with them, and they’re both so blunt with her on their feelings about rouxls and so ardently fond of her by comparison that she almost thinks about ditching rouxls for them, but – well, swatch isn’t out “in the field” like rouxls is, swatch is caught up in their new café work so often, and even back in her kingdom she had more than just swatch. so she doesn’t.)

as for out in the field – because rouxls will likely be in proximity to the party as they continue into the next dark worlds (even as he is turned to stone there and thusly irrelevant to them during the weird route,) he’ll likely notice what queen’s been talking about in noelle as it becomes more and more of a focus. he’ll likely tell her about it. and that brings us around to this unfinished arc between queen and noelle, where noelle is clearly miserable and queen will become a villain if it means she can make noelle smile again. it brings us around to queen as an obstacle to our goals that’s been put off but not overcome. and it keeps queen as a future obstacle – someone strong, who could be on the “winning side” at the end of the day. someone who rouxls’ll want to continue to stay allied with even as new rulers come and go as a result – and someone who’ll allow him a pathway to powerful late-game opponent status. after all, he’s likely to become a late-game opponent, too, in actual game canon. (he’s also just likely to based on – well, the sort of thematic juggernaut status i’ve laid out across this whole affair.) i’m a massive sucker for rouxls portrayals where he opposes the party in a more major way, because they’re often so campy and fun. that sort of absurd character concept is what makes me as fond of spamton as i am, and it’s what makes toby’s writing so good.

he’ll protect her. he’ll be a hero. he’ll keep her safe so she can save the day (and he can take all the credit). but he won’t, of course. i don’t think the weird route will have a happy ending for anyone. and i think he’d likely get himself killed doing this, leaving the floor open for queen to finally take center stage and pull out all the stops as a true “villain” to be reckoned with.