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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA

With: Levi Ackerman

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love

A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE

Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.

That is, until he found someone to share his bed with.

You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.

It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent.

Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.

He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.

But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least.

“Soooo, Hange recommended–”

“No.”

You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”

His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”

You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”

“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.

“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”

You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”

Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”

He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”

He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”

Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.

He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.

By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.

You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you.

He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.

Levi was okay with it.

9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training.

But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night.

He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation.

You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.

Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.

You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case.

And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.

So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier.

You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.

The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes.

His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length.

Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue.

Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.

Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.

Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.

A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved.

His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”

He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”

You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.

He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?”

You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.

“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.

“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.

The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”

Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?

He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”

You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him.

The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.

“Can you do something for me first?”

A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”

Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud.

You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”

His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet.

A throat. Not a hand.

He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.

“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.

Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them.

He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral.

“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.

You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.

You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”

He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”

“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”

He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”

The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”

You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”

Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”

To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”

This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”

You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”

He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”

You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.

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eoieopda · 11 months

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meet me at the bar (ksj)

You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x AFAB!Reader Type: One Shot | Fluff w/ Smut | 18+ — Minors DNI Word Count: 7.5k AU: Law school, study-buddies, best friends to lovers, highly educated idiots in love CW: Bad jokes, Latin, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), Seokjinnie hits it from the back. A/N: My inaugural Seokjin smut is dedicated to my donsaeng-in-law (see what I did there?) @yoongiphoria, who is now embarking on this stupid, stupid gatekeeping journey IRL. Best of luck, my lil love. I'll be waiting for you on the other side of the war! MJ FIGHTING ~ Big ups to my other lil love, M, for beta reading 💕 I posted an epilogue drabble on 7/26/23. Also: This is written based on my experience in the American legal (educational) system. I was, frankly, too lazy to study up on South Korean law for a fanfic, lol. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

You are not spiraling.

You are a paragon of health and wellness, you tell yourself as you gulp down a mug of coffee that is still far too hot, like you’ll die without it.

More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it — your third cup in fewer hours. As far as you can tell, though, it’s a win-win situation: You’ll either generate enough anxious energy to finalize your property law flashcards, or you’ll drop dead before you have to review them.

And you won’t have to take that exam…

And you won’t have to pay off your student debt…

Besides, you figure, the stomach ulcer you’re likely inflicting on yourself will be infinitely less painful than dragging your under-caffeinated corpse through yet another day of studying. Another eight, consecutive hours spent forcing forgotten subjects back into your maxed-out brain.

It’s worth it, you repeat to yourself, though this gauntlet has turned out to be a full-time job that steals, rather than pays. You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.

You should be used to it by now, running a marathon at a dead sprint. That’s all you’ve ever done — push yourself. You attended your first day of preschool and never stopped, never took a breath. Through elementary, middle, and high school; then for four years of university. Going, going, going.

Stumbling through that eighteenth lap around the track, you kept going because — well, being a student was all you’d ever been. That’s your toxic trait, you’ve since discovered. Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.

You didn’t know it at the time, but your decision to take the Law School Admission Test — or the HellSAT, as you’ve come to call it — might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis. But you didn’t stop there. No, you took that score and ran with it. Slapped it onto every application as a desperate plea for acceptance.

When you received your admission letter, you were a bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor’s degree and a vaguely defined dream.

Call it naïveté or call it gravitas, there wasn’t a doubt in your smooth little brain that law school was the logical next step to take. That being intelligent and hard-working made you well-equipped for the challenge that came with pursuing a Juris Doctor. After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?

Within the first hour of your orientation, you — a professional student — had already learned something new: You were a masochist and, frankly, somewhat of an idiot.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone.

Sitting — dissociating, more like — at a nearby table was a lanky boy you’d first noticed on your tour of the law building. His glassy-eyed stare was aimed somewhere in the middle-distance, and even though his slightly agape mouth said nothing, it communicated everything. He was the only other person in that atrium who looked the way you felt: scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse. A can crushed under the boot of self-doubt.

It was the first time you and your wobbly knees went running in his direction, but it wouldn’t be the last.

He was so deep in a daze at that moment that he didn’t notice the way you threw yourself into the open chair next to him, didn’t look up at the scrape of wooden legs against the granite floor beneath them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you announced your presence with words, however.

It was less of an introduction — the way people in a society tend to greet each other for the first time, ever — and more of a twister. Words whipped through the air at a dangerously high velocity, no syllable ending before you started on the next. Just one breath, a few consonants, and a pair of dark eyebrows shooting up to cower behind his bangs.

“Was — was that Korean?” He asked when you finally ran out of wind.

Judging by the way his wide eyes softened, you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. You’d simply scrambled his brain so thoroughly that you’d transcended the known limits of language.

More of a question than an answer, you peeped, “I think so. Maybe?” You wavered with a sigh. “I’m no longer confident that I know any of the things I thought I knew, though. So, um, don’t quote me on that.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I didn’t catch enough of whatever that was —” He gestured vaguely. “— To even attempt to quote you.”

Within seconds and without knowing, he’d disarmed the bomb ticking away in your gut. He must’ve sensed it, too, because his face lit up so completely that you had to look away. One glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows confirmed that the sun hadn’t reappeared at that time of night.

That rush of warmth you felt then — that absolutely insane brightness — was powered exclusively by the grin taking up the entirety of his face. If that megawatt smile alone hadn’t rerouted your oncoming anxiety attack, the distinct, squeaking laugh that erupted out of his chest would’ve done the job.

You doubled over, either under the weight of your own giggling or with the relief you felt in finding someone equally lost. Eyes swimming with mirth, you wiped wetness from your cheekbone and snorted. “Was that a windshield wiper?”

“No, that was embarrassing.”

The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks went some dizzy shade of pink.

He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck with one hand and held the other out to shake yours.

“And I’m Kim Seokjin.”

Now, when the door of your apartment flies open without warning, it’s that same savior standing on your threshold. That designation may be melodramatic, but if that brown paper bag contains what you suspect it does, it’s deserved.

Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches, flops down on the couch that stretches along the opposite side of your coffee table. From where you sit on the floor — hunched over your notes like a hobgoblin — you reach out your expectant arms and make grabby hands in the space between you.

You see mischief flash in his eyes, but only for a second. In the next, he’s pretending like he doesn’t see you; doesn’t hear your petulant little whines. He extends long legs out over the cushions, clutches the bag to his chest, and lets his head roll back to rest on the couch’s arm.

“Wanna know what I did today instead of practice essays?” He asks, eyes unfocused on the ceiling above.

All you actually want is whatever that smell is. You can’t stop staring at the bag of food in his hands. If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.

He doesn’t wait for your response. “The math.”

“Huh?”

You frown; and as you do, you reluctantly shift your gaze from Seokjin’s hands to his face. He isn’t looking your way, but you can tell he’s grimacing based solely on the way his jaw twitches. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ground his teeth to dust over the past three years, given how often he makes that face.

In an attempt to ease the tension in his posture, you tease, “Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”

He cracks an unwilling smile. A tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. Without turning his head, he extends his arm out in your direction. In the split second it takes for yours to spring forward like a snake, that blessed bag dangles; the scent of sausage, egg, and cheese wafts through the air and restores your will to live. Clutching your prize, halfway to feral, you tear into it without hesitation.

As you bite off more than you can chew, Seokjin prepares his rant with a sigh, “So, consider this.”

“Mmphf,” you advise through a mouthful of greasy bliss.

“Bar exam prep takes eight weeks, right? If we’re only counting business days, that’s forty — forty days, for a minimum of eight hours each.”

He becomes more restless, the more he talks. Heated, he sits bolt upright and turns wild-eyed to you.

Oh, he’s gone full-tilt insane.

“Three-hundred-and-twenty hours, then. And if you think about that in terms of our clerk wages —” He slaps his hands down on his thighs for emphasis. “— at 2,625 won per hour —”

Then, he points to you, as if the increasing volume of his voice wasn’t already holding you hostage.

“— we’ve sacrificed nearly two million won in income, just by studying for this fucking test.”

You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered while Seokjin took the path of most resistance. After clearing your throat, your interjection overlaps with his next point:

“Seokjinnie, why didn’t you just double our monthly —”

“That’s after we paid ninety million in tuition, hundreds of thousands on study materials and registration fees —”

You cut him off. “Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?”

He freezes, caught fully off-guard. Shocked eyes widen like you’re the ridiculous one. “Of course not!”

He waves you off like his thoughtful gesture is no big deal. Then, like he’s tired himself out, he sinks back onto your couch. From his back, he grumbles with crossed arms, “‘M just sayin’ that I’m tired of this shit.”

You can’t help but giggle at the pathetic pout working down the corners of his mouth. “Felt,” you agree, though it feels a little bit like a lie.

Truth be told, you feel more awake now than you did ten minutes ago, and you can’t attribute it to the coffee — not when the evidence so clearly indicates otherwise.

Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself. You’ve made the following findings of fact:

Whenever he pops up, Seokjin brings your mood up with him. Even now, as he marinates in anguish on your couch, his presence gives you a reason not to beat yourself unconscious with the four-kilogram prep book that sits beside you on the rug. Makes you hate your circumstances a little less, if only because you share them with him.

And, for a rapidly deflating balloon, you have to concede that Seokjin looks stunning this morning.

Unlike you and your day-three hair, he somehow had the energy to wash his. The mid-sections of some strands are still damp; the parts that aren’t frame his face in fluffy waves. His shampoo is something fruity mixed with something crisp — grapefruit and mint, maybe? — and it floods your senses, causing question marks to replace any coherent thoughts you might otherwise have. You’d be lying again if you said you didn’t want to find out for sure how soft those tresses really are.

The verdict?

Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty.

If being down this bad for your best friend isn’t a criminal offense, it should be.

You shake your head to clear it. To smother the flame licking up the inside of your belly, you grab the certified mood killer off the coffee table and hold it up in front of you. Surely, the cure for a sexual tension headache is an eight-centimeter stack of color-coded, neon index cards covered in information you shouldn’t need to memorize in the first place.

“Exam’s in one week,” you say with a shiver.

Seokjin rolls onto his side to look forlornly at you. You are not looking at his bare hip bone, which appears where the hem of his shirt shifts from the waistband of his joggers. Nope.

You continue the search for the point you’re trying to make. “I can barely spell mortgage, let alone explain what the fuck to do with one.”

“Don’t think I know what land even is at this point,” he sighs. Dejected, he lets his arm go limp. It spills off the edge of the cushion and dangles until his knuckles brush against the rug. “What is this property you speak of?”

Biting back a grin is impossible, so you press your lips together instead. Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this.

You look down for a moment to shuffle up the cards you spent the better part of two days preparing. As you stare down at the staggering amount of knowledge you might be tested on, you can feel the crease returning between your eyebrows. Your grimace is back, too, like a reflex.

If you make it through this experience without premature wrinkles, you’ll be shocked.

There’s shifting on the couch ahead, but you don’t look up until Seokjin breezes, “From this angle, it almost looks like you’re smiling.”

His arm is no longer dangling off the edge of the couch. His entire upper body is. Knees now hinged over the backrest for balance, he’s upside-down and smirking impishly at you.

He has to know you’re in love with him, right? How could he expect you not to be?

You clear your throat and arch a single eyebrow as a challenge. “What is the rule against perpetuities, Seokjinnie?”

Like you, he can recite it in full at a machine-gun rate of fire. It’s been beaten so far into your heads that you might utter it on your deathbeds, with your last gasping breaths.

“No interest in land is good unless it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after some life in being at the creation of the interest,” he responds with a smug smile. “Easy.”

It’s your turn to smirk.

“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”

Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?”

“Absolutely not. Next question!”

Having had the same day, every day, for seven weeks straight, Seokjin is struggling. He’s spent hundreds of hours on the same routine, feeling beaten down and burnt out, all the while. It goes like this:

Every morning, he wakes up and goes for a run in a feeble attempt to feel something other than dread. After that, he eats a lackluster breakfast, and then he promptly chains himself to his desk. When he finally gives himself permission to get up again, it’s dark out; and he’s too brain dead to check the hundred or so notifications that amassed on his phone during his fugue state.

Scratch that. There’s one person he responds to, no matter what. As far as everyone else is concerned, though, he’s a ghost.

Today is the first day out of the last fifty-five where Seokjin doesn’t feel like his brain is being hydraulically pressed. For the first time in too long, he fell into an old routine; one he’s missed. It started with a shower — and honestly, that was overdue — then, he swung by the café he’s frequented over the past three years. There, he made his usual order.

One iced americano, and one sausage-egg-and-cheese croissant with extra hot sauce.

Before he walked back up the block, he downed the former, but he didn’t touch the latter. The latter wasn’t for him, anyways. None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.

The subsequent hours looked semi-similar to the three-hundred-and-twenty he’s already devoted to studying. Well, sort of. To be clear, the subject matter still sucks, and he’s still angry that he has to touch it at all, but he isn’t waiting for the sweet release of death in the same way he has been all summer.

This might have something to do with the fact that, for the first time in nearly sixty days, he’s not on his own.

More than that, he’s with you.

Having switched away from covenants, easements, and servitudes, he feels a slightly less stupid. Contract law is a little more straightforward and a little less caked in colonialism. Unfortunately, after six hours of burning all his brain cells on shit like liens, Seokjin has begun his descent into madness.

The worms are digging in, he can’t focus, and neither of you can stop — fucking — laughing.

“I’ll give you a hint,” you giggle, shifting in your spot on the neighboring cushion. You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless. “It’s a Latin term.”

He snorts so loudly that you do a double-take, just to make sure it wasn’t a sneeze. You both stare at one another for a beat, then comes the eruption.

“It’s all Latin!” He roars.

To muffle the way he’s wheezing, Seokjin slaps his hands over his face. It’s already tear-stained from his abject failure to keep his shit together. At least he can attempt to hide how red he knows it is.

Your laugh comes straight from your belly. You double over completely when his comes out in squeaks, hand reaching out to squeeze his forearm. It used to bother him, the sound he made when he truly loses it, but it doesn’t any more.

How could it, when it makes you cling to him like that?

Wiping at your cheeks, you take a deep breath, then sigh, “Does it help if I give you the translation?”

He doubts it because you just pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, and now, his mind is blank.

Really, it’s a fucking miracle he graduated at all with you around. You and that face you make when you concentrate have always made it impossible for him to do so. It’s why he wasn’t paying attention in class when this shit was taught in the first place, he realizes now.

To cool himself down, Seokjin grabs the Camelbak bottle off the coffee table, realizes too late it’s yours and not his — oh, well — and shoves the straw into his mouth. He nods once, firmly, and sucks in as much water as he can.

It all sprays back out of his mouth when you say:

“Naked promise.”

He had always wondered what his life would look like if it ever flashed before his eyes. Now, he knows. It’s not a montage of his finest moments, the most recent of which would not have made the cut. All he sees is you, wide-eyed, glancing between him and the wet spot that’s now soaking through your sweatshirt.

You press your lips together, probably to keep from laughing in his face. It’s a valiant effort on your part and a kind gesture, but honestly, he doesn’t deserve it. His fingers twitch as he clutches the bottle, wanting nothing more than to dump the remaining water on his face. He embarrasses himself more often than not, but this stings his cheeks like a sunburn.

“I am —” he raises his hands, flustered, “So sorry. I don’t remember waking up in a sitcom this morning, but I, uhhh, clearly did.”

When you stand up, you’re grinning. And not in that scary way you do when you’re about to retaliate for some prank he’s pulled. No, that look on your face is genuine amusement.

Thank god.

You shrug as you cross your arms over your torso and grip the hem of your sweatshirt with both hands. “All good, Seokjinnie,” you laugh. “This needed to be washed, anyway. You see that coffee stain?”

No.

No, he does not see that coffee stain because the tank top underneath your sweatshirt is clinging to the wet spot as you tug the top layer up your stomach. He feels bad for staring — really, he does — but fuck, your skin looks soft. Like, so soft that he has to grip his water bottle to keep a grip on himself.

Eventually, your tank top separates from your sweatshirt. It falls back down to where it belongs, to Seokjin’s dismay, and the sweatshirt keeps going.

“Nudum pactum,” you remind him as you pull the drenched hoodie over your head. Playfully, you toss it at him. It smacks against his chest, splays out over his lap.

Once more with feeling: thank god.

You sink back down beside him on the couch, and he can’t help but notice that you’re the tiniest bit closer than you were before. It’s innocent, just your bare knee bumping his shin as you re-cross your legs. Still, it leaves his tingling through the fabric of his joggers when you don’t move away.

The silence surges as it settles, crinkling like static in his ears. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask him again: “What’s it mean?”

Uhhhh.

“It means —”

Unfortunately for him, the water he just forcibly ejected from his mouth didn’t help him. His throat is dry now, and he sounds strangled, he’s sure. The way you’re watching him so intently doesn’t help one fucking bit, either.

Are you doing that on purpose?

You nudge him physically this time, knuckles connecting gently and playfully with his leg. He wonders if you can hear his heart hammering against the wall of his chest in all of this quiet. You might, he figures, especially when you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Instinctively, his eyes flick down to the length of your neck. Without a curtain of hair in the way, it’s even more exposed skin that he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with. Making matters worse for him, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. His breath catches when he tears his gaze away, back up, and sees the way you’re looking at him now.

You are absolutely — without a goddamn doubt — doing this on purpose.

If that’s the game you want to play, Seokjin can play it, too. He turns away from you to set the bottle back down on the coaster he took it from. As he does, he finally answers your question — the nonchalance he’s faking even sounds convincing.

“It’s an unenforceable promise,” he replies casually. “One with insufficient consideration.”

He rights himself in his seat, stretches a bit further backwards until he’s resting comfortably against the arm of the couch. You hide it well, but there’s a hint of a pout on your lips when you clock the newfound distance.

Check, he smirks to himself, your move.

A flash of pink slips out. Your tongue wetting those lips before you prompt him more quietly than before, “And consideration is…?”

He slips up, makes the mistake of noticing the rise and fall of your chest as you take measured breaths. So, he sees, you’re buzzing with anticipation, too. He wonders if it’s him that’s having that effect on you, or the circumstances.

For all he knows, it could be pent up steam that you need to release. Stress weighing down your body that you want to get off.

Fuck, he wants to get you off.

He swallows thickly. “Can’t get something for nothing. There has to be an exchange, otherwise it’s meaningless.”

You say nothing, so he keeps talking.

“Quid pro quo, essentially,” Seokjin adds. He chuckles slightly when he realizes. “See? Told you. It’s all fucking Latin.”

The corner of your mouth twitches at his joke, but you don’t make a sound. The hand that previously pushed against his leg inches closer, just barely. It’s such a small shift that you don’t seem to realize that you’re moving it.

Maybe you feel that pull, too; the one he’s been fighting since you barged into his life without warning.

Maybe the consideration has been there from the start; a promise for a promise. I’ll jump if you do. Because it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Since orientation.

Pulling all-nighters in the library, developing matching caffeine dependencies, getting sick too often from the strain of it all.

You and him.

Laughing quietly in the back of lectures, cold sweats through cold calls, bitching about unpaid internships while you spend indisposable income at the bar down the block without acknowledging the irony.

There are only two real differences between this night and that first one, he notes.

Now, Seokjin isn’t questioning every decision he’s ever made that led him to this point. He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around.

You cut through the silence with a sigh that’s barely more than an exhale, so breathy that your voice dissipates as soon as it hits the air.

“Seokjin.”

He could probably hear a pin if you dropped one — can hear everything you don’t say. It’s all packed tight inside that utterance of his name like gunpowder, locked and loaded.

So, who shoots first?

You shift again. Now, when you speak, it’s deliberate and in a language he can parse.

“Tell me you want me, too.”

Bang!

His body answers for him, pushes off from where he leans until he can get his knees underneath him. He’s waited three years to kiss you, but he can delay gratification for the brief time it takes to overtake you. Pinned with his palms bearing weight on either side of your head, you wind up caged in and breathless beneath him. His right knee occupies the space between your spread thighs.

Again, it’s a miracle he’s made it this far with you around.

He hums, beyond pleased with the position he finds himself in. “Maybe. Tell me if I got the answer right.”

“Oh my god.” You toss your head back to the extent that you can, which admittedly isn’t far. Your frustration rolls off you in waves, heat palpable. “I’ll kill you, I swear.”

“Sounds admissible to me,” he teases further. He flexes an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an exception to the prohibition of hearsay evidence? Speaks to motive, I think.”

Seokjin has no idea why he’s riling himself up like this. If he could shut up — just this once — he could be kissing you by now. You seem to be aware of that fact, too, because you grip his shirt so desperately, one right move might tear it.

You huff out a laugh despite the circumstances, “This friendship is over, by the way, in case that’s not clear.”

That tiny smile on your face spreads to his. Not over, he knows, just modified. Amplified, finally. Knowing that, he continues to push his luck.

“Can I make one more joke?”

“So over!” You emphasize with a wail.

He takes a second to center himself before hitting you with award-winning drama, sincerity dipped in the kind of humor he never misses out on with you:

“You have adversely possessed my heart.”

Your jaw drops at how stupid that line was, but you reign it in just in time for his lips to crash into yours.

It almost knocks the wind out of him, the way the pieces fall with force into place. They slot together easily, just like you do. With fingers clinging, the weight of his body molding overtop of yours.

You kiss him until he forgets what life tasted like without your tongue licking into him, your little moans melting in his mouth — until you break apart, gasping for air. Panting, you ask, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting on you?”

He doesn’t, no, not at all. Thankfully, you take his stunned silence for what it’s worth. After relinquishing your grip on his shirt, you bring your hands up to cup his face gently in your palms.

With you touching him like this, he has no option but to stare down at you. Bit redundant, he thinks, since his focus has always been locked right here, right on you, by choice. Given that, it’s a little funny that he managed to miss every signal you’ve apparently sent him. But really, it doesn’t necessarily surprise him to hear that he’s even dumber than he thought.

You kiss him slowly this time, briefly, before nipping affectionately at his bottom lip. It drives him exactly as crazy as you want it to; makes his cock twitch inside his joggers, makes his brain foggy with a potent combination of fondness and filth.

Do you have any idea how many times he’s thought about this? He’s genuinely wondering because even he doesn’t know. He’s lost count of all the times he’s watched you nibble on your own lip and wished it was his instead. A million or more, if he has to guess.

Seeming to sense the way you've scrambled his brain, you nudge the tip of his nose with yours and giggle.

Seokjin can’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Thought of a good one,” you answer. Your smirk does his head in. The contrasting, goofy wiggle of your eyebrows squeezes his heart. “Better than yours, I think.”

He kisses you quick and hums, “Oh?”

You nod.

The suspense is killing him. So is the way your clothed cunt grinds ever so slightly against his thigh.

Fuck.

He wants you, he wants you, he wants you.

“You gonna make me come, Seokjin, or do I have to wait for you to file a subpoena?”

You may have to seek a refund for the prep course you paid for.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve learned best through application. You could read the same chapter, over and over, and not absorb a word. The same was true with lectures, even more so when they’re pre-recorded rambles by the weirdest adjunct professors known to man. Sure, you may eventually memorize concepts this way, but they don’t sink in deeply enough to stay. You can’t use them in any way that helps you.

To no one’s surprise, no part of your civil procedure lecture sticks until it falls into your lap.

Strike that.

Until Seokjin loses his balance in trying to take his pants off, and falls onto your floor with a yelp.

A moment or two passes while you stare at each other in shock, but that dissolves quickly. And so do both of you, right into another fit of laughter that makes your shoulders shake. Then, you jump to your feet and hold your hands out to him.

Seokjin accepts them, though he doesn’t rely on them at all when he stands back up. He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life.

Shaking his head, he chuckles, “Venue change?”

“I think —” You hum and kiss the column of his throat. He swallows hard enough that you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. So sensitive. “This is what they call forum non conveniens.”

He’s having none of that, and you don’t necessarily blame him. As it turns out, the shoe isn’t terribly comfortable when it’s on the other foot.

You’re lifted without warning, bent over his shoulder, and hauled off in the direction of your bedroom before you can even squeak in protest. You drop like a bag of dirt — albeit a beloved bag of dirt — onto your mattress once he reaches it; his lips are on yours to swallow the gasp before it can leave your mouth.

As eager as his mouth are his hands, roaming down the curve of your waist and over your hips. With fistfuls of the pajama shorts you hadn’t bothered to change out of, his head dips down under your jaw. The warmth of his breath is quickly replaced by that of his tongue, flicking a short, languid line along your neck.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he breathes. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and you keen, head crashing gracelessly back against the pillows. “Just like this.”

And he means it — you can feel how true it is with him settled between your spread legs. He presses his hips forward to meet your clothed cunt, cock teasing you through four goddamn layers’ worth of fabric.

His lips flutter against your earlobe just seconds before his teeth graze your flesh. He continues, voice vibrating through his chest to yours, “All the time.”

You outright whimper when he grinds against you a second time. Halfway to crazy, you knot your fingers in his hair and wrap your legs around his back in a silent plea for friction. So hungry for him that it aches.

“Seokjin, need — oh, god.”

You lose your train of thought the second his hand slides into the gap between your bodies. Long fingers slip below the waistband of your shorts and panties, too. He doesn’t stop there. Not with fingertips whispering over the mound of your cunt, not until he finds you wet and wanting.

So wet that you can hear it when the pad of his index finger runs along your slit.

His mouth curves against your neck, prompting you to shift your head on the pillow. You tilt your neck just enough to meet his eyes.

To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you, how your body reacts to him. From the looks of it, that discovery is flipping his whole damn world upside down.

For once, Seokjin doesn’t crack a joke and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your tiny gasping breaths and the ripple of his fingertip swirling over your clit. Even the moan building in your chest gets the memo. It disappears somewhere in your throat when — fucking finally — that middle finger penetrates you.

And god, he sounds so wrecked when he finally speaks.

“Tried to imagine it a thousand times, you know,” he murmurs.

You clench around his finger as it curls upwards, shiver when he starts to stroke the sensitive spot along your front wall. His thumb picks up where his middle finger left off, pressing against your clit in a way that makes you mewl.

Seokjin only stops talking to kiss you deep and leave you dizzy. It’s too brief. If asked, you’d never be able to quantify what amount of time is enough, but you know that wasn’t, so you pout.

Ignoring your little whines, he continues with a hum, “How perfect you’d feel, if I ever got this lucky.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You laugh as you say it, but you’re dead serious: “If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Marry me, why don’t you? Beautiful bastard.

“Threat or promise?”

He adds a second finger; and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. No, the strangled sound you make while you grind against his palm isn’t funny at all, but you can’t care about that now. Your focus is stuck on remembering how to breathe. In, out. On the stars blinking behind your eyelids when they give up and flutter shut.

He works you open for him like he’s already attuned, like it’s the fiftieth time he’s finger-fucked you and not the very first. And, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing how little time it takes for him to pull you apart at the seams.

No one has ever made you cum with such little effort. You’re scared to learn what it’s like when he tries.

You catch the triumphant gleam in his eye in the split second before you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He’s earned it, you suppose, so you’ll let him relish the personal record he’s managed to set on his first time out. You might even let him brag about it, so long as he continues to make you tremble like this.

“Shit,” he chuckles low near your ear.

If he sounds muffled, it’s because you’re still waiting for your system to reboot. He knows this, knows how fucking sensitive you are, and slides his fingers out of you as slowly as possible. Still, those aftershocks throttle you; the unintentional stimulation makes you jolt.

“Yes,” you nod helplessly, squeezing your eyes and jaw shut simultaneously. “Shit is right. Perfect analysis, no notes.”

A chaste kiss is placed on your temple. It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. Within a split second, he’s revived you. Eyes now open again, you exhume your face from where you buried it and blink up at him. Warm brown eyes light up when you reappear.

He’s so fucking beautiful that you almost want to avert your eyes. Key word: almost. You’ll drink in the sight of him until you drown, you think.

Seokjin looks concerned. With a shy smile, he checks in: “You okay? We can stop right now if you’re not.”

You don’t know who they are, but you know that they don’t make them like him anymore. Which is a fucking bummer for the rest of the world — just not for you. This one is all yours.

“You quitting on me, Kim?” You let your knee fall inwards to nudge his side, and you pretend not to notice how boneless you still feel. “Didn’t wait all this time to tap out early, did you?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, nonetheless. His warm palm massages the outside of your thigh affectionately, if only for a moment. Then, he pats his fingertips against the same spot. “Shorts off, champ.”

You follow his instructions and move to shimmy out of them, but not before snorting, “Champ?”

“Fine. Old sport?” He offers with a shit-eating grin. Your shirt smacks him in the face once you peel it off and chuck it at him. He pouts. “Hey!”

“Thanks, I hate it.”

He tugs his shirt over his head, launches it over his shoulder without looking. Your unabashed stare immediately clocks the slight hint of his abdominal muscles. Lean, but not sharply contoured in a way that looks painful to touch. Soft. Perfect, even.

What lab were you engineered in?

“For someone with so many opinions, you don’t offer many suggestions.” He shoots you a pointed look while he unties the knot at his waistband drawstring. “What’s your proposal?”

You’d love to bite back at him. Really, you would, but he pulls his boxers down alongside his joggers, and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window. All that’s left is I want you, I want you, I want you.

Automatically, you reach out with a tentative hand, craving nothing more than to feel his velvet length in your hand. To your surprise, he stops you. He catches your hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.

“Rain check, baby,” Seokjin smiles against your skin. There it is. That’s the one. “Need to fuck you, posthaste, or I’ll simply pass away.”

You open your mouth to comment; he breezes right past you. He points to the mattress, then to the wall to your left. “On your side, love.”

That works, too.

“Face away from me.”

Never in your life have you moved so fast, all but throwing yourself down where he told you to. As you land with a slight bounce, you mouth to yourself, Posthaste? Nerd.

A second slips by, then Seokjin slips into the space behind you. His lips tickle the back of your neck when he kisses the base of it, causing you to gasp yet again. Maybe that’s just how you breathe when he’s around — like you don’t know how.

His hand drifts down the length of your side, passing over the doughy flesh of your ass. He gives it a squeeze for good measure — because of course he does — but he doesn’t linger, not now.

That hand continues until you feel his fingertips scratch affectionately at the back of your right thigh. He doesn’t need to ask; you lift your leg, allowing your knee to hinge overtop of his hand. Now that his hands are occupied, you offer yours to assist.

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your fingers around his length. And fuck, there’s so much of it. Part of you wants to ask where the hell he thinks he’s going to fit all of it, but you’re not a quitter, so you keep your mouth shut.

Seokjin shivers under your touch, breath catching in his throat so blatantly that you can hear it right behind your ear.

“Hmmm,” you tease, squeezing the crown gently as you circle your wrist. “Does that work for you, champ?”

His forehead drops against your shoulder. The groan you force out of him is twice as long as necessary, followed by an unwilling laugh. “You’re right, okay? You’re fucking right. It’s awful. Just so fucking bad.”

Your thumb swipes over his leaking tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum waiting for you there. You’re relentless. “Sure you don’t like old sport better? Huh, buddy?”

“Baby,” he warns. There isn’t much heat to it, but it burns white hot in your core anyway.

The stretch of his cock does, too, when you finally stop fucking with him and start letting him fuck you. The breath he holds as he enters you slowly is let out in a shuddered groan when he bottoms out. Perfectly full and fully incapable of teasing him further, you simply melt back against his chest.

He’s careful to start, testing the waters and refusing to push you too far, too fast. You want more, though, you always have. Greedy, you rock your hips back against him to force him deeper into your weeping hole. He takes the hint, fingertips pressing bruises into the underside of your knee as he picks up his pace — and you’re far too blissed to care.

He pistons into you eagerly, deliberate. His hips clap against the flesh of your ass, but the sting of it all can’t compete with the way he splits you open. Makes you reach back to cling to any part of him you can get your hands on, claim whatever you find for keeps. Buried to the hilt, and somehow, he’s still not close enough.

You’re close, if your fluttering walls have anything to say about it. You’re babbling, too, so lost in pleasure that you can only repeat — over and over — how fucking perfect he is. How perfect for you he is.

Seokjin peppers kisses down the curve of your shoulder as he thrusts. It’s the only real indication you have that he’s at a loss for words, too; that he’s compensating for the quiet. He kisses you with an open mouth, teeth grazing the space he finds, leaves a mess on your sweat-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts. You mewl. “Can’t stop thinking about —”

“Just like that, please.”

“— how many times I could’ve —”

You wail, “Shit, Seokjin, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

The staccato strokes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. Not when he kisses the back of your neck again, and not when he murmurs directly in your ear, “— had you like this, if I’d said something years ago.”

Please, please, please.

It’s all you can say, again and again, as if he isn’t already giving you everything you want before you even ask for it. Responding to every movement you make, fucking into you with precision so that each vein of his cock brings friction where you crave it. Fucking you through your orgasm when it catches you in a riptide and sends you reeling.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice is soothing despite the recklessness of his thrusts. “So good for me. So fucking good.”

You’re still gushing when he snaps his hips forward and stills, cock twitching as he lets himself go inside of you. Still trembling when his head droops forward to nuzzle against your shoulder blade, and when you feel his breathing begin to slow in tandem with yours.

Once he pulls himself out of you, a few moments pass in fucked-out silence. It’s comfortable, if you ignore the mess between your thighs — and you do, for now. Your brain is too busy to waste time on that.

You’re exhausted and bordering on delirious when you say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true:

“I might love you, probably.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t move either, which makes you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with his face smushed into your bare back. But you feel the tiniest exhale through his nose; the kind of laugh you get from him when he’s too tired to be any louder.

His reply is muffled, lips still pressed against your skin, but you hear it perfectly.

For the record, he probably loves you, too.

Epilogue, posted 7/26/23.

final a/n: i have a follow-up drabble planned for these two! stay tuned 🥰

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purelyfiction · 3 months

Text

Barely Even Over. - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x F!Reader

Word Count: I don’t know, I’ll update this when I’m off mobile

Summary: You’ve never been good with complacency. You’ve nearly broken it off four times with Bradley before, feeling trapped and needing to run. You don’t know why it happens, or why you feel so compelled to escape. This time, you can’t get past it. What had always been passing conversation has been a full production. You’re nearly to the curtain close when the entire thing is derailed by a very agitated pilot on your front porch.

Content Warning: lots of cursing, lots of angst, potential trigger for anxiety

Author’s Note: I’ve been obsessed with this song by Drake Milligan and I couldn’t get this out of my brain. Also!! Rooster content? In 2024? Wow. - unedited, unbeta’ed we die like idiots.

God, you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. The fact that it was almost eleven o’clock at night and someone was pounding at your door was one of the countless reasons you’d put in a transfer request.

The main reason you were leaving stood on the other side of your open door.

Bradley stands, dripping wet from the monsoon that’s raging outside (you’d heard it from the wind and the pelting rain on your window), the most vicious look on his face. You spot the equally soggy piece of paper you’d shoved in his mailbox this morning in his hand.

“You really thought you could just drop this off and bolt out of town without a word?” He shakes the wet mangled letter around, a drop of water flinging to the tip of your nose. When he starts into it, you’re pushing the door shut, regretting not checking the peephole before you tugged the door open. Rooster’s hand grabs the edge of the wood before you can get too far, pushing his body weight into it to keep it ajar.

“Or that I had to hear from Hangman of all people that he saw a moving truck taking your shit?” You turn and enter into the empty apartment, trying to avoid this conversation. That was the point of the letter, the point of no contact the last few hours. You were about five hours from departing San Jose and never coming back. Bradley slams the door shut as he follows you inside.

“Jesus, wake all the neighbors while you’re at it Bradshaw.” You groan, stepping into your bathroom to do a mindless check that everything had been packed. That you weren’t forgetting anything.

“Fuck the neighbors, Gemstone! You were going to just fucking ghost me? Ditch me without a goddamn word?” You can hear the pain singe his voice. A normally smooth and entertained gruff is resentful and burned instead when he speaks to you. He follows you as you move to the kitchen to do one last once over, averting this onslaught as much as you could. “Drop a shitty letter in my mailbox to dump my ass, ignore my texts, decline my calls - not a single word from you! What the fuck??”

“I’m being restationed, Rooster, it’s not-“

“Oh bullshit!! Mav told me the truth! You fucking requested the transfer! You thought you could sneak away without witnessing the storm you’re fucking making! Just dropping all your ties and escaping -“ he huffs and the paper in his hand is crumbled into a wet lump, then slammed at a nearby wall. So much for your security deposit. “You are always looking for an out. For a reason to leave California- the navy- me. As if the last three years were so fuckin’ miserable that you needed to just vanish. Like nothing ever happened.” Bradley is seething with each curse and vent that exists his lungs.

You’ve run out of cabinets to check. Out of options to avoid looking at him. So when you finally do, you see the mustached man shaking slightly from the temperature of the cold water clinging to him via a damp Hawaiian shirt. The way his eyes locked to you with seething hurt, a brokenness you couldn’t comprehend.

He wasn’t supposed to get home from his training in Atlanta until tomorrow. You were supposed to disappear. Jake and his big fucking mouth. Before you can say anything, Bradley turns to face you fully, brows pushing downward as if it would expel the anger out.

“Three years. Fucking three years and you think you can step out like this. Without a word, without giving a rhyme or a reason - leaving in the middle of the night - without a clue you were even considering this?? Buying fucking plane tickets behind my back?? Packing your entire god damn life up without a notion of the feelings of people around you - of your fucking boyfriend? You didn’t think to have the decency to break up with me to my face??” His hand points to the slop against the wall that had been your letter. His notice of termination so to speak. “The fact you couldn’t say it out loud- couldn’t face any of this at the face value means you don’t actually want to do it. You don’t want to do it, you’re just scared. You’re scared of the same surroundings, the same job, the same city, the same house, the same person, Gem. That’s what you are. Always leaving so you don’t get hurt when you get freaked out.” The register of his words is loud, but not nearly as loud as the next round of spitfire.

“If we’re gonna break up you’re gonna do it now! You’re gonna say what you put on that god damn piece of paper to my fucking face! That you never loved me, that you’ve been hanging on to a lie! That you can’t stand to stay in this god forsaken city a single second more! You don’t get to just leave and not see this!!” He points to his expression. “The mad! The angry, the rejection and betrayal! If you’re gonna do it you’re gonna do it to my face!” Finally, finally, Bradley takes a shaking breath, turning away to try to collect himself.

“Bradley, I didn’t want to do this like this for a reason-“ he spins. There are tears rolling down his face.

“Fuck, I love you.” The stinging sensation starts. The familiarly ominous feeling that sinks in and starts to eat at you every time you’ve had this conversation. “You loved me. I know you did. At some point you did, I know you did and you can’t lie to me and say you didn’t.” The hot tears are barely breaking surface tension along your lash line. “Don’t leave me like this, Gems. Don’t- cause I won’t-“ he hovers in his words, “I think I deserve at least a bad goodbye. Not some letter full of lies hit you don’t mean. Some pathetic attempt at closure is better than whatever the fuck this is. This, this, sorry excuse for a break up.” His feet come sinking toward you as he reaches out. You don’t back away.

His hand takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, his other hand coming to wipe your own tears in the hollow room. “I can take hellfire. I can take screaming, shouting, shit, you can hate me if you have to, honey.” It’s so fractured, his voice. Strained from shouting, tainted with emotions he clearly hasn’t come to understand yet, “just… don’t leave me like this. Still so in love with you. Still wanting to see your face when I wake up every day, to curl into you and avoid the world a little longer- still wanting to fix that damn car with you,” you stifle a laugh, despite the gravity of everything, “still completely and utterly adoring you. Don’t leave me loving you. Please, Gems, don’t.”

The two of you grow quiet, Rooster’s hand still clutching to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He pulls you in, lips pressing to your forehead. He stays there as a soft cry that moves through his chest, tears dampening your hair as the two of you stand there in the cruelty of your wake.

#rooster x f!reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley x reader smut #rooster bradshaw x f!reader #rooster x reader smut #rooster x you #bradley rooster x reader #Spotify

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boxwinebaddie · 3 months

Note

whats a food that Jersey will ALWAYS eat

now...i was going to say something Very Uncivilized...

;)

but i am a lady of class and caliber, so here's my dignified answer.

jersey, like all my kyles, deeefinitely has a sweet tooth.

my son likes all kinds of desserts, pastries and confectioneries. however, due to the severity of his ed, he’d sworn off sugar, nearly cutting it out completely...which, you did read that correctly, my friends, i did say Nearly, because ed or not, jersey kyle cannot resist the sweet, sugary siren call of...

Red Candy.

like not just any candy. not blue candy or green candy or yellow candy, he doesn't want to waste empty calories on the gross gaudy green apple flavored candy or like a super sour lemon warhead or god forbid, blue raspberry Anything that tastes like an aneurysm feels.

no, jersey likes the Red flavored candy. red starbursts, red vines ( he literally can't go to the movies bc all the boxes of red vines stress him out too much ), fkn swedish fish, only the red gummy bears, etc.

tbh, idk if it's a brain thing, but i honestly think he just Likes the cherry/strawberry/red flavored candy? it brings him Joy? i luv him.

like, you literally know if jerseykyle has been somewhere if there is a bag of candy with ALL THE RED CANDY GONE but all the other colored pieces in there. he will literally pick around all the other flavors of candy, dig out Just The Red Ones and eat them, smh.

it also has to be like hyper sugary, uber sweet candy, he doesn't really like sour candy at all ( stan loves sour candy btw ) or chocolate even. it works mostly w/ mike&ike, swedish fish, starburst type candy but...

it works the BEST with red skittles.

jersey kyle LOOOOVES red skittles.

like if you open a skittle bag around him, he will feign disinterest and sneer at you prententiously like 'absolutely naught, why the fuck would u ask me, that u fuckin idiot?' but the second you offer him a red skittle...it's so over. his eyes get Wide...he's so cute, ew.

he always tells himself he's not gonna do it, but when he goes to pick up cigarettes @ 7/11, 9/10 times he grabs a bag of skittles, eats all the red ones out of it then tosses the rest of the bag out. it's the only thing he does to treat himself...literally ever:

a pack of cigarettes & a pack of skittles.

or, Four Skittles, really. because there were probably about only four red ones in there. which kyle complains about so much!!! like, stan!!! why the fuck don't they just put RED SKITTLES in the bags??? all the other flavors taste bad, the red ones are clearly superior!!! >:0

so, on their anniversary, ravenstan handed jersey something...

a single bag of skittles.

kyle was like...you got me skittles for our anniversary???

and stan was like...open the package, dummy. ;)

so kyle did...

aND IT WAS FULL OF RED SKITTLES!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAA

AND KYLE WAS SOOO EXCITED LIKE OH MY GOD YOU GOT ME A PACK OF SKITTLES WITH ONLY RED SKITTLES IN IT????!!!!! <33

stan shrugged, all smug like…

Well, You Only Like The Red Ones.

and it was really cute, but kyle was just like i do like the red skittles, but i like you more, and i like sharing a bag of skittles with you more than anything else in the world.

because i think it's sweet that you Also like the red skittles, but you know i Only like them, so you fish them out of the packet, one by one, feed them to me and then eat all the other ones bc u don't like waste.

like the fact that you're willing to eat all the other forgotten flavors and never have a single red skittle ever again...just to keep me happy...that is the greatest give anyone could ever give me.

so thank you, but if it's all the same to you, i'd like to spend the rest of my life to starting bags of skittles and having you finish them. <3

gAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

anyways...

love is no longer a lie.

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

-uncle nina, branch in my eye

#ANYWAYS #YEP #RED SKITTLE SUPREMACY #it keeps his diabetes in check #on really bad days he buys just red candy and eats the whole box like tbh the red candy carries his diabetes during his ed #i do think if they get actually married its gonna be like Would You Spend The Rest Of My Life Sharing Skittles With Me?#gaaaay as fuuuuuck #anyways we were too happy so pls know during the divorce u could tell kyle was having a bad time bc there were tons of candy packets #and little orange yellow green and blue candies #but no red ones #i just know stan saw all the opened packets w the red candy gone n wanted to end it aaalll like MAAAN no one there to eat the others #i'm miserable #BUT KYLE IS SO CUTE HE REALLY ONLY LIKES THE RED CANDIES LIKE HE GETS SO EXCITED #stan do be feeding him the lil red candies <3 #i'm love them anyways ravesey style world domination #also rip do think crush jersey kyle #who is moderately in denial abt wanting raven of cd to kiss him #pops a red skittle after he smokes a cigarette #bc he’s worried abt tasting like cigarette smoke #hope i die lol

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kingdaddydaichi · 1 year

Text

☆ title: redefining (ch. 8) | ( ch. 7 ) ☆ ( ch. 9 )

☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader

☆ wc: 3.4k

☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 10-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?

☆ warnings/notes: nsfw. mdni. cop!daichi. use of blindfold (in a non-sexual way). fluff. a hint of angst. y/n gets a glimpse of what love is supposed to feel like. outdoor sex. this chapter made me laugh out loud. it also made me cry out loud.

She’s falling in love now, losing control now Fighting the truth, trying to hide But I think it’s alright, girl Yeah, I think it’s alright, girl

Losin’ Control - Russ

You’d been having the work week from hell, and it was only Tuesday morning. As you groaned at yet another email, one for which the reply was going to require a shit ton of research, you heard the ZZZT of a new notification on your silenced phone. Longing for a break from the mind-numbing analysis, you reached for it, your heart skipping far too many beats to be considered healthy before nearly leaping out of your throat. It was the first time you’d heard from Daichi Sawamura since he left your house Sunday morning.

Yeahhhh. You still hadn’t deleted his contact info. Yet!

You eagerly swiped to see his text.

Officer Big Dick: Hey, lady. How’s your day going?

You: My whole week has been shit so far, but hi! How are you?

Officer Big Dick: Pretty good, but I’m sorry to hear that. Is it cool if I call you?

You: Now?

Officer Big Dick: Yeah. Or later. Whatever’s best for you.

Rather than replying with a ‘yes’, you tapped the phone icon and nearly slid right out of your chair when you heard his baritone voice, smooth and warm like melted butter.

“Hi.” You could hear him smiling.

“Hi,” you mimicked, knowing full well he could also hear your idiotic grin.

“I’m sorry you’re having a shitty week. Is there anything I can do?”

You politely declined his offer and exchanged a few niceties before he got down to brass tacks.

“So, I was wondering if you’re gonna be free either Friday or Saturday night?”

“Daichi…” You hoped he couldn’t hear your smile morph into a grimace. “I…I’m not going out on a date with you.”

“It’s not a date. We’ll just hang out. There’s something I want to show you.”

“Oh, really?” A smile began to tug at the corners of your mouth again as your eyebrows knitted with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Well, it’s a surprise.”

“Damn it, Daichi,” you snickered. “You tease.”

“So will you be free?”

It was your ex’s weekend with your son. “Yes, both nights.”

“Okay, good. Be ready at twenty-one hund - sorry, my brain is in work mode - nine o’clock Friday night. I’ll come pick you up and take you to a super-secret location.”

You giggled, but you were intrigued. “You’re not gonna tell me where though?”

“No. It wouldn’t be a super-secret location if I told you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the happiness was plastered all over your face. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You heard the laugh in his breath before you went on. “Can you at least give me an idea as to how I should dress?”

“Just wear something comfortable. Casual. Oh, and warm.”

Friday night rolled around and even though you were tired from the hellacious work week you’d had, you were also excited to find out what Daichi had up his sleeve. If you were honest with yourself, which you weren’t, you were also giddy about seeing the sweet cop again. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself. ‘Sweet’ and ‘cop’ - two words that didn’t belong in the same thought, let alone the same sentence.

The butterflies in your gut went into a frenzy when you saw the Interceptor’s low beams approaching in your driveway. You would never begin to understand how armpits can get stone cold and sweaty at the same damn time.

You opened your front door as Daichi walked up the stairs and onto your porch, both of you beaming brighter than his headlights. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he pulled his hands out of his jacket pockets and cupped your face. The coolness of his touch offered soothing relief to the heat that had risen in your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you, but it did nothing for the freefall. You grabbed onto his arms to steady yourself as you swayed in your boots.

Pulling away, he said, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you said, still breathless from his kiss. “And just so we’re clear, this is not a date!”

“Right.” He smiled and nodded. “This is not a date.” It sounded suspiciously equivalent to a man’s secret to a happy marriage - just nod and say ‘yes, dear’.

After you locked up, he took your hand and walked you out into the chilly night air towards his vehicle. However, rather than opening your car door, he pulled something out of his back pocket.

“Alright,” he said, “I’m gonna put this blindfold on y-”

“Wh-what? No!”

He dropped his arms. “I can’t take you to a super-secret location if you can see where we’re going!” He tried and failed to suppress his inner smartass. “If you’d rather, I can put a bag over your head instead.”

You burst into laughter and slapped at his chest. “Shut up, Daichi!” You went to poke him in his ribs, but he dodged, wheezing. You crossed your arms, your lips twisting to the side. “Fine, go ahead. Put it on me.”

“The blindfold or the bag?”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, DAICHI, I WILL MARCH RIGHT BACK INTO THAT HOUSE AND YOU CAN TRY AGAIN TOMORROW, SIR!” You’d never get tired of the way he smiled when he laughed.

After carefully tying the black cloth behind your head, he waved his hand in front of your face before helping you into the front passenger seat. He closed your door before joining you on the driver side.

“No peeking!” he warned.

Daichi had been driving for what felt like about twenty minutes when you huffed, “Are we there yet?”

“Almost,” he assured you. “Just a few more miles.”

“Miles?! We’ve already been driving for so long!”

“I know. Just try to be patient…”

Eventually, you felt the car slow down as Daichi took a turn, the smooth pavement giving way to gravel judging by the way it crunched under the tires. You felt the SUV make another slow turn, the crunching of the gravel disappearing as the terrain became a little bumpier. Daichi brought it to a stop and put the steering gear into park before killing the engine.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Hang on, I’ll come around and help you out,” he said, unbuckling.

Your door opened and Daichi took your hand as you swung your legs around. He had you put your hands on his shoulders before gripping your waist in his big hands and safely lowering your feet to the ground.

You were outside, that much was obvious. There were no other voices, so you accurately surmised that it was just the two of you. As he guided you, you could faintly make out the occasional swoosh of a car driving down the distant highway, but otherwise there were only the sounds of your and Daichi’s footsteps and the gentle whisper of a breeze as it passed through some nearby trees.

You hadn’t walked very far when he stopped and turned you ninety degrees before strategically lifting your chin a little.

“Okay, stay just like that. Don’t even move your head,” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“This is ridiculous, but okay.” You felt him untying the knot behind your head, careful not to pull any of your hair. When the dark material was lifted from your eyes, you opened them only to have your breath taken away in exchange for your sight. Your hands flew to your mouth as if to try and keep what little air remained in your lungs from escaping as ancient light reflected in your watery eyes.

“What is that?” you whispered as one might when standing on hallowed ground.

“It’s the spiral arm of our galaxy. Well, one of them anyway.”

It was a hazy band of white light some thirty degrees wide, splitting the night sky like a sheet, spinning at an imperceptible rate of 130 miles per second.

“No fucking way.” You were still speaking in hushed tones as though it was a rare sighting of a small animal that could dash away at any moment. “It’s not even possible to see that from Earth, is it? Not with the naked eye.”

“Sure, it is. At a dark sky site such as this,” Daichi clarified, looking around at the other celestial bodies. “Far away from all the light pollution of the city, you can see all kinds of deep space objects.” Your wide, wandering eyes never left the sky when he squeezed your shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Gonna grab a few things from the car.”

He returned moments later, a soft chortle leaving his lips as he watched you turn this way and that with your chin tilted up towards the stars. You’d never seen so many at once. Daichi spread one of the blankets out over the short grass and sat down, crossing one ankle over the other. Following the sound of his voice, you finally looked away from the sky, so dark you could barely see him. You went to sit down next to him, but he opened his legs and pulled you to sit between them instead.

After draping a blanket over you, he reached over and handed you a pair of binoculars so you could get an even more intimate view of the universe from your Earthly position.

“You see that constellation that looks like a W?”

You squinted through the binocular lenses, trying to follow the trajectory of his pointed finger. “Oh! Yeah, I see it.”

“Alright, following the line from the right tip of it, look up a bit. Can you see an orange, fuzzy-looking blur? It’s really faint.”

It took you a few seconds, but you finally zeroed in on it. “Yeah? But barely.” It was too blurry to be a star. “What is that?”

“That’s Andromeda.”

“Andromeda? You mean the galaxy?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, smiling. “There are trillions of stars in that tiny orange blur…”

What kind of man brings you out to a super-secret location and shows you not one, but two fucking galaxies? It was the single most romantic thing a guy had ever done for you.

You handed the binoculars back to Daichi in favor of taking in the majesty of the heavens through your naked eyes. Planting his palms on the ground, he leaned back so you could comfortably recline with the back of your head resting on his chest.

Sniffling, you looked out at things that were real, but that you never thought you’d see with your own eyes.

“Are you cold?” he asked, hand rubbing up and down your arm.

With your back still turned to him, you shook your head no.

Why was he doing this? You’d already had sex with him several times. You’d given him more pussy in the last few weeks than you’d given at all in the prior few years. You both knew he didn’t have to do all this to get his dick wet. So why would he do this for you?

He planned this. He prepared for this. He noticed something special about you…and remembered. He thought of you and called you in advance. He made you laugh, and as hard as you tried to fight it, he made you cry. Trying not to sniffle again forced you to breathe through your mouth, your attempt to mask your feelings only backfiring when you drew a turbulent breath. You squeezed your eyes shut as the first tears rolled down your cheeks.

“You okay?”

Searing tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you sniffled again, and his hand stopped caressing your arm.

“Y/n, are you crying?”

“S-shut up,” you gasped, interlacing your fingers with his and bringing his arm to rest across your waist.

His arm flexed around you, pulling you closer. “Is something wrong?”

Maintaining your silence, you shook your head truthfully. There was nothing wrong. Everything was right.

As he was prone to do, rather than force the issue or pry it out of you, he let it go, trusting that you would tell him if you wanted him to know.

As you sat in comfortable silence with Daichi, you realized it was becoming increasingly possible that you could lose this battle with him. This battle that either he didn’t know existed, or one for which he was using his strategy of fearless honesty to beat you at your own game - not by force, but by disarmament. Perhaps the joke was on you and Daichi was the one who was in control.

“You know what my favorite thing is about stargazing?” he asked thoughtfully, brushing his thumb along yours. Something you’d noticed about him is that he almost never speaks more loudly than is necessary to be heard.

“Hm?”

“Not only are we looking out into space, but we’re also looking back in time. Andromeda is roughly two and a half million light years away. The light reaching our eyes took that long to get here. So, we’re seeing that galaxy as it existed two and a half million years ago. Betelgeuse could explode tonight and we wouldn’t be able to see it from Earth for over 500 years.”

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Pretty crazy that we’re looking at the stars as they used to be, not as they are right now.” You turned slightly and looked up at Daichi, who looked back down at you with a small smile. “It reminds me that I’m alive; to have the rare opportunity to see something so profound. Somehow this relatively insignificant human existence feels rather exclusive, doesn’t it?”

You reached up behind his neck to bring him closer for a kiss. His tender lips lingered on yours, in no hurry at all as though the two of you had millions of light years for this one kiss.

You pulled away and turned around to straddle his lap. His bulky arms pulled you in for a hug, your arms holding fast around his neck as you buried your face in it.

“Are you happy?” Daichi asked, rubbing your back.

Shivering, you nodded. “I am now.”

You hadn’t spoken ten words in as many minutes, and both of you were perfectly okay with that. Words weren’t necessary for the conversation the two of you were having. You were sharing more than words could ever say and you wanted to be closer. You kissed Daichi’s neck, making him hum as you trailed your way to his waiting lips to kiss him again, this time more deeply.

He rolled you onto your back, your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, hands roaming one another’s bodies, removing articles of clothing in the process. You shivered in the cool night air, your nipples tightly pebbled against Daichi’s bare chest. He pulled the blankets over the tangled mess of your bodies as best he could until your hand guided his face to look at you as the other reached between his legs.

“Please…Daichi. Need you inside,” you sighed, the warmth of your breath tickling his ear.

Exhaling, he quickly nodded as two pairs of socked feet peeked out from the bottom, blankets be damned. He hissed a little at the feeling of his cold fingertips as he guided his hard length to your warm, waiting entrance. He pushed his wet tip inside, his fluttering brown eyes melting as your liquid heat embraced him, welcoming him deeper and deeper within.

“Mm y/n…you feel amazing,” Daichi praised.

He propped himself on his forearms, his large hands framing the sides of your face, watching your lips part with a sigh as he slowly sheathed his full length deep inside you. He held himself there for a moment, admiring your beauty in the faint glow of ancient starlight while basking in the soft warmth that enveloped him.

You squirmed beneath him, eagerly anticipating the first powerful snap of his hips. “Fuck me, Daichi,” you breathed, a hint of urgency in your quiet voice.

Brushing his thumb across your cheek, he shook his head. “No. I don’t wanna fuck you tonight, y/n. I wanna go slow and make you feel everything.”

Making love was dangerous at best. It made you feel too much; too many things that felt unsafe and uncomfortable - intimacy, vulnerability, tenderness.

“Y/n, look at me,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes to find yourself falling into his. There it was again, something so overwhelming that it took courage to hold his gaze. As he began to roll his hips, you became intensely aware that he was seeing all the way inside you, a wordless exchange between you as he communicated directly with your soul. It was familiar, comfortable, and all so terrifying.

You knew you should’ve pulled away or put a hand up to stop him. But your body bid him passage, opening up to him again and again.

He wasn’t supposed to be here - in your life, your mind, your body, and certainly not in your heart. So why couldn’t you just let him go already? You kept pushing him away, but when it came time to let your hands fall away from him and part ways, rather than let him go, you’d do the exact opposite and pull him closer again.

With his hips snug between your thighs, you wrapped your legs around his waist, moving with him as his manhood dragged deliciously along your slick walls. He looped his strong arms behind your back, putting a little more of his weight on you, but you didn’t mind. You felt safer this way, chest heaving against his as his girthy tip bumped your sweet spot.

Your breathless whimpers of his name traveled at light speed from his ears to the base of his spine, compelling his body to move a little faster. Faint wet noises emanated from where your earthly bodies collided sweetly, Daichi’s thighs flexing as he made love to you with the stars as your witness.

You were grateful for the ambient darkness so he couldn’t see the fresh tears welling in your eyes. However, the stars shone in them like moonlight flickering across the surface of a lake, belying the depth of its ripples in its superficial stillness. Daichi knew but kept it to himself lest you close your eyes or look away from him again.

You felt every inch of him as he rolled his languid hips against you, strong and naked. The coarse black hairs that covered his pubic bone teased and tickled your clit as he rutted into you.

“Nnhm…Dai-“ Your voice was little more than a whine against his open lips when your orgasm hit, your pulsing heat sending him as well. His hips stilled as a low groan accompanied the spilling of his warm seed inside you.

“Am I crushing you? I can move-“ he offered hoarsely as he shifted. But you shook your head and tightened your hold on him. You could feel him smile against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You still weren’t ready to let go. Not yet. You wanted to keep him close just a little while longer.

You stayed just like that, your bodies melded together, gasping, twitching, not wanting to part. Tender kisses, brushes of lips and noses, lazy fingers tracing affection on one another’s skin. Both of you had learned a new definition of ‘warm’, one which promised that neither of you would ever have to know the meaning of cold ever again if you would but accept it.

When the time came Daichi rolled off of you and the two of you cuddled for a few minutes when you yawned. He insisted on getting dressed and taking you home before you fell asleep. But you didn’t want him to take you home. You wanted him to take you to his bed, back where this all began. If this was to be your last night together, you wanted to be immersed in Daichi’s space, his scent, him.

You’d just snuggled up to the police officer in his bed, yawning as he held you close.

You could hear his amused smirk when he said, “The sex tonight was … stellar.”

“Oh my god, has anyone ever told you that you tell dad jokes?” you laughed with a playful push of his shoulder.

He recoiled in genuine surprise. “R-really? Are they that bad?””

But before he could finish, his face was in your hands. “I’m laughing, aren’t I?”

“Maybe you have a really bad sense of humor…”

Both of you were drunk on exhaustion, but the delirium soon gave way to sleep. That night, you dreamt that Daichi plucked stars from the sky and put them in your heart.

ch. 7 ☆ ch. 9

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 1 year

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Barty was an eccentric. Ever since he was little, Barty had always been compared with his father. He didn't only share the bastard's name but he also kind of looked like him. So everyone said. Proof that unfortunately Barty was not anyone else's child. With his mother's record of men, Barty had hope. But no.

Ever since Barty had memory, he did everything in his power to not be like his father. When Barty became a teenager, he became a punk..

Barty wore mainly black, his nails were of the same color, his hair was long, he used chokers and chains.

Barty did everything that would piss off his father. Bartemius only cared when it affected his image of the perfect Chancellor and father. Bartemius didn't care about Barty. Maybe as a peon. Not as a son.

Barty's mother only cared about her diets and her friends. She had affairs with different men. Barty knew about them. Even Bartemius knew. He didn't do anything about it. If it didn't affect his public image, it didn't matter.

Barty learned to take care of himself. He was used to anyone caring about him. When he arrived at Hogwarts, he decided he didn't want friends. Everyone was fake, idiots that only cared about appearance and money.

But Regulus was different. Regulus was the only one that was worthy in that school. Maybe Regulus was the only one worthy in the world.

And now Barty was gonna lose him forever.

"Barty... Please think about it..." Regulus always told him "What if your father means it? He is gonna send you away..."

And Barty just grinned and shrugged.

"That old man is always saying that... He doesn't dare"

"Just be careful. What am I gonna do in that bloody school without you?"

Barty felt the same. He wouldn't last a day without Regulus next to him.

But this time Barty had gone too far.

It seemed like the perfect idea in his brain. Barty had been angry that his father made him go to the party. Bartemius cut his hair against his will. And forced him to wear a suit. Barty was furious to be in the middle of pretentious assholes. He was sick and tired of his father pretending to be proud of him and loving him. He was sick of their parents pretending to love each other when they couldn't even stand each other. Barty was sick of everything. So Barty went big this time. He poured red painting through the fire system over all the guests. It all looked as if it was raining blood. Interesting Aesthetic. At least it made Barty laugh. At least it made the party fun.

Bartemius' party scandal came out in all the papers. Barty expected yells, even violence, like always. But Bartemius was so angry that he didn't speak with his son for days. It was until a week later that Bartemius finally opened his mouth.

"I fixed everything for you to go to Military School next year" he said as he peeked through his newspaper.

Barty snorted amused. That man always said that.

"What do you find funny, Bartemius?"

"It's Barty, asshole..." he whispered "Sure old man" he added.

"I already signed the papers" Bartemius showed him some signed documents, forms signing Barty into a military school "You leave by the end of August"

Barty's smile disappeared from his face. So it was serious this time. The documents not only had his father's signature but his mother's as well.

"But..."

"You're gonna learn to be obedient from now on, Bartemius" he said "You're my son. Not a fucking savage"

"I am not your son" Barty whispered clenching his nails on his palms, trying to contain his anger.

"What did you say?!" Bartemius asked furiously.

"That I am not your son! You are not my father!"

Barty stood up and hit the table.

Bartemius crossed his arms and snorted.

"You cannot send me away! You can't! What about Hogwarts?"

Barty didn't care about Hogwarts precisely. That school was full of pretentious assholes. Just like his father. But Barty couldn't lose Regulus. Regulus was the only one who cared.

"You are not going back to Hogwarts" he said "You are going to Military School for the next four years"

Barty got desperate "You cannot make me! I don't plan to go anywhere!... Mum??"

Barty's mother hadn't said anything. Usually she was cooler. She defended him. She chose his side. But not this time.

"Mum!" Barty begged "Mum, mummy please don't let him do this"

Ursula was very quiet, looking at her son with pity.

"You went too far this time, love"

Barty was too furious to speak. He wanted to cry of frustration. This wasn't fair. His parents didn't love him. They wanted to get rid of him. Like a package. So Barty pushed everything from the kitchen table to the floor and ran away to his room, before they could see him cry.

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

Barty knew exactly how to get inside the Black's mansion. He'd done it so many times by now. Barty knew how to climb the wall and land on the other side. He knew how to avoid the guards or the alarms. He knew how to get to Regulus' window. He knew which one was Regulus' window. Barty even had a special knock for Regulus' window.

Regulus' face peeked through the curtains and his mouth twisted. It looked like smile in Barty's brain. Regulus opened the window and let Barty in.

"I thought you would be grounded" Regulus said "After what you did"

Barty faked a smile.

"You know me, Reg" he said "When have I respected that?"

That's why Bartemius and Ursula had enough with their rebel son. That's why they were sending him away.

Regulus tutted and shook his head, smiling a little. But he still seemed sad. He always looked sad. But it was a beautiful kind of sadness. It suited him. He wasn't smiling like a fake person.

But then Barty heard the screams.

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME, WALBURGA! THIS IS YOUR FAULT. EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT"

"HOW IS IT MY FAULT? YOU WERE VIOLENT WITH HIM!"

"YOU HAVE TO SPEAK TO HIM"

"I WILL NOT SPEAK WITH HIM"

Regulus looked down and moved his leg to calm down.

"Welcome to hell" Regulus sighed.

Barty grinned as he took out something from his pocket. A split. "Good thing I've come prepared"

Regulus grinned back.

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

They were listening to Linkin Park and blink-182 and smoking weed. Barty was singing to every word. He knew Regulus smiled when he did that. Regulus was smiling now. And Barty had a warm feeling inside his chest. Especially when Regulus dropped his head back and joined him in the singing.

Then they laughed. But Barty remembered about Military School and he immediately felt like dying. Nights in the cold and the dark without Regulus. Without this music. Without weed.

"What you did was stupid, Barty"

Barty smiled "It was glorious" he sighed putting his hands behind his head "I wish I could've filmed it"

"The press filmed it"

"Not in an artistic way"

Regulus turned to look at him with worried eyes.

"What did your father say?"

Barty closed his eyes. He couldn't tell Regulus about Military school. It would become real. And Barty still had hope he could fix this. He wished this was all a bad dream. He wouldn't be able to see Regulus for four years. No.

"You know, he screamed and shouted like a maniac. Forbid me to get out of my room until the end of summer... Normal stuff"

"I thought it would've been worse this time. Your father's career is stained. Everyone is talking about his crazy son"

"That was the idea" Barty said still with his eyes closed.

Regulus sighed beside him.

"I wish I could be that brave"

Barty finally opened his eyes and looked at Regulus. He was sad, looking down and playing with the covers of his bed.

Barty cleared his throat.

"Hey... The screams finally stopped. I was getting a headache" Barty chuckled "What happened with your folks?"

"They are probably fighting about Sirius again" Regulus whispered.

Right. Barty had totally forgotten about Sirius with everything.

"Yeah?" Barty hissed "Sirius pissed them off again, eh? Is he here?"

Regulus shook his head slowly.

"He left"

Regulus said it so low that Barty wasn't sure if he had heard him at all.

"Went where? With his friends?"

Regulus' eyes fixed on Barty's. They were darker. A dark kind of gray .

"He left forever, Barty" he said "He is not longer part of the Black Family"

There was a second of silence for the impact in which Regulus said it. But then he raised an eyebrow.

"At least that's what my father said" Regulus looked away "But now he wants his pressure Heir back. Mum doesn't want anything to do with him"

"What?" Barty finally reacted "But what happened?"

Regulus got up from his bed furiously and began pacing around.

"He packed his things and he walked through the door. He left forever. That's what happened, Barty"

Barty knew Regulus was more hurt than angry. He knew his expressions really well.

"Please don't tell anyone yet"

"Damn..." That was all that left of Barty's mouth.

Regulus' eyes filled with tears. He rubbed his hair.

"I know he did this on purpose" Regulus spoke mostly to himself "He wanted to provoke Orion and he wanted an excuse to leave. I know he is not gay.."

"Gay?"

"He just said it to piss father off" Regulus sniffed "That wanker! That son of a bitch!" he yelled "He was planning to leave all along. He never cared about us. He never cared about me...." Regulus hugged himself as silent tears fall down his eyes "Sirius left as Andy left years ago and as Uncle Alphard left months ago. Everyone just leaves and it is not fair because they leave me behind..."

Regulus let out a sob that broke Barty's heart.

"Oh Reg..." he stood up and came closer.

"I asked him not to go. I asked him to stay with me but he didn't listen" Regulus continued "Now I am stuck in here and I don't know how to get out..."

Barty touched his shoulder gently. It was awkward because Barty wasn't used to affection or any of that bullshit. Although he had a strange desire to hold Regulus between his arms.

"Sirius is so stupid. He doesn't care about the consequences and what he leaves behind. He only cares about himself! Him and his stupid friends..." Regulus spat the last part with hate.

"Reg..."

"And you're stupid Barty!" Regulus now shouted at him "I really thought your father was gonna send you away this time" Regulus cried "If you leave I will be alone. You are the only one I have left! Please don't do anything stupid! Don't let your father take you away!"

Barty pulled Regulus closer and hugged him for one reason. He was not gonna let Regulus see him cry.

"I won't" he said quickly so he his voice wouldn't break.

"I need you!" Regulus sobbed in Barty's shoulder. "I need you, Barty! Please don't go"

"I would never"

Barty's eyes filled with tears. There was some sort of magnetism that made Regulus' body feel so perfect against Barty's. It felt like they fitted like that. Barty felt Regulus was so vulnerable, fragil and precious that he was afraid of moving. He hesitated but he touched Regulus' hair, stroking it slightly. Barty's heart began beating so fast, he was afraid Regulus would feel it. He felt goosebumps all over his body. He felt his chest burning and his cheeks on fire. It was an inexplicable feeling. Barty wanted to stay with Regulus like this forever. Perhaps maybe move to do something more... Maybe... Maybe kissing him...

Suddenly everything made sense to Barty. Dating had never been his forte. Girls thought he was weird. But when he dated, the only two times he dated, nothing made sense. He found those girls boring and stupid. So he blew them away. Barty just invented that crush on Emmeline Vance because she was the only girl in class that actually spoke to him. But it all had been a lie. This was real. Everything that Barty was feeling was what he was supposed to feel with those girls. It felt like love. Or at least what those stupid cliche songs said about love.

Barty even felt something moving in his stomach. He felt butterflies. And it felt amazing. Barty was in love with his best friend.

That realization got him out of air.

Barty broke the hug and pulled away.

Regulus wiped his tears away.

"Sorry, my brother pisses me off"

Barty couldn't leave now. To freaking Military School. He was kind of a puff, wasn't he?

"I am not gonna go" Barty said, still in shock "I promise you, Reg" Barty snorted "I am gonna behave like the perfect gentleman. I am gonna be posh and false. I am gonna do everything my father wants, I swear"

Maybe that way, Bartemius would change his mind. He had to change his mind.

Regulus chuckled.

"I didn't say you had to do that"

Barty smiled "I am not gonna abandon you, Reg" he said as he walked to the window "I promise you"

Barty felt a new kind of energy, a rush of adrenaline, a weird type of joy. He still felt his cheeks, his whole face on fire. He probably looked ridiculous all blushed.

"Are you leaving?" Regulus protested "I thought you were staying the night"

Barty felt his cheeks getting redder thinking about spending the night with Reg.

"I... I have to go..." he said nervously "Everything would get worse if my father finds out I am spending the night out"

Regulus' mouth twisted.

"You're actually a new Barty"

"Anything to stay with you" he said "I mean at Hogwarts... With you.... Both of us at Hogwarts... Like in the school and stuff"

Was he stuttering?

Regulus blinked "Wait, does your father wants to take you out of Hogwarts?"

"I am gonna stop that" Barty said as he got out the window, then he stopped and smiled before climbing down "I promise we are gonna finish bloody Hogwarts together"

Regulus smiled back. And Barty climbed down before he did something stupid like kiss him. Shit. Barty couldn't leave. Not now. He had to figure out his feelings towards Regulus and find out if Regulus by any chance felt the same.

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

I got the idea of Barty and Regulus being kind of punk or emo. Just imagine them dressing all black and using chains and piercings. They were kind of outcasts at the school even if everybody knew who they were for their families.

It was the two of them against the world until they met unicorn sunshine Pandora (which I think is funny compared to the other two punks), and they become friends with Dorcas and Emmeline. Even if at first they didn't want to.

And also, Barty had a crush on Regulus but Regulus didn't reciprocate because Aroace. So I don't see them together as a couple just as good friends. But they truly love each other.

#marauders #maraudersera #marauders headcanon #regulus black #regulus and barty #barty crouch jr #punk #sirius black

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medea10 · 9 months

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My Review of [Oshi no Ko]

Oof. The spring anime season of 2023 was kinda lax with the sequels and reboots. This was welcoming news for me as I was happy to take on any and every new anime that dropped. And I was ready to give the top prize to Skip and Loafer or even My Love Story with Yamada-kun. But then, this anime smashed in like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. This anime was already seen as the most, highly-anticipated anime to enter this season. Of course, the creator also made Kaguya-sama. It’s going to be awesome! And that’s stiff competition as Demon Slayer and Dr. Stone both returned with positive feedback. On the day of its official release, the first episode alone was seen as #1 on all of MAL. Gee, how long did it take for the FMA fan-idiots to nuke the score of this series? About four weeks. Guys, get another hobby.

Besides becoming the #1 anime on MAL with just one episode out, Hidive received the highest amount of traffic to their website for the first time ever. The music video released by YOASOBI for Oshi no Ko trended for a full week and as of May 17, 2023, the video reached 100 million views. Add to that, YOASOBI’s single has been dominating on the global Billboard charts. Manga sales have exploded. This anime is definitely one to behold. Let’s hope that nothing happens to the anime to make it falter.

Before I talk about the synopsis, I should really go a little further when it comes to the first episode. We all know, the average anime episode is roughly 21-25 minutes as it varies. This of course doesn’t include the length and time of recaps, openings, ending themes, or previews. But then, you get several episodes that are 40-50 minutes. I call that the, “Aniplex wants your attention episode”. Yeah, it’s because most of those I see are in Aniplex animes. Especially the Monogatari series. But in most cases, these are just the first or last episode. I just learned to accept it and enjoy the extra-long episode of SAO or Demon Slayer. Plus, it’s just their way to fill in as much content for the season. Oshi no Ko’s first episode clocked in at a whopping 82 minutes. This first episode alone could have been a feature-length movie. Japan actually did put the first episode on the big screen weeks before the television premier. This seems to be a missed opportunity for Sentai Filmworks.

A REQUEST: I do have a request for those blindly stumbling upon this review. If you are reading this part and have not watched at least episode 1, I kindly ask that you close this page and go watch Oshi no Ko’s first episode. Do not even read the synopsis to the episode. It is best that you go in blind. If you have already done so, please disregard this message and let’s get at it!

Ai Hoshino is an idol in a group called B Komachi. She is loved all around Japan. One particular fan (Sarina) loves her dearly. It’s the one thing in her life that gives her joy as she is currently battling a rare form of brain cancer. She dies. She was only 12. A doctor (Gorou Amemiya) who befriended her kinda got into Ai shortly after Sarina’s death. And now he’s hooked. One day, Gorou gets the surprise of his life as one of his incoming patients is 20 weeks pregnant with twins. And surprise, it’s famous idol Ai Hoshino.

Oof. I’m sorry, seeing them talk to a 16-year-old girl who is pregnant is not a pleasant topic I like to talk about nowadays. You all know the country I hail from and how angry I get talking about real world topics.

Gorou took care of Ai for the next twenty weeks to ensure a safe and healthy delivery. The night Ai went into labor, Gorou was murdered by a man who asked him about the whereabouts of Ai. In his final moments, Gorou recalled a conversation he had with Sarina about what it would be like to be the children of a famous idol.

With that, Gorou died and is reincarnated as one of Ai’s twins (named Aqua). The other twin (named Ruby) was Sarina reincarnated. We watch Aqua and Ruby grow as Ai’s children. But their identies were shielded from the public due to fear of Ai’s career being ruined forever. Still though, when Ai is with her children, it’s some of the happiest moments of Ai’s life considering her life prior to idol fame was dreadful. As for the kids, Aqua got into acting and Ruby got into dancing. And even though it took several years, Ai’s popularity began to grow past just being a teen idol and was ready to perform at a super dome. This happiness was shattered.

The stalker that killed Ai’s doctor stabs Ai in her residence and with Aqua as a witness. In Ai’s final words, she was able to give out a sincere “I love you” to her children. Ai is dead. The stalker killed himself. The children’s biological father could be the source of all that has just occurred. Aqua is ready for revenge.

Now, at age 16 is when the real story begins for Aqua and Ruby. Ruby has ambitions of becoming an idol like her mother, but Aqua wants her to steer-clear away from that business because of what happened to their mother. That doesn’t stop Ruby’s ambitions as she ends up restarting her mother’s old idol group B Komachi. As for Aqua, he gets several television appearances. He has no interest in that stuff, but this is the only way to get answers about Ai and their possible biological father as he might be the key or the reason behind Ai’s demise.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: Oh good! Rie Takahashi is in the main cast. Oh…she plays Ai. That’s just sad. So, is Ai still technically a main character even though she gets killed by episode 1? Just curious! As for the sub, Sentai has a dub out. My premature thoughts went straight to Monica Rial. I’m sniffing around to see if she’s even in this. I can sense Rial up in here.

several research voice actor moments later

Okay, Monica Rial isn’t part of the main cast…but her sister is. I was close and thought that either one or both Rial sisters were going to be there. I thought these people did a good job considering the major hype to the anime. I know I usually never give glowing recommendations for any dub done by Sentai. This, they did fine with. This is my first time hearing most (if not all) the main cast.

JAPANESE CAST: *Aqua is played by Takeo Ootsuka (known for Tem on Beastars)

*Ruby is played by Yurie Igoma

*Ai is played by Rie Takahashi (known for Emilia on Re:Zero, Tomo on Tomo-chan is a Girl, Megumin on Konosuba, Ena on Laid-Back Camp, Sumi on Rent-A-Girlfriend, and Mash on Fate/Grand Order)

ENGLISH CAST: *Aqua is played by Jack Stansbury (known for Mendou on Urusei Yatsura 2022)

*Ruby is played by Alyssa Marek

*Ai is played by Donna Bella Litton (known for Ran on Urusei Yatsura 2022)

SHIPPING: This…can get really ewwie really fast.

Gorou’s obsession with Ai was borderline Lolita fetish. A grown-ass man obsessing over a 16-year-old idol can get really creepy really fast. I do give him props as he remained completely professional as Ai’s OB-GYN. Now, what happens when Gorou dies and is reborn as Aqua? Oh, he loves Ai! It’s just that Aqua was careful as humanly possible. That’s my tip-toeing around the scene where Aqua turns down being breast fed by Ai. Ruby doesn’t mind drinking from Ai’s teat.

16-year-old Aqua kept getting asked by his castmates for the reality show he was in what his ideal woman was. He tip-toes around it, but we all know he’s describing Ai. His mother! A woman who died over 10 years ago. And again, HIS MOTHER! Though, nobody else knows that fact so he just tip-toes around it by being as discreet as humanly possible. Because of Aqua’s looks, he’s a prime target for thirsty girls at his school. But thanks to the reality show he was in; he ends up in a fake relationship with Akane. Totally doesn’t help that Akane starts acting like Ai! Because those two “hooked up” during the reality show, they must keep up appearances with their relationship in the public eye.

We could end that shit topic here if not for little miss Kana being little miss tsundere whenever Aqua is around. Oh boy, Kana is a true tsundere here.

SADDEST MOMENT: That first episode killed it in more ways than one. There’s no doubt that every main character here has had their hardships in the past. Ai had parents that abandoned her and she winds up in an orphanage. When Ruby was Sarina, she was suffering from that rare brain cancer where it was a struggle just to walk. And as for Aqua, they never did find his original body. But I was not prepared for what happened when Ai answered that door in episode 1.

I was thinking that stalker guy was the father of Aqua and Ruby and we’re going to have this whole thing throughout the series. Instead, when I watched this guy try to kill Ai, I immediately got flashbacks of Selena. Oh yeah, who could forget that death?

Yes, everything about Ai’s final words killed me. The animation, the delivery, everything! And Rie Takahashi knocked it out of the park!

DO THESE STORIES LOOK FAMILIAR TO YOU?: So, I might be going out on several limbs here but hear me out. Watching Oshi no Ko, do you draw any kind of correlation to any character’s backstory and seen it with an actor who might have gone through this same sort of thing? This story delves into the dark side of the entertainment industry and mostly in Japan. But being American, I can’t help but draw connections to the sad stories I would see in the entertainment industry in the U.S.

When I watched a crazed fan attack Ai, I will always immediately think of what happened to Selena. Seeing Kana try to stay relevant due to being a child actor, I think of a lot of child stars that went on after the height of their careers and while there are some success stories, there’s…well, it didn’t end well for actors like Bobby Driscoll and Dana Plato. Look both of those up, it’s quite tragic. I know these are American actors and most of the story is revolved around what happens in the Japanese entertainment industry. I’m just using these an example because I learned about these tragedies and lived through some of them (especially Selena’s death). Despite all of those stories being decades old, a lot of dark things still take place in this day and age. And with the addition of social media, being an entertainer has become worse.

The Akane storyline…ouch. First of all, social media comments are toxic. I will admit, I used to “Egosurf” a lot in my 20s when I was somewhat relevant on certain sites. It did not do well for my mental health. But I’m not like Akane. I’m not an entertainer. I’m a dork that likes to write reviews for animes and proud of it. If someone on Tumblr tells me I suck, I just ignore it. I probably won’t even see it knowing me. Tee-hee! Back to the matter at hand though. Akane wasn’t really seen as anything special in the reality show she was in with Aqua. She didn’t stick out as much as her other co-stars. Despite it being kinda like a reality show, these kids are still acting or doing what their supervisors say. Akane decides to do something impulsive and it backfired. BADLY!

This resulted in people on social media exploding with hatred for Akane with the most disgusting of messages telling her she’ll never act again or just blunt ones that say “Just die”. Despite the episode clearly stating this is a “work of fiction”, you know they got inspired by the real-life tragedy of Hana Kimura. Kimura was a female professional wrestler for the most part. In 2019, she was in a reality show called Terrace House. During an episode, Kimura got in a verbal argument with one of the castmates. From what I’ve read, they asked her to stir the pot a bit and fight with the other castmate. After this episode aired, fans took to social media and posted a lot of hate-filled messages towards Kimura. This sent her in a deep depression. Two months after this episode aired and all of the horrible messages were blasted at top speed, Hana Kimura committed suicide.

I don’t want to say Oshi no Ko blatently used this one particular story for the Akane storyline. But I’m also not saying that either. This is eerily too similar. It also doesn’t help that this episode aired days before the anniversary of Kimura’s death. I know it’s coincidence, but weird-ass timing. Thank God Aqua saved her from jumping off the bridge. While Oshi no Ko is a work of fiction, what happened to Hana Kimura was not. And bullying the woman’s family is not helping anything whatsoever. Yes, Kimura’s mother is pissed at the anime for airing a story similar to the events that drove her daughter to suicide. She has that right! Don’t bully her because she’s mad at everyone involved with Oshi no Ko. If I was in her shoes, I’d probably be pissed too and for a long time too. Moving away from that dumpster fire…

And the biggest kudos goes to Hidive. At the end of episode 6, they put up a message to prevent suicide and well, you know what? I’m going to do so here too.

As someone who has unfortunately been in dark places like some of these characters, I encourage others to seek out help as well.

ENDING: Since the events of episode 1, we watched what Ruby and Aqua want to do with their lives. Ruby is committed to becoming an idol like her mother. Slowly throughout the season, she and Kana joined Ai’s old production company and started up the idol group Ai was in, B Komachi. It was just the two of them until the end of the reality show Aqua was in. That’s when Aqua suggested to his castmate Mem-Cho that she should become an idol in the B Komachi revival. This is an interesting mixture for an idol group with the daughter of an idol (though nobody knows that fact), a former child star, and a Youtuber that’s 25 going on 16 depending on her applications.

Kana puts up a brave face in front of Ruby and Mem-Cho. But you can tell that Kana is scared. She’s been tossed around since becoming older, nobody bought her single when she recorded songs, her own mother even gave up on her, and all of these rejections kinda caught up to Kana. Regardless, Kana went up on stage with Ruby and Mem-Cho as a rookie idol. B Komachi got their chance at an idol festival to perform. It’s a start compared to a lot idols in other animes. On stage, it was clear that the audience was mostly there for Mem-Cho due to her popularity through the reality show and her Youtube channel. But Ruby got some attention from an audience member who remembered the original B Komachi and noticed Ruby kinda got that same aura as Ai.

Kana felt a little despair while performing on stage. But then we get a déjà vu trip as Aqua is in the audience doing a glow stick dance. Yeah, it was a lot like what happened when Ai was performing, doubt was swarming her, and then the twins start doing a glow stick dance. I guess the performance went well. It’s just that after that we see more tsundere moments from Kana. Mem-Cho finally sees that Kana likes Aqua. And then there’s some friction when we learn that Kana and Akane know each other and are rivals. And when I say rivals, I mean they are like Ash Ketchum and Gary Oak in the first season rivals, they are catty bitches. They’ve been at it since they were children.

A popular anime is about to be adapted as a stage musical. Akane and Kana are set to be in this production. The gentleman that Aqua has been in contact for a while now set him up with a role in that same stage musical. This theater company was apparently where things changed for Ai when she was an up-and-coming idol.

Could this be Aqua’s big lead to possibly meeting his biological father? That’s a question that won’t be answered today. At least season two is greenlit.

Soooooo…after watching episode 1 and the hype that came along with it, did the rest of the season grab my attention? Yes. It totally did. I mean it wasn’t at the hype it was when I had just watched episode 1. After one viewing of episode one, I had to tell anyone who would listen to me that this was awesome. There were however several other episodes that grabbed me. Yes, it was the Akane-centered episodes. Let’s just say any time I saw moments with Kana and Ruby trying to do idol stuff before Mem-cho came were a little boring. I just felt like they were just there and nothing else. Probably just a reminder that yeah, they exist, now let’s go back to Aqua doing what he’s doing.

Am I excited for season two? Oh yes, I am. I’m doing my best not to look at any manga spoilers. It’s hard. Every so often, a spoiler drops on Twitter and you just want to look. Or someone on Youtube will say something about a new chapter and you just want to take a quickie. NOPE! I’m going to stay strong and just practice good patience.

Medea read up about Aqua and Ruby’s father

No self control whatsoever! Not one iota of it. Whenever season two drops, it’s going to be a biggie. Will the anime continue to be a smashing hit when it returns? That’s for the future to decide. I truly hope for the best. As long as they stay with the original material and the same studio that’s animating it, I think we’ll be good. Full recommendation!

FINAL (IDIOTIC) THOUGHT: So, is Ai going to be the next member of Franchouchou on Zombieland Saga?

…I’m going to sit in the corner and think about what I just wrote.

All 11 episodes are available on Hi-Dive.

#anime review #oshi no ko #aquamarine hoshino #ai hoshino #ruby hoshino #mem-cho #kana arima #akane kurokawa #sarina tendouji #gorou amemiya

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fablecore · 2 years

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Feel free to ignore this, it Will Be Long, Probably.

I've been faffing around with this message for the past week or so but my brain won't let me rest until I word-vomit my adoration for your work and mind-mechanics at you.

I had to have re-read MNP about three or four times in said past week, and am currently on the probably fifth one, but who really knows at this point. I may have a slight problem.

The point I'm trying to make is that the pineapple witch has worked her magic on me as she has on so many others. Every re-read seems to pull me deeper. Even though I know exactly what will happen at this point, I still laugh at every mean quip, still gasp at every tense moment, still read through blurry eyes at Several Chapters That Shan't Be Named.

I honestly lack the vocabulary and word-sense to express myself properly, but I'll try anyway, because if nothing else your writing deserves to be sung its praises.

Your story made me honestly and critically consider the world with open eyes.

I find a lot of myself in Sophie. A little too much. A little too weird. A little bit sheltered, maybe naive. Blindfolded and ear-muffed would be a decent metaphor. It's been hard, growing out of that, but I've been trying. And reading your work has helped a lot.

Your writing, for lack of better wording, sparks. It's life, and joy, and familial banter, and struggle with all its ugly faces, and yes it's angry and vicious and unforgiving too. It slaps you with a novel view of the world and you either agree and move on or are forced to contemplate why exactly it rubs you the wrong way.

The care with which you crafted the story is evident in every word and comma and period. Several foreshadowed moments had me gripping my head and moaning in pain because I Knew what was coming, but I had to keep reading to find out how it impacts the world you built. The characters are lived in, and the dialogue flows so naturally it feels as if you're right in the middle of the bantering and arguing.

Which brings me to my next point: roomboom. I want to put them in my mouth and never let go.

They seem made for each other, and yeah they probably are, but you ruined all other Law ships for me. And to be honest all other OP crews too beside the Hearts. I love all the idiots to bits and pieces.

But back to roomboom. They're a particular flavour of weird devotion I didn't know I was looking for in my ships and will now never find again. I will be eternally forced to re-read MNP for a glimpse of what true love is. I hope you're happy.

The candid way they treat each other, the way they fit like puzzle pieces with their weirdo interests and weirdo personalities, the way they're their own people with Several Issues, but somehow seem to work out still despite their differences. The deep respect they have for each other and the people in their lives. The way they went from (I hate you and wanna beat you up why won't you die) to (I love you and wanna beat you up please let me die with you) is just... unbearable.

Their journey has been a long and winding one, amd still has some mole-hills ahead, but they've given me hope that for every weirdo out there, even a frizzy-haired, burnt-to-hell, panic farting alchemist-witch, there is an even weirder person waiting for them.

TLDR; I want to put the entirety of your writing into my mouth and swallow it, and also would it be alright to make a personal use bookbind of MNP because I need it in my hands.

(I'm deep in Cherry Bomb Alchemy atm, love how they already married and divorced like 5 times, peak roomboom energy, keep up the good work)

thank you so much, oh my goodness. my heart is so full ❣️ "for every weirdo out there, there is an even weirder person waiting for them" made me laugh. it's so true.

the thing about growing up is it never ends. it often takes a strong electric shock to get the ball rolling, and i'm happy mnp could be that for you. books were also my first step into the world beyond me. it's a really special feeling. for as long as we live, let's cherish it 😎 👍

please bookbind mnp! and please take photos! seeing it would mean everything to me, i think i would cry 😭🤍💗

i appreciate this message so much. i'm a slow writer, but i will keep trying my best. and i hope the world perceives you as wonderfully as you have perceived me. have a great day 💐💐💐

#letters #宝 #sophiefic

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borathae · 10 months

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Hi Sibi!!!! Ahhhh I got so behind with the chapters again 😭 work’s been quite chaotic lately and I just now had time to catch up with you and my sweet little MV babies, I missed them so much😭 but also having four chapters waiting for me it’s like a reward jdkdkkdkdkd so here goes my review in a long ask again (I’m sorry jskskskks)

Chapter 29 was so damn sweet Sibi what the fuck 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK GOD the blood was just from her nightmare! You really had me thinking the worst with those out of context lines Sibi jskskksksksksks anyways everything about the chapter was so extremely sweet and lovely and GOD I love these two little idiots so much 😭 they just needed to talk! Both of them were torturing themselves thinking the other hated them,the miscommunication and the wrong images they had about the other was breaking their hearts as fast as it was tearing them apart and that’s just so 😭 I’m so glad they finally had THE TALK and realised that NOTHING will change the love and admiration they have for each other EVER 🥺 but like I said this two little lovely idiots need to start communicating their feelings in a normal way and not pushing it to the limits of Kook having to do an intervention or finally talking while being inside memories jskskkskskskss but it was so incredibly cute and lovely and just so so sweet.

I really loved how Yoongi Boongie got to show his sillier side with her 🥹 they were having so much fun with the flower crowns and then with the snowball fight, I really hope that Yoongi can now feel a little bit more comfortable with being silly with her because happiness and silliness fits him so well 🥹 and it made him remember memories from when he was a human! Happy ones! 😭 I also could hear Yoongi screaming “Medic! Medic!” So clearly jskskskksksksksk I love his oscar worthy dramatic ass jsksksksksksk like that my baby having the time of his life 🥹 oh Sibi AND HIS HEARTBEAT?!!!!! Oc feeling his heartbeat for the first time??? Aaahhhhhhhhh I just- I’ll go cry in the corner for them cause that was sooo emotional 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭they need to stop being like this (not really please keep them being even sweeter and even more in love😭)

And I’m so so so happy that they talked about their future and inmortality even if it was very lightly like I’m glad Yoongi know that she wants AND plans to give up her mortality for him because she wants to spend eternity with him, like this baby has been going over the idea of using that blade to be mortal again because he wants that and because he doesn’t want her to give up being human BUT for her the most important and precious thing is to get to live eternally with him just like Tae told him, now he finally understands how MUCH she loves him even to the extend of giving up her mortal life 🥺

Chapter 30 Sibi 🥴🥴🥴 first of all waking up in the morning and the first thing you see is a sleeping Min Yoongi in all his cute and beautiful glory? Oc is really leaving THE dream, THE life jsksksks you go lucky queen 👑 but also here ai am once again asking for a Yoongi Boongie in my life jsskksksk AND SECOND… AAAAAAAHHHHJSJSKSJSJSBSJKSKSKSLSKKSJSJSKOAKSJSBSBJSJSSSJJSJSHAHAHHAHAHKLSKSKS I CAN NOT! My brain? Completely melted into a super horny goo jsksskskskssk what the fuckkkkkk???? Min fucking Yoongi you terrible terrible menace! Him going from a sunny whiny baby to full on dom? Thank you Sibi for keeping us well fed jdkdkdk gosh I love him so much, I love them so much I truly love how he can let his walls completely down with oc and be vulnerable to the point of letting his more dominant persona slip, oc really is a queen for treating him like the sweetest king he is, like yes my sweet love you deserve to receive pleasure as much as you give it LET👏🏻YOURSELF👏🏻BE👏🏻ON👏🏻THE👏🏻RECEIVING👏🏻END👏🏻GET👏🏻THAT👏🏻BOOTY👏🏻ATE👏🏻 jsksksks he deserves it more than anyone and I’m happy he has oc by his side to get it into his head one way or another 🥺 but also he’s a fucking menace once he gets control back holy shit there’s not that much that I can say other that holy shot cause my brain after this chapter truly melted, horny and endeared by how tender and loving both of them are while still fucking like crazy, I’m this 🥺🥴

I also love how talkative Yoongi gets post sex 🥺 he could finally share his insecurities with her so she can help him feel better about himself so he can enjoy more 🥺 AND GOD the part where he told her that he felt so tiny with her… it warmed my hard so bad 😭😭😭😭 just after saying a few chapters ago that he wanted to feel tiny and taken care of just once because he was so tired of always being the big bad creator and all what that embodied to now him telling her in one of his most vulnerable moments that he feels tiny and safe when he’s with her 😭🥹 I LOVE THEM AND I ONLY WANT HAPPINESS AND LOVE AND SAFETY FOR THEM 😭

Oh and chapter 31! Omg they weren’t normal nightmares!!!! That’s why the effect they had on her was so strong, baby was truly going insane because Suzy was mentally torturing her to the point of her giving up so she could take control 😭😭😭😭 thank god she finally told Yoongi about the nightmares otherwise Suzy could have had succeeded on taking over her without anyone noticing or being able to help 😭 I’m soooooo happy our oc is FINALLY free from her nightmares and all the pain and suffering that bitch was causing her, it was so hard for her I hope that she can now start to heal from the feelings of killing someone (an absolutely terrible someone) now that she’s free from her mind games AND free from the assumption of everyone hating her for what she did 🥺 baby deserves happiness with her lovely little family 🥺 her goodbyes to the rest of the group in case she didn’t comeback made me cry! Especially Hobi and Kookie 😭😭😭 Sibi why are you like this? 😭 I love how Jimin is just trying so hard to be better also and it just translates to him being super awkward and shy jskskskkss I love him jsksksks you go little Mimi you’ll get there eventually your a trying your best 🥹

I do have to say that I still don’t trust Frederick completely… 🤔 but I do feel honesty in him saying that his happy for Yoongi and I think this time Yoongi could feel that too since he didn’t control his mind to change things? I was like “oh? 👀 mmh idk still sus 🤨 but oh indeed“ I’m curious to know what this guy has going on… can he really be trusted? Is just his wife being a total bitch that makes him sus? I don’t know yet 🤨

Also please Yoongi needs to stop being so sweet and cute all the fucking time 😭😭😭😭😭 I want to squish him and tell him how loved and cute he is, love that oc is already doing that jskskskskks but 😭😭😭😭 so fucking cute, AND he also needs to stop (please never stop) talking to her like he’s proposing to her every time cause is not going well for my mental health jsksksksk when he was telling her how she was his “land” and he wanted to know her completely so he can take care and respect her properly like one is supposed to do with a new found land that signifies a new beginning like my sweet dude STOOOOPPPPPPPP IM GONNA CRY HES SO LOVELY AND SO IN LOVE IT HURTS OC YOU LUCKY GIRL WTF SQUISH HIM AND SMOOCH HIM 24/7😭😭😭😭 (this man gosh! MV Yoongi AND real Yoongi really trigger my cuteness aggression daily, he’s just a little guy 🥺👌🏻)

Chapter 32

Noooo Hobi jsjsksjjsksjsjsksjjsjsjsksksn Hes so funny AND terrible and the same time, of course he would get it on with not one but TWO witches and be all cocky about being destroyed by them sjskkskshsjsjsjskss he just wants his friends to congratulate him for fucking two witches jsskksksskksks that’s Doctor Love for you sjksksksks I love this kinky little perv so much my little sunshine boy skskkskskjsjsk I also loved how Jimin is in his friendly bickering fase with oc 🥹 I want them to be good friends 😭 and how lovely was to see them back home 😭 oc back in her greenhouse again greeting her plants and giving Yoongi a little tour 🥺 will we get see her giving Kookie a tour too? I think he would accidentally stop listening to her five minutes in from how pretty she looks while talking about her plant friends, no sound entering his ears just a lovely visual of his baby being happy and excited, he would probably apologise and try to concentrate on what she’s saying so hard hksksksks also I know I said it before but I LOVE when Kook calls her baby 😫 it affects just like Yoongi calling her princess and Tae calling her Sweetest does I LOVE IT, and on another note, seeing them ALL, like the whole family having dinner and playing board games at the state like the happy family they deserve to be warms my heart so muchhhh please I want happiness and fluffy domesticity for them all 🥺 seriously everything’s is just too fine, too good? WHAT IS COMING FOR US IN THE NEXT CHAPTERSSJSJKSKSKSKSK?????

I seriously FEEL like after this chapter shit is starting to go down fast because why does it feel like the ending?! 😭 everything is fine, everyone’s happy, no more going from city to city, no more nightmares just happy life at the state BUT THEN Yoongi is going away again and alone?! Like no sir, that’s not possible ✋🏻 I do think that after the conversation he had with oc about the feelings he has regarding killing Namjoon he’s going to start to really consider looking for alternatives that could maybe bring him back instead… considering how oc told him she would get mad and told him right away to start looking for other ways so he doesn’t have to live with the weight of killing someone that at some point was so dear to him 😔 GOSHHHH i know you said this story has happy ending but I’m dying here cause I can feel the ANGST coming jsksksksskks and I just want my babies to be happy, I know you do too, this is terrible jsksksksskksksksks anyways! I loved these later chapters so much SO MUCH FLUFF AND SWEETNESS😭 and I’m so excited for what’s to come too!!! I hope that work doesn’t get in the way of me enjoying the chapters on the day they come out anymore jdkdkdkskjsksksksjskks thank you for your lovely writing once again Sibi! 💜💜💜

-Shy anon

Okay so I'll put all my answers under read more fjadsjf

Chapter 29

I’m so glad they finally had THE TALK and realised that NOTHING will change the love and admiration they have for each other EVER 🥺 but like I said this two little lovely idiots need to start communicating their feelings in a normal way and not pushing it to the limits of Kook having to do an intervention or finally talking while being inside memories

YES GOSH THIS!!! This is definitely something these two need to work on together, but I'm so proud of them that they are finally starting to see that they can actually talk about their stuff. Here is to a better future between them (she says after the last chapter dropped ahahhahahhah bye)

I also could hear Yoongi screaming “Medic! Medic!” So clearly jskskskksksksksk I love his oscar worthy dramatic ass jsksksksksksk like that my baby having the time of his life 🥹

THIS HAHAHA I could hear it clearly as well :( he is so fucking CUTETETETE :(((((

oh Sibi AND HIS HEARTBEAT?!!!!!

HIS HEARTBEAT!!! 😭😭😭

this baby has been going over the idea of using that blade to be mortal again because he wants that and because he doesn’t want her to give up being human BUT for her the most important and precious thing is to get to live eternally with him

THEM THEM THEM

Chapter 30

first of all waking up in the morning and the first thing you see is a sleeping Min Yoongi in all his cute and beautiful glory? Oc is really leaving THE dream, THE life

SHE IS SO FUCKING LUCKY ISTFG I AM CLAWING AT THE WALLS I WANT THIS FNADSFNADN

I love him so much, I love them so much I truly love how he can let his walls completely down with oc and be vulnerable to the point of letting his more dominant persona slip, oc really is a queen for treating him like the sweetest king he is, like yes my sweet love you deserve to receive pleasure as much as you give it

YES THIS!! istfg L I love him so much and I love them so much and I love that they are both so vulnerable and open with each other L I honestly think that their emotionally safe sex is gonna help Yoongi so so much with opening up. Like idk it’s the entire aspect of “being naked with someone” quite literally and figuratively which just MAKES ME SO FNADFN

LET👏🏻YOURSELF👏🏻BE👏🏻ON👏🏻THE👏🏻RECEIVING👏🏻END👏🏻GET👏🏻THAT👏🏻BOOTY👏🏻ATE👏🏻

YES KING LET YOURSELF GO!!! YOU DESERVE IT!!!

but also he’s a fucking menace once he gets control back holy shit there’s not that much that I can say other that holy shot cause my brain after this chapter truly melted

BRUH SAME fnadnf he is sfuckingfkdakfhot fjadjf

AND GOD the part where he told her that he felt so tiny with her… it warmed my hard so bad 😭😭😭😭 just after saying a few chapters ago that he wanted to feel tiny and taken care of just once because he was so tired of always being the big bad creator and all what that embodied to now him telling her in one of his most vulnerable moments that he feels tiny and safe when he’s with her

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIST HSIT she is his safe space I AM FUCKING CRYING ON THE FLOOR 😭😭😭😭

Chapter 31

baby deserves happiness with her lovely little family 🥺

YES THIS!!! I want my baby OC to be happy and happy and happy!!!!

I love how Jimin is just trying so hard to be better also and it just translates to him being super awkward and shy jskskskkss I love him jsksksks you go little Mimi you’ll get there eventually your a trying your best 🥹

HE IS SO CUTE JAFDJSF istfg I love him so much haha he is so awkward and I love him so much fadjf

I honestly think that the best indicator for how trustworthy Fredrick is, is Yoongi fjadsjf I truly think that if Yoongi was still doubting Fred, he would have deleted his memories again 👀

Also please Yoongi needs to stop being so sweet and cute all the fucking time 😭😭😭😭😭 […]when he was telling her how she was his “land” and he wanted to know her completely so he can take care and respect her properly like one is supposed to do with a new found land that signifies a new beginning like my sweet dude STOOOOPPPPPPPP IM GONNA CRY HES SO LOVELY AND SO IN LOVE IT

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I AM SUFFERING BECAUSE OF THIS MAN jfajdsfj like, I gave myself such HIGH standards when I created him fjadjfa now I don’t want anyone else except my cutie pattootie Boongie. Like if my future man ain’t fucking calling me “his land” I don’t fucking need him fandfna

Chapter 32

I love this lil dude so much hahahah he is so comfortable with his sexuality LIKE AS FUNNY AS IT IS it’s already really fucking refreshing to see someone so openly see sex as “something normal and not shameful” LIKE PLEASE YES CONTINUE BEING SO COMFORTABLE WITH BEING A KINKY PERV HAHAH

will we get see her giving Kookie a tour too? I think he would accidentally stop listening to her five minutes in from how pretty she looks while talking about her plant friends, no sound entering his ears just a lovely visual of his baby being happy and excited, he would probably apologise and try to concentrate on what she’s saying so hard hksksksks

YES OMFG THIS!!! HOLY FUCK THIS IS SO KOOK CODED HAHAHA he would either stop listening because he is gazing at her or he would stop listening because he got busy watching some bugs or studying plants. While OC is all busy talking, which then ends in her continuing to walk while he stays back and it takes the two of them way too long to realise that she is talking to the air and Kook lost her HAHAHAH

also I know I said it before but I LOVE when Kook calls her baby 😫 it affects just like Yoongi calling her princess and Tae calling her Sweetest

BRO S A M E fjadfja

I seriously FEEL like after this chapter shit is starting to go down fast because why does it feel like the ending?!

Oops 😶

#asks: magnus venatio #asks #shy anon #reviews #long post

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pearblossommina · 1 year

Text

I met my first girlfriend when I was 17. She was the only out lesbian in our school, and I was drawn to her even though we didn’t have very much in common.

I was the weird, dreamy girl with anime stickers on my locker and a backpack full of books.

She was the cool goth who drove a moped and worked at the Baskin Robins. I once wrote a poem about how perfect I thought it was that she, a lesbian, worked there. Something about how lesbians and ice cream are synonyms. Sweet and unspoiled. Working in the chilly, refrigerated air.

When I look back on it now, I can admit that she was my girlfriend. But at the time, I never used the word. I thought she was just my friend, a girl I got into trouble with, a girl my parents disliked, a girl I sometimes made out with, a girl I eventually lost my virginity with.

Back then, the bi erasure was so bad, I had convinced myself I was straight. “I can’t be a lesbian,” I told myself, “because I like boys.” I wanted to be a lesbian so badly, but I didn't think it was honest. And I wouldn’t allow myself to call myself bisexual. The only bi people I had met were the kind of girls who just want to make out one time at a party, show off in front of their boyfriend, and then go back to him, leaving me standing there like an idiot and believing that declaring yourself “bi” somehow meant “I’m straight, but I kiss girls at parties”

So I was straight.

Even when I was with her.

Even when I snuck into her room at night, tapping on the window until she let me in.

Even when we would steal her dad’s car to drive up to the local make out spot just to stare at the stars.

Even the first time she let me drive her moped, and she sat right behind me, pressed up against me with her arms around my waist, reaching forward to grip the throttle, her fingers against mine, taking us to an exhilarating max speed of 40 miles per hour.

Even the time we shared an ice cream cone on Valentine’s Day, and she found a way to sneakily kiss me, delivering the kiss warmed m&m’s because I complained about how the ice cream made the candy too hard.

I told myself, she’s my friend, we are best friends, but we’re just friends. This is what friends do.

That’s probably why I like it so much when characters in fiction are explicitly bisexual. AND why Heartstopper, specifically, is such a sensational read for me. I love Charlie insisting that “bi people exist” and Nick questioning and coming to terms with his sexuality.

I just never had access to books like that when I was growing up. I think it would have helped me understand myself, lol.

Anyway. I’m just kinda thinking about this girl, lately. Thinking about the way we were both assigned to read Night by Elie Wiesel in high school.

I’m not trying to say this book didn’t effect me, but it REALLY affected her. She was totally emotionally devastated by it. It was all she could think or talk about for weeks.

And…. She told me something amazing. She said that she had never read a book before. She was so affected by this book because, it was, essentially, the first book she ever read to completion.

Just imagine

If the first book

You ever read

Was a bare-facts account of the horrors of the Holocaust

And what that might do

To your adolescent brain

(To anyone’s brain)

I’m thirty four, and I haven’t read this book since I was a teenager, but I cried this morning just thinking about it. How one survivor could have endured so much torment, only for the world to end up the way it is. Only for pop stars like Kanye West to endorse Hitler on a far right talk show. How very grimly, uniquely, dystopian it all is.

I don’t need to state that I think Hitler is evil and anyone who admires him or makes “devil’s advocate” arguments is also a STAUNCH PEICE OF SHIT.

But I will anyway

(Kanye is awful)

I guess I just wanted to ramble

Because I was thinking about her today. Thinking about all of it. How long ago, I guess, it was. How fast life goes. And how books matter, and how representation matters, and how I wish I could have had the kinds of books we have today, 20 years ago when I needed them.

I kind of want to re-read Night, now, but I ALSO know it would mess me up.

I think about how reading memoirs about real, actual, horrifying events might be kind of hard for a 17 year old to process… and at the same time, I'm glad that I had the kind of teachers who CARED, who were there to EDUCATE. It's so scary that nowadays, conservative moguls are advocating for “both sides” hard enough that books like this can be cut from the curriculum.

I dunno

I'm not a parent but if I had a teenager, I would want them to read this book

#blogging #blah blah blah #personal stuff #read more books #also cancel kanye

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nikoruistyping · 2 years

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i was thinking about this yesterday.

tony stark x fem!reader

reader is natasha's younger sister and they had a fight like yelena and natasha in black widow movie. and natasha manages to convince her to become an avenger like them, aaaaaand reader and Tony when they “meet” have flashbacks of a night they were together… they pretends that nothings happen but OH everyone notices something did between them. 🔥

An Old Flame || Tony Stark

Tony Stark x Romanoff!Fem!reader

Summary: Being Natasha’s badass little sister it was obvious that sooner or later she would try to convince you to join the Avengers and reluctantly you agreed. While she takes you to the Avengers Compound to meet the rest of the team the only person that shows up is none other than Tony Stark and once you take a look at him that's when you start to remember he was actually your one night stand years ago...

TW: Semi-Smut, Semi -Angsty, Sprinkle of Fluff, Adult Language/Cursing, Suggestive Dirty Talk, Playful Banter, Allusion to Sex, Kissing/ Intense Make Out, Mention of Fighting (Choking is mentioned once but as a joke), Mildly Awkward Encounter/Introductions

Word Count: 2,050

A/N: I had lots of fun writing this one just because I liked being able to just brain vomit something kinda smutty without it being 100% smut since my brain has 0 capacity for a full smexy scene at the moment. ALSO FYI I didn’t watch the Black Widow movie yet so I tried my best to research what happened and the whole thing about Yelena so sorry if that part of it isnt as accurate since I didn’t watch the movie! Regardless I hope you enjoy it Anon and thank you for the request!

You couldn't believe it, somehow your sister, Natasha, had stupidly convinced you to make the long journey to America to become an Avenger. At first, you were reluctant, very reluctant, but somehow you wanted to think after all these years of not seeing Nat you wanted a way to reconnect with her, and what better way than to join this so-called "team of earth's mightiest heroes". You told yourself to just act cool, act normal, and definitely don't curse anyone out in Russian, unless they were asking for it obviously. You weren't exactly the type to work in a team so this might be weird at first and even a bit stupid even since you often liked to work alone, chasing after your own missions and saving well whoever needed saving.

You followed your sister's lead and kept walking down the extremely long hallways of the compound but to you, it seemed more like a labyrinth if anything, it was probably the biggest building you had ever been inside. Your eyes tried absorbing in all your surroundings, staying alert, and focusing on any little thing that might have been off. You couldn't help it, was the inner badass assassin in you to be untrusting of almost anything and everything all at once. Nat looked over her shoulder to make sure you were ok and gave you a little smile as you walked behind her and you furrowed your brow at her.

"What are you looking at sis?!" You said in a tone that was defensive and clearly annoyed.

"Oh nothing, I'm just looking at the biggest idiot I know." A hearty laugh came from her and you just huffed and puffed annoyed while your eyes rolled at her.

"You're so annoying you know that?"

"But you still love me right?" She shot right back at you.

"Yeah...I guess." You mumbled under your breath hoping she didn't hear what you said. You hated to admit it but despite not being blood-related she was your sister and she always would be. Nat got on your nerves sometimes enough to maybe want to choke her, in this case, you weren't that annoyed but if she kept it up there might be a repeat of last time.

As the two of you turned the corner and walked into the commons room you weren't expecting to see just one Avenger, you thought that there would be at least four more people joining you. You squinted your eyes not being able to tell who it was from behind, something oddly familiar about his stance, the way he carried himself and he seemed to command the room. You heard a sigh come from Nat and you gave her a confused look, the two of you approaching the man. You were cautious as always, your hands already forming a clenched fist, just in case, you never know.

"What the heck Tony?! Where are Banner, Rodgers, Thor, and Clint?" Natasha raised her voice and you could tell she was now very annoyed, you were still picking your brain to remember who the man was. Tony? The name sounded all too familiar.

"Clearly not here, I'm just as dumbfounded as you Nat. How have ya been sweetheart, long time no see! How was the flight? No turbulence I hope." Tony rambled on with a little chuckle spinning around and he almost stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on you. He barely was even paying attention to what Nat was replying back to him in return, her voice became background noise at that point.

"Holy shit...Y/N..." He quickly said under his breath trying to avoid making eye contact with you but it was already too late for that and he took long strides over to the minibar and with shaky hands poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in less than two seconds.

"Tony are you ok? Are you having like a heart attack or something-" Natasha commented with a worried face.

"I might soon..." He mumbled once again under his breath and this time he flicked off his sunglasses in one swift movement, his eyes blinking and making direct eye contact with you.

You felt his brown eyes burn into yours and that's when things clicked. The more you focused on his face that's when you had a feeling you knew him from somewhere and the more you started to remember a blush started to grow across your face. How could you forget, it was probably the best fuck you ever had and it was none other than with Tony Stark.

Years ago you were following a lead, a very important one to see where the next black widow would be so that you could save her from the horrible brainwashing all of them had been through. It still clenched at your heartstrings knowing that they all were headed towards the same horrible fate and you wanted to save them, make them free once again.

You remember walking into the hotel bar with a little red dress, a slit on the side showing off all your assets and clearly, that caught the eye of Tony Stark. You weren't aware or barely even knew anything about him. At the time you had spent most of your time in Russia and your work kept you too occupied to be following otherworldly news unless the universe was in danger or something. You remember the way you sat on the barstool and immediately without needing to ask you were served a cocktail and Tony was already leaning against the bar next to the empty space beside you and the rest seems to come back in small flashes.

You remember laughing at his pick-up lines, leaning in closer to seduce him, biting your lip and knowing it drove him crazy, grabbing a hold of his tie and pulling him by it. You remember being completely distracted and losing sight of your lead entirely being as that night you were extra occupied with Tony's lips on yours, the pushing and pulling of your bodies together moving in sync. The way he hiked up your red dress, his fingertips grazing against your skin, the way he squeezed your ass under your dress, and how he whispered dirty little nothings into your ear all night long. Your hands roughly pushing him onto the bed, your fingers frantically unbuttoning his shirt until you basically ripped it off his body, your hips grinding against his, and heavy breaths and moans filling the room between hot kisses. Clothes went flying every which way and his hands gripped your hips, squeezing, his lips littering your neck in hickies and your fingers tugging and pulling his hair with all the pleasure he was giving you.

The rest all seemed like a big blur but you remembered that he was one of the very few men you had been with that actually stayed and wanted to care for you afterward. Making sure you were comfortable, kissing you more softly and delicate while he worshiped every part of your body. You were on cloud nine that night and yet you couldn't believe the same man was now standing right in front of you and he was none other than Ironman of the Avengers.

You shook your head trying to snap out of it and you looked away trying to focus on something else as you heard Natasha introduce you.

"You're being weird Stark but whatever," Natasha shook her head in disappointment, dismissing his weird behavior for probably being a bit drunk or tipsy even though it was quite early for day drinking.

"The whole reason why I wanted everyone to be here was that...this is our newest member of the Avengers, my sister Y/N. She is just like me, more annoying though but I'm sure we can handle her and she is going to be a great addition to the team." Natasha said proudly, putting an arm around you and hugging you close, her hand squishing your face and you kept a poker face or at least tried to while you smiled nervously.

"Y/N...I've heard a lot about you or more so what I mean is that I've already read your file, security measure." He says with a light shrug, taking a step closer to you and making sure to get a good look at you up close. You were just as beautiful just like he remembered and all the feelings from that night started to all comeback. You could feel your heart beating faster the more you stole glances at him.

"Clearly you have no regard for personal privacy Mr. Stark." You took a deep breath and gave him back a reply and mustering up the courage to play along into his little word games, two could play at that game.

"There is no privacy when you're around me. Let's just say I like to cross boundaries." He already caught on to what you were throwing right back at him, a smirk coming across his face while Natasha looked at Tony and looked at you and she could feel the sexual tension in the air, it was clear you both had some sort of past.

"Wait a damn minute, have you two met before?!" Natasha looks at you and you playfully push her away and you could see Tony putting back on his sunglasses as if to hide what he was really feeling at that moment.

"Of course not! What makes you think that?" Your voice almost cracked from the nervousness you were feeling yet somewhere deep inside you were actually kinda happy to see Tony again, maybe you could pick up where things left off.

"Because you both are acting pretty weird and I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to be able to feel the tension in this room right now." She motions between the space in between you and Tony.

"Nat please, that's just ridiculous! I'm just joking around, the usual me ya know." He chuckles nervously trying to evade even more questioning from her.

"Yeah...sure," Her voice paused as she drew out her sentence and squinted at you both.

"Anyways, Tony can you keep my sister company while I go look for the other knuckleheads? I'm sure they are around here somewhere." She trails off turning around and walking out of the commons room leaving just you and Tony now alone and left to your own devices.

"So...fancy meeting you here." That was all you were able to say as you turned towards him and your fingers were tapping against your leg.

"Yeah, quite the coincidence Ms. Y/LN. You look gorgeous by the way-" He was cut off mid-sentence when you had charged forward and grabbed his shirt almost by the collar and pulled him in to smash your lips against his, you were breathless and tired of waiting for him to make the first move.

It had been too many years too long being away from him and now that you remembered who he was you couldn't help yourself. All the feelings you had felt that night just poured over you and by the way his lips moved against yours he had no intention of stopping the kiss. The minute you felt his hands wrap around your waist you just kept leaning in closer the two of you taking steps back until your bodies hit the nearest wall. You let a moan slip from your lips while heavy panted breaths came from Tony, pulling away to gasp for air.

"How much time do you think we got?" You asked with swollen lips, looking up into his eyes.

"I'll gladly make as much time as you want sweetheart. Shouldn't I be buying you a drink first?" He replied back in his usual smart-ass way.

"Tony, just shut up and kiss me!" You declared just nodding your head and looking at him knowing that by the way you two were acting it was obvious you wanted to see where this went. Even if it meant having to work together as a team or badly trying to hide the fact that Tony was an old flame of yours that you wanted something more with. Regardless of how things would pan out you just hoped that being a part of the team meant you could be a part of an actual family and that you would possibly have Tony by your side along the way.

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thesevro · 3 years

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So I read desert rose and loved it. It gave me an idea for an imagine where Sukuna and the reader kinda have a relationship like Hades and Persephone. They meet at first, not fond of each other, but they start to understand each other and slowly they fall in love. Not just any love but one that's so deep that it envelops them, a love so deep its embedded into their soul. You can add smut if you want, I don't mind. I just thought that this would be amazing!

thank you for the first request i’ve received here on tumblr!!

this shit actually turned out longer than i thought it would. i got a little carried away. ahuhuhu~~ hope you enjoy this anon bby!!

WARNINGS: mentions of rape, sukuna calls you a whore and a slut AWOOGA, explicit smut

---

“No man has ever survived that curse.”

Her laugh cuts the air. It is dangerous. Snorting and derisive. The absolute opposite of the slack-jawed shock on his tattooed countenance.

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not a man.”

Her hands spin in a small, tight circle, focusing the cursed energy in the tiny space of power she traces with her hands. She stares at the man with unblinking eyes. Bears insults down on him with the laughter in her eyes.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethes, hissing at the scorn curling her mouth. He does not need his hands to form his own curse. It only takes another vilifying look at her for one more curse to fly in her direction. He breathes an aggravated breath through his nose as one of her servants takes the shot instead, performing the same technique with their own hands.

“Ooh, that one was a little weaker, don’t you think?” she mocks, then turns to her servant with a pleased smile on her lips. “Good boy.”

The boy simpers at the praise, leaning into the touch the woman pets onto his head. Sukuna loses control at the casualness, the apathy. To have such inferior, lowly beings smile in his presence… for them to have the fucking nerve to even meet his eyes…

He is the King of Curses. Whoever the fuck it is this woman may be, he knows he has to put her and her proletarian flunkeys in their damn places.

His four hands tremble as a wild rush of cursed energy pulses through his veins. A manic grin cuts his frown into a smile.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

But in the next moment, his hands begin to tremble for a wholly different reason. His blood goes cold.

“You know, you aren’t that bad-looking for someone with two faces and a mouth on their stomach.” The woman traces the frowning tincture of a smile on his stomach, arm raised into the air in order to reach it. She almost stands on her tip-toes. Even with her diminutive stature she seems to be the most powerful in the obliterated room.

When did she—?

“If you accept defeat, your highness…” A sharp, sardonic quip comes to make him fraught with wrath, “Then I might just let you live and have you become one of my menials instead. You could do plenty with those four arms of yours.”

Her fingers have opened the mouth on his stomach. Now she only tries to prick the pads of her strong fingers on the razor-edged ridges of teeth there, awaiting his answer with easy patience. Her hand grows sticky with his slobber.

“She could kill you in seconds, King,” the boy from earlier speaks up. “Could just grab that tongue in your stomach and wrench it upward ‘till the tip of it comes out one o’ your eye sockets.”

“Oh, don’t spoil my fun Jackie,” she says, still playing with the mouth on his abdomen. “I was planning to keep it a surprise for our man here.”

“I’ll be part of your fucking band of delinquents,” he interrupts, locking eyes with the woman, head lowered. “But you will make me the superior of the rest of your blue-collared pack of idiots.”

“You’re going to have to work for that, Ryomen-chan.” She flashes a smile at him. Her hand slips further into the mouth on his abdomen. He knows what she’s doing. Tempting him into trying to bite her hand off, if only so she could acquire an excuse to kill him.

And no one. No one fucking gave her the authority to call him Ryomen-chan.

“I don’t fucking care,” he snaps back at her, grabbing her hand before quickly relaxing his grip. He falters ever so slightly as something in her eyes goes dark, then with a begrudging gentleness slips her hand out of the mouth. “I’m already part of your ragged band of lackeys, bitch. So fucking tell me what it is you me to do.”

---

He hates her with his entire being. With each day that passes he thinks of slitting her throat open and raping her as she dies. It is a train of thought that has been of much prominence since he was forced to join her group of brainless monkeys.

And he hates this, too, but he can’t say it’s all that bad. It’s much better than letting the bitch climb onto his shoulders and stand on his head to gain the elevated vantage she constantly insists is necessary to scout the area. When she has the ability to fucking fly. Fucking dumbass.

So, yes. This isn’t… as demeaning as the rest of the orders she gives him.

“No, Ryomen-chan, you’re supposed to twist that strand over the middle one—oh, you’re hopeless.”

Scratch that.

“That is the middle strand, bi—Ms. (Y/N),” he disguises the anger shaking in his voice with a call of her title, then shoves the strands of hair between his fingers to the front of her face. “Are you fucking blind?”

“As opposed to your deluded delusion, Ryomen-chan, this is the middle strand.” She holds a lock of her hair, plucking it from between his fingers. Something thumps in his chest as her fingers brush his palm. “Are you blind? Now that would be a horrible addition to your already damaged brain.”

“Let me fucking try again then. Give it here.”

Jeez. No one said styling a woman’s hair would be this… toilsome.

“No, let me show you how to do it, Ryomen-chan. Sit down.”

His knees bend as she shoves him down onto the plush pillow she uses when presenting herself as the Queen of Curses (a title he finds himself unable to contradict, fuck). His brows furrow and he turns back to protest but she only grips his chin in her fingers, her eyes meeting his, and snaps his head forward.

“I said let me show you.”

Something thuds in his chest again. He wills for it to shut the fuck up.

Her hand falls from his face, though her fingers stroke the bottom of his chin with the fleeting touch of danger before her hand moves to twine into his hair. He sits still, the breathless tightness in his chest soon giving way to ennui as he watches her braid his hair from the mirror. He finds himself observing the way her eyes glaze over with focus as she styles his hair. For the quickest second he wonders how hazy her eyes would go with him inside her.

“Alright, done. Did you take notes, Ryomen-chan? That was an important… lesson…”

Her voice falters. He looks back at her and finds her eyes on his legs. Particularly on something protruding from between his thighs.

“Sukuna... I just braided your hair—”

“Not. Another. Word.”

---

The first time he slides inside her, it’s like fucking himself into heaven.

He makes no sound as he fucks her, as she lets him fuck her, but everything in his head has blurred together to narrow his vision to only the sight of her beneath him.

He’s missed fucking women. Missed being inside them. He hates the fact that she is better than any bitch he has ever shoved his cock into.

He tries to keep his head in the crook of her neck. But then her legs hook together from around his waist, fingers curling into the hands he’s pinned to her wrists, and she’s moaning like the bitch in heat she really is. The curiosity to watch her face as he fucks her overwhelms him completely.

The touch she shares with his hands is more intimate than it should be. It’s as if his hands keep her grounded, keep her here with him as he makes her cum.

Her back arches, and a third hand of his grips the small of her back to keep it arched, so that her stomach touches the mouth on his own abdomen.

For some fucking reason he wants to give her all the pleasure he can. Make her go cross-eyed. Fuck her 'till she goes stupid with sex.

He lets the mouth on his stomach fall open. The tongue there is long enough to slide between their bodies, wet enough to slither between them with ease. He smirks with the smile of a devil as the Queen of Curses, his only superior, cries out in pleasure as the tip of his tongue curls around the free space between their joined bodies. His tongue flicks her clit. Dips inside her to join the fullness of his cock. His eyes shut in lazy pleasure as she squeezes him tighter.

She has the body of a virgin. He can tell she’s only been touched once or twice in the past, judging from the way her dominance had fluctuated the moment she finished undressing him. Her touches were hesitant. Apprehensive. But for some reason she had also sought his pleasure, had taken his cock in her mouth and sucked not like an inexperienced little village girl but a masterful whore.

He says it now, “The Queen of Curses, Ms. (Y/N), now the desperate bitch of her King.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest as she trembles in the wash of her fourth orgasm. He knows how many she’s had. He’s been counting; plans to give her ten. “A slut in the sheets, a queen in the streets. How delightful.”

And this, this makes the slut cum.

And when she does, her authority returns. With a look of glaze-eyed intoxication in her eyes, she pushes his behemothic body off her, and rides him until he finally says her name.

And at that point, he knows not whether he is her whore, or she is his. All he knows is that it’s fucking good to be inside her, and that she sounds and feels better than any other hole he's fucked.

The next time he fucks her, there are braids in her hair.

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

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The Argument || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: you and peter get in a fight and the other avengers can’t help but overhear

a/n: i have like four things in my drafts right now that i can’t seem to finish, but i had a sudden burst of inspiration to write this instead of studying so here we are! hope you enjoy! (reader’s super power is similar to wanda’s in a way except with gold rather than red)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: lots of swearing, loud arguing, angst with happy ending

masterlist || request

You and your boyfriend Peter stood, glaring at each other from opposite corners of your bedroom. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides as you looked at him from across the room with anger mixed hurt written all over your face.

“Are you serious right now, Peter?” You asked him, raising your voice with each sentence. “Are you dead serious right now? You know I’m a fucking Avenger right? I’m sorry if me being around other guys makes you uncomfortable but it’s kind of part of my job.”

Peter huffed, rolling his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. “So what? This is my fault now?” He gestured towards himself, raising his voice at you.

“You’re the one who’s pissed at me because I’m nice to other guys.” You scoffed. “It’s fine, Peter. Next time a guy needs saving I’ll be sure to tell him that Spider-Man doesn’t trust his girlfriend so he’ll have to figure it out himself.”

At the words that just came out of your mouth, Peter laughed out loud. It wasn’t the sweet laugh you always loved hearing in the mornings or the one where he would find something so hilarious that he would be out of breath, but one that just screamed that he could not believe what you had just said.

“Me?” He shouted. “You’re the one who always gets mad at me for ‘getting too cozy with girls’. I’m doing my job! You see one photo of me saving a girl- from a fire might I add- and you don’t talk to me for two days because you were jealous. What do you want me to do?”

Peter bringing up this situation again just made you fume even more and he knew that. Despite the fact that you and Peter rarely fought, this instance had been mentioned in several arguments between the two of you, but you always held your ground.

You were now the one throwing your hands up in the air, beginning to pace across the room. “Oh! This fucking conversation again!” You shouted at him. “How many times do we have to go over this? When are you going to get it? She kissed you!”

You still remember every part of the footage from that day and the image had burned itself into your brain. It was a solo day for Spider-Man so you hadn’t found out until you had seen the news footage of your boyfriend swinging the girl to safety with her arms wrapped tightly around him and her head buried in the crook of his neck. Peter’s arm was wrapped securely around her waist as he assured her that everything was going to be okay. As soon as he stopped swinging, however, and landed her safely on the ground, she had placed her hands on either side of Peter’s masked face and pulled him into a kiss. Although he quickly scrambled out of it, you couldn’t help but feel sick seeing the image.

“I was wearing my mask, Y/n!” He shouted back, tugging on his hair in frustration. “It’s not like I went in to kiss her. She kissed me! I didn’t do anything!”

At his words, you stopped pacing and stomped across the room, stopping in front of your boyfriend. “You’re right, you didn’t do anything.” You spat. “She kissed you and yeah that’s fucked up, but you know what’s more fucked up? That you didn’t tell me! You knew some girl had kissed you and you just hoped I would never find out. Do you know what it was like to find out from a fucking news broadcast? Fuck, Peter! You lied to me about it!”

Peter took a deep breath, looking anywhere besides your face. “I’m not doing this.” He told you finally, shoving past you to reach the door and stomping out of your room.

Peter aggressively threw open your door and you yelled out of frustration before following him out the room. Your hands were once again balled into fists at your sides as you watched Peter stomp out of your bedroom and down the hallway leading up to the common room, all the while yelling at him to stop.

“Peter!” You shouted.

“I’m not talking to you like this!” He yelled back, his back still facing towards you. “When you calm down and admit that you’re wrong-“

He knew what he was doing and he knew it was just pissing you off to a new extreme. So much so, you could feel the golden glow of your magic radiating off your hands that were balled into fists at your sides.

When Peter continued walking with his back turned towards you, refusing to speak to you further, you flicked your wrist causing the magical glow to spread out from your hand to your boyfriend, forcing him to turn around and face you, stopping him in his spot.

“Don’t walk away while I’m talking to you.” You told him, the anger radiating from your body in the from of the golden glow of your magic surrounding you.

“Did you just use magic on me?” Peter asked in a mix of shock, disgust and anger.

What the two of you didn’t realize in the midst of your fuming rage at each other was that the two of you had stopped in front of the common room. What you also hadn’t noticed was that the room was occupied by some of your... colleagues.

“Did she-“ Sam began.

“She did.” Nat finished.

Peter and you continued to argue back and forth about the audacity of the other, oblivious to the others hearing every word and watching the two of you throw harsh words at each other. It was an endless argument concerning who had the right to be angry and the unanswerable question of who was really at fault. During which the rest of the group of revelers in the common room watched and listened.

“Who wants the bet this is about that girl that kissed underoos?” Tony asked.

“That? That was so long ago though.” Steve replied.

“A girl never forgets.” Nat finished, kicking back in her seat. “How would you feel if you saw someone kissing your girlfriend.” She asked Steve.

“Never had one.” Steve shrugged.

An awkward silence filled the room for a brief moment before Sam began again.

“Steve’s right.” He said. “What about yesterday when Y/n saved that guy from getting his car thrown by that giant android and it turned out to be her ex-boyfriend?”

The group collectively nodded their heads, remembering the events of yesterday and that night when Peter had become more awkward than usual after you confessed the situation to him.

You had never seen Peter so jealous before. The two of you met after you and Peter had graduated high school and with your busy schedules you were barely finding time to hang out with your friends, never mind meet new guys. Peter and your’s relationship was usually one of romantic bliss. Despite the chaos and danger occurring in each of your lives, there was barely an argument between the two of you besides the occasional mention of that one time.

You told Peter later that night about how you recognized the guy you saved as your ex-boyfriend from high school.You didn’t expect much of a reaction considering you had dated the guy so long ago and you were wearing your mask that covered the upper half of your face to maintain your secret identity. It wasn’t even as though he could recognize you- you were just doing your job. You told Peter out of wanting to be honest with him, not because you thought it mattered- because it didn't. Peter upon your confession, however, was standoffish the remainder of the night seeming to be lost in his own head.

You didn’t give it much thought and decided to give him his own space until this morning when he confronted you about it, leading to the heated argument the two of you were in right now.

“Both of you are right.” Wanda finally spoke up.

Everyone in the room then turned their heads to face her.

“Did you... did you read their minds?”

“No.” She told them. “These walls aren’t very thick.”

“Should we stop them?” Steve asked.

To that, both you and Peter shouted “No!”

That was the moment though where you both suddenly realized that there was a whole room of people watching as you and Peter argued. Both of you stopped arguing suddenly and turned to face the room full of your colleagues.

“Did you... um... hear all of that?” Peter asked, cooling off from the heated argument you two shared seconds before as he fiddled with his fingers, unable to meet their eyes.

“Do you even know how loud you two were being?” Tony asked, standing up from his seat. “It’s impossible not to hear. Both of you have to drop it-”

“But Mr. Stark-” Peter began.

“Nope.” Tony cut him off. “No ‘buts’. Are you two even listening to yourselves?”

“Tony-” Steve started, attempting to intervene and have Tony drop the situation.

“Listen Rogers, I know you’ve been waiting decades for a first date, but someone has to play couples counselor here.” He told him matter-of-factly turning back to face the two of you. “You.” He pointed at you first. “That kid would never ‘cheat’ on you okay? He worships the ground you walk on so drop it. I’m sick and tired of hearing this frankly idiotic conversation every other week.”

At his words, you felt your fists unclench at your sides and your muscles relax. You knew he was right. As hurt as you were, you knew Peter would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. You knew he loved you just as much as- if not more than- you loved him.

Just as you were about to open your mouth, Tony began again- this time pointing at Peter.

“And you.” He began. Although you were looking at Tony, you could see your boyfriend stiffen in the corner of your eye. “What did you want her to do? Let that guy die because he... what? Took her on a few dates back in high school? You two have been to space together for god’s sakes. She was just doing her job and you know that.”

The two of you stood in front of Tony Stark himself now, knowing he was right, but not knowing what to say. You turned to look at Peter, seeing his shoulders slouched and his cheeks red likely from both the attention and embarrassment.

“You two can apologize now.” Tony said finally, striding back to the armchair he was sitting in prior to the lecture he gave the two of you and seating himself in it.

You and Peter turned to each other, visibly relaxing as you stared at each other. Despite the flaws the both of you had, you each cared for the other more than anyone else.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, being the first to apologize. “I’m sorry, Pete.” You apologized to him in almost a whisper. “I guess I was just hurt that you thought I could look at anyone else the way that I look at you.”

Peter sighed and you could see the sadness in his eyes that he felt from hurting you. You knew he never meant to hurt you and he was just hurt the same way you were.

“No... I’m sorry, Y/n.” He stepped forward to meet you, placing his hands gently on your arms that were wrapped around yourself. “It just sucked to think of you with some other guy.”

At his apology, you uncrossed your arms, instead reaching out for Peter’s hands. Squeezing his hands in yours you told him, “Peter, he doesn’t matter to me anymore. I love you.”

“Not just that, Y/n.” Although your words meant a lot to him, Peter shook his head. “I don’t know... sometimes I just think that you might want something more... I don’t know... normal. I can’t give you that normal, peaceful stuff so I guess I just get worried. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you though.”

Now it was your turn to shake your head as you gazed at your boyfriend. “Pete, you know I could never do normal” You chuckled. “I just got so angry at you that I had magic radiating off of me. Sure, normal would be easier, but I would choose crazy every day as long as I get to be with you.”

Finally you felt the last of the argument and rage that came with it disappear as a feeling of peace and calm washed over the two of you. You let go of Peter’s hands only to wrap them around his neck while his made their away around your torso.

“Gross.” Nat mumbled from her seat.

“I think I actually preferred when they were arguing.” Tony said in disgust.

You and Peter smiled at each other, able to hear the conversation between the others going on in the common room. You laughed as you looked into his eyes, slowly pulling your boyfriend into a kiss.

You and your boyfriend laughed into the kiss as you heard the group erupt into groans of disgust and annoyance. Although you and Peter didn’t have the perfect relationship and each of you had your flaws, at the end of the day you knew you would choose each other every time.

“Okay... Now do we stop them?”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker drabble #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Lovely Josie! Can I request a Frankie piece? Where reader is part of the friend group and really into Frankie. She knows he's also into her but just typical insecure Frankie. So she flirts with him and tries to seduce him every chance she gets until one day she's had enough and really goes for it. And if course Frankie likes it 😇 Merci!

Spicy-Sweet (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

summary: ^^

W/C: 4.3K

Warnings: lots of talk of alcohol, food, god Frankie’s an idiot but a cute one, so much pining and flirting, implied age gap and Frankie’s insecure over it, Frankie has a brief and mild anxiety attack but is comforted

A/N: this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Bucky- that was what the men called you. When you’d first joined the group of men, it’d been as Pope’s friend, a shock to all of them; you weren’t sleeping together, weren’t sneaking around. Just friends. That threw them for a loop. You were always at his side, his right-hand wing-woman. Frankie had been a little put off at first that he’d been replaced, but he grew to like you just as much as the other men. That’s how you’d earned Bucky: Cap’s sidekick, Pope’s sidekick.

When you finally bonded with the rest of them, became friends with them, you were less Pope’s sidekick and more yourself. You grew to love the men for different things. Benny was always there to cheer you up, full of bad jokes and energy. He’d take you out when a date stood you up, buy you a beer on your shittiest days. Will Miller was a shoulder to cry on. He was smart, strong, emotionally intelligent. Wise beyond his years, Ironhead always had the best advice for you. Pope was the partier, and was the one who got things done. Organizing plans was his forte. He loved getting the group together to hang out, and was the only one who could rally the group.

Frankie was all of that and more. Everything. Frankie had caught your eye the moment Pope introduced you to the men. Frankie was the quietest, even quieter than Will. He never enjoyed the spotlight, especially when you were new, but he loved making his friends laugh. He was comforting and helpful, lending you a jacket or helping you with a manual labor task you couldn’t quite get.

Frankie is the one you have a crush on. All of the men have their attributes, and you have to admit that any of them would make a good boyfriend and surely a good lover, but they are and always have been brotherly first. Frankie was something different. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, wanted to kiss the bald patch on his jaw and steal his Hawaiian shirts. You tease him endlessly to hide your feelings, though never in a mean way at all. Always soft and joking, always reciprocated by the teddy bear of a man.

You were the same to him; the first time he saw you, he thought he wanted to marry you someday. He loves your laugh and your humor, loves the way you nudge his side and even though it’s a little painful, wants you to do it again just so he can feel your body touching his. He loves how you can hold court over the men with your stories, can get them to agree on the most divisive of issues. He’d even proposed once that you become Cap, not Bucky. You were clearly a leader. But Santiago brushed it off by saying that Bucky was getting his own show now, so he’s just fine, and besides pendejo, you can’t change a nickname once it's been given.

Emotionally constipated Frankie is just fine to sit to the sidelines. If he has one principle with love and friends, it’s that he’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. That’s why he doesn’t necessarily openly flirt with you, why he suppresses his feelings until it’s late at night and he’s alone and can daydream about your pretty face and tight jeans and the crinkle of your nose when you smile.

You’re different. You wear that green shirt you know Frankie always ogles you in when it’s a night out. You buy him a drink or two. You insist he dance with you, take him on errands with you on a Saturday morning. You can read the man; you’re pretty damn sure he likes you too, but you don’t want to ruin it. Rushing him is the last thing on your mind.

As you wander through the farmer’s market on a spring Sunday morning, you shiver as the breeze rushes past your bare arms. Frankie doesn’t notice; he’s too busy admiring a booth selling hot honey. You can’t help but laugh as he delightedly samples a spoon of the syrupy-sweet-spicy product, and turns to you with wide eyes. “Bucky, you gotta try this,” he insists, handing you a sample spoon.

Nodding, you give in and taste it. The flavor on your tongue reminds you of Frankie if he were a flavor: a little spicy, but more of a warm feeling. Infinitely sticky-sweet, floral and tasting of sunshine. There’s heat, just a little, enough to awaken your tastebuds and mingle with the honey perfectly. “That’s good shit. How much is it?” You ask the vendor.

A few minutes later, you walk away with two bottles. You hand one to Frankie. “Here. This is for you,” you tell him with an earnest smile.

Frankie’s brows slide together beneath the brim of his favorite ball cap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you shrug and pat his cheek, your path curving to the right as you approach a bakery stall.

The morning is sunny and just slightly cold, making you shiver every so often. Sweet Frankie walks dutifully at your side like the dogs and their owners similarly strolling the tent-lined sidewalk. His eyes light up as he sees breads and flowers, homemade jerky and beautiful jewelry. The variety is exciting, and you often hear Frankie shouting for you from a new booth.

While you admire the jewelry made of local stones, something warm and soft covers your shoulders. You look down to find that it’s Frankie’s suede brown jacket. “You looked cold,” he tells you and turns a little pink before patting your shoulder and wandering off.

At the end of the day, you have a full reusable bag, brimming with goodies: a small bright bouquet, two loaves of bread, cookies, fresh berries, and a bottle of hot honey. Frankie’s is similarly stuffed, though it’s with much more unhealthy choices. The two of you sit on a grassy hill, munching on a pack of thumbprint cookies Frankie purchased.

The morning sun is just starting to warm up, but the jacket you’re now wearing is cozy. You lean your head on Frankie’s shoulder as the two of you rest there without words, lost in your own thoughts.

God, he’s so cute. So sweet. A little stupid. Just how I like them. Is my flirting not obvious enough to him? You wonder internally.

Frankie’s thoughts are similar but different. She’s so sweet. She’s so nice to me. I wonder if she’d ever like me like that.

Partying is Pope’s favorite pastime. The man enjoys getting shitfaced and taking a similarly drunk date home. Lord knows what they do; you’re glad you don’t. That leaves you and the Millers and Frankie. You and Benny dance and sing karaoke, twirling and shouting the lyrics to the song blasting in the bar. Frankie and Will sit on the sidelines.

That’s exactly where tonight has found you. A surprisingly sober Pope has gone home with a pretty girl he flirted with briefly before she tugged him by the jacket sleeve. He shot a look of excitement at the four of you before leaving.

Now, Benny requested his favorite song through the pay-per-tune machine in the corner. You’d squealed and dragged him out, dancing with him on the wooden floor the bar provides. Frankie can’t help but think the two of you would make a good couple. The two of you are full of sarcasm and energy at most times, around the same age. Frankie’s a bit older, and he can’t help but think that it would be weird for you, that it would prevent him from liking you. If only he knew.

Benny does, actually. He’s annoyed that your group doesn’t give him enough credit for his smarts. He might be mostly muscle, but he’s packing brains too. He’s great at observing social interactions, and he can especially tell that there’s something between the two of you. He’s learned his best friend like he knows how to drive or what his own phone number is. Benny knows Frankie, and he knows he won’t make the first move for fear of upsetting you. That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to be your blonde, blue eyed Cupid and queued up Frankie’s favorite song next.

You know it’s his favorite song. Of course you do. When it comes on, you turn to the bar with wide eyes and wave to catch Frankie’s attention, then wave him over. Benny says something or another and wanders off. It takes some nonverbal persuading, some pleading eyes and pouting to the man, but Frankie eventually adjusts his jeans and gets up, leaving that suede jacket behind on his barstool.

“It’s your song!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around him, starting to dance along with him. He moves back with you, though nowhere near as fluid or free.

He shakes his head but smiles, and you flick the brim of his cap. “Oh come on, you love this song. Don’t be such a dope,” you tease and grab his hips, forcing him to move them a little more than the stiff motions he’s making.

“I am a dope,” he mumbles and you roll your eyes, moving in a way that invites Frankie to move back against it. It’s a two-person dance, and you’re starting to get him moving.

Chuckling, you look up at him. “You ever seen Footloose?” you ask him.

He blows a raspberry into the air, laughing. “Of course I have. It’s my favorite movie.”

“Then how come you can’t dance?” You tease.

Frankie makes a noise of mock-injury, clutching his chest. “Damn, Bucky. Right in the heart.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. “I was going to say that you remind me of Willard. I guess that’s fitting though. You can’t dance.”

His scent is the only thing you can think about, the way his cologne is spicy and sweet on his flushed skin, warm from having you in such close proximity. “Does that make Pope Ren?”

“And it makes me whatever the girl who dates Willard is named,” you shamelessly flirt, swaying him to the side as the song changes in keys.

If there was anything in Frankie’s mouth right now, he’d be choking. Maybe it’s just because you’re dancing together, he rationalizes. Maybe it’s just because you wouldn’t want to date Pope. It can’t be because you like him. That’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. “Ha. Sure,” he shakes his head, taking off his cap and teasingly placing it backwards on your head.

It’s loose on your head, and you laugh as you look up at him. Frankie has that feeling again in his gut: he’s going to marry you someday. It can’t be the alcohol, not in either of you. You’ve both only had a drink each. No, in this moment he realizes the depth of how bad he wants you, but he cannot comprehend that you want him too. There’s no way you could ever love a man like Francisco Morales, he tells himself. But he wants you to. He aches for you to.

The song ends and the ache only grows. Frankie is not a dancer. This is his time to retire to the barstool. “Well, thank you for holding my hat,” he teases you and steals it back, putting it on himself and patting your side before wandering back to his spot next to Will.

You frown, but then Benny finds you again and the energy returns somewhat. You long to feel Frankie’s arms around you again, to dance with him and whisper jokes next to his ear so that you can feel the way his laugh buzzes in his chest. You consider buying another play of Frankie’s song later, but that would be suspicious. You’ll have to find another way, but you have to do it soon; you’re not sure how much longer you can last before you combust from not getting to kiss his soft lips, to feel his scruff beneath your fingertips as you cup his face and finally close the gap between the two of you.

Frankie is much too old for parties. He’d decided that even a few years ago now, that that sort of thing was best left to the young bucks who could drink endlessly and awaken with only a mild headache. How the hell Benny had talked him into attending this party, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that you’d be there and that was enough for him.

You’re not a big partier either; you can get wild, but only around your friends, usually only with Benny there to egg you on and hand you shot after shot. You don’t particularly like getting drunk, just enough alcohol to make things a bit lighter. Benny and Santiago were the ones who’d insisted you and Frankie come along to this party a mutual friend of theirs is hosting.

Of course, the boys wanted you two there but had failed to mention they were each bringing dates. When you wandered in with Benny and a girl flung herself onto him, peppering his blonde stubble with kisses, you’d quickly learned that you weren’t going to get a good night with your favorite guys. Santiago was similarly taken, a girl draped across his lap in a busy living room, each of them holding a drink. He’d given you a two-finger salute as you wandered to the kitchen, kind of annoyed.

You’d dressed a little nicer, though nothing too special, and you immediately hoped at least Frankie and Will would be around tonight to hang out with. Will’s not a big partier, though he’s a little more social than you and Frankie. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your face falls as you read the text.

Ironhead: sorry guys. Not gonna make it out tonight.

He provides no explanation why; Will never does. You know better than to question it. Your only hope now is that Frankie doesn’t blow you off.

Frankie could never. The promise of you being at the party was enough for him to meticulously shave and spray that cologne he knows you love on his flannel, which you’ll surely ask for because you’re always cold. He’s not here yet, so you lean against the kitchen counter and crack open a hard seltzer as you look around. Bringing your drink with you, you hit the bathroom and when you return, there’s a familiar ball cap poking above the crowd, labeled with Standard Heating & Oil. Frankie.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the cap from his head and put it on yourself. “Hey, pilot,” you sing as he turns and his face lights up to see you. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, leaving an indent in those curls from where the cap was.

“Goddamnit, Buck,” he laughs and tries to steal it back, but you dodge out of the way.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight, flyboy,” you sigh as you prop an elbow on his shoulder and look around, finding Benny and his girl making out on the dance floor and Santiago playing with a woman’s hair on the couch.

Frankie has to admit he’s okay with that. “They didn’t tell me they’d be bringing dates,” you grumble. Frankie holds back a chuckle. This was most definitely planned, Wingman Benny embracing his role in forcing the two of you together. Frankie couldn’t say he was too upset about it, in all honesty. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” you shake your head and grab Frankie by the bicep, trying not to shiver at how muscular his arms are.

In the kitchen, you toy with the hem of his shirt as he mixes himself an old fashioned from the vast cocktail bar. “I love this one,” you murmur absentmindedly, admiring the worn fabric and the ripping seams at the hem. It’s so perfectly Frankie: an old black Fleetwood Mac shirt, nearly falling apart. There are holes in the hems and under the left armpit but it always smells sweet and spicy, just like him, and feels like a security blanket. “Looks good on you.”

“Looks like a piece of shit. I need to just throw it out, but I can’t bring myself to,” he chuckles as he finally takes a sip of his drink. He knows the reason he can’t: you love it too much.

“Good,” you nod and set down your hard seltzer, making yourself a drink.

“What you got there?” he asks as he watches you stir up a concoction.

“Essentially the same as you. Old fashioned but with Fireball instead of regular whiskey.”

“You seem to like the spicy-sweet thing, don’t you?” he teases.

God, if only he knew. “Spicy-sweet, just like someone else I know,” you tease him and nudge your shoulder with his. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Frankie’s heart does several backflips in a row, complete with a roundoff and a cartwheel. He’d earn the gold in the Olympics, the way his heart tumbles and turns in his chest. “Ha,” he laughs dryly, looking down at his own drink, swishing it and watching the ultra-sweet cherry spin through the dark liquid.

The music gets louder from the other room as you and Frankie drink in silence, both of you leaning against the kitchen counter as the amount of alcohol per cup steadily decreases. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Pope,” Frankie finally speaks over the loudening noise, nodding to the living room where everyone is clustered.

“Sure,” you call back, even though he’s just a few feet from you.

It’s practically a maze, trying to find his way through the people. They’re all moving and bouncing, the sound overwhelming him. It’s like a goddamn mosh pit, he thinks, or how it must feel to be buried inside one. How did this party become something like this, and why the hell is he here? Frankie wanders through, getting turned around as the group moves and sways.

His breathing gets heavier, and suddenly Frankie feels suffocated. His primary objective no longer is finding Pope, it’s getting the fuck out of here before this herd stampedes him to death. He feels pathetic and small, like a single fish in a giant school wandering through an abysmally deep sea.

When the tide loosens its hold, when Frankie sees a path, he takes it out. He’s not sure how long he was trapped in there- 20 seconds, a minute, five minutes, but he’s overwhelmed and his head is spinning, his drink somehow gone and lost in the shuffle.

You see him stumble out, looking terrified, and rush over. “Hey, hey, Frankie,” you murmur as you grab his forearms. “Are you okay? Did you find Pope?” You ask, your thumbs tracing over his pulsing veins.

He shakes his head, and you take it as a no for both. “Okay, come on, did you drive here? Is your truck out there?”

He nods and grabs his keys, putting them in your hand. “Alright, pilot, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” You stick the hat back on his head and hope it could maybe bring a sense of normalcy back to him.

Frankie’s head feels like radio static as you bring him to the truck, unlocking it and sliding in first across the bench seat. He follows in after you and closes the door, and he turns the air conditioning on full-blast, feeling desperately hot.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me,” you beg of him, cupping the side of his face with one hand. You shiver under the quick breeze of the vents, the cold air immediately filling the cab of his truck. “What happened?” You ask, just above a whisper, fingers tracing the stubble of his jaw.

His eyes are getting more normal, less panicked and more sane. He must’ve had some kind of anxiety or PTSD moment in the crowd. “Just… thought I was gonna get crushed,” he murmurs, not looking at you.

“Frankie. Let’s breathe together, okay? Look at me.” His eyes find yours and you smile. “Good. Follow me.”

You ground him nearly instantly, your chilled skin under his hands as he grips your upper arms, your soft lips parting to breathe in and out. The flutter of your eyelashes when you close those beautiful eyes, the one that have such a distinct unique color. He would kiss you right now if he had the courage.

He breathes along with you and is calm enough by the second breath to think rationally again. The wave has passed, leaving his body feeling tired and limp. “I-I’m good,” he assures you, tracing his fingers across your skin. “Bucky, you’re freezing.”

“Frankie,” you give a sad chuckle. “I’m supposed to be calming you, and-“

“I’m super hot, please, take this,” he says as he shucks his flannel and hands it to you. “It would help me,” he says simply, enjoying the way the air conditioning more directly contacts his skin without it on.

“Well, okay,” you laugh and slip it on, breathing in the warm scent that is Frankie and sighing contentedly. “See? I love the sweet and spicy thing, like your cologne.”

He shakes his head and looks away. “Oh, stop. You don’t mean that.”

You frown at him. “Frankie. You’re thinking straight again, right?”

He nods.

“Then how aren’t you processing how in love with you I am?” You ask with a soft laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “I flirt with you endlessly, and it feels like you never pick up on it. So now I’m just going to say it: I like you, Frankie.”

Biting his lip, Frankie looks down at you with slight confusion. “Really?”

You laugh incredulously, burying your face in his neck. “Yes, Frankie, really. I like you a lot. I have since the moment I met you. And I’d like to think you like me too.”

There’s a beat of silence and he nods, taking one of your hands in his and lacing the fingers together. “I really like you too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met, Buck,” he admits, wide brown eyes looking down at you with all of the love in his massive heart. “I just… didn’t want to assume anything. You’re so good to me, but you’re so good to the other guys too.”

“Do I buy the other men bottles of hot honey? Have I ever brought a date around like the other guys do?” You ask, lovingly and hoping he sees your point. “I’ve been pining for you for so long, Morales. I just want you to get it through your thick skull that I care for you and I’ve been in love with you for quite a while.”

“I feel stupid,” he mumbles, ears turning pink at the tips. “It was pretty obvious. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” you assure him and squeeze his fingers. “I personally think it’s fucking adorable that you didn’t want to assume that. I like that, that you didn’t want to do anything first without knowing the same about you. I like all of you, Frankie, from that scruffy beard to these cozy flannels you always let me borrow.”

His heart melts in his chest, reducing him to a puddle. “Then I guess I should ask if you’d be my girl.”

His girl? If you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, you were wrong. You can’t hold back any longer and you swing your leg across his lap, straddling him in the bench seat of his truck. “Can I kiss you, Frankie?” You ask, gently removing his cap and setting it aside.

“God, yes please,” he practically whines as he cups your face in both of his big hands, kissing you deeply and breathing out heavily through his nose.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, Frankie’s body pressed to yours as your lips meet. You both taste that perfect spicy-sweet flavor, the way that’s so Frankie in your head. This might be the sweetest and softest man alive, you think to yourself, and goddamn, you’re lucky, Bucky.

His body radiates the heat of his love and stress and everything, completely melting into yours. You’re never going to stop doing this now that you’ve started. You’re never going a day without holding Frankie like this.

Your legs are firmly planted on either side of him, and Frankie moves his hands to grip your waist and pull you in closer. Shivering at the way he practically manhandles you, you moan into his lips, murmuring his name breathlessly. It’s like the most perfect melody, the way you say it. He mumbles your name back, your real name. Not Bucky.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself tight against him, running one hand through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He tastes like heaven, just as perfect as you’ve dreamed about for as long as you’ve known him. When you break away, you smile softly, admiring the way he’s panting beneath you. His head is tilted back to look at you on top of him, his eyes glazed over and cheeks warmed with pounding blood. You gulp and trace the side of his face with feather-light fingertips, admiring his beauty. “God, Francisco,” you murmur. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

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