#he never truly likes sex but would still have it with Mac to show his love for him

[riiwriting]

Conflict of Interest | Solomon (Obey Me)

summary : you should have known that an apprenticeship under your best friend would bring nothing but trouble. keeping relationship strictly platonic was difficult enough in itself, so it was inevitable when your additional time together drew you into one another's arms. the only issue with falling in love with Solomon was that you knew nothing would ever be the same.

no pronouns / second person pov

warnings : explicit language, no actual smut but pretty direct allusions to sex, mildly toxic relationship

very loosely inspired by the Bright Eyes song Lua (and the Mac Miller cover of it on soundcloud) :

and i know you have a heavy heart / i can feel it when we kiss

me i'm not a gamble / you can count on me to split / the love i sell you in the evening / by the morning won't exist

what feels normal in the evening, by the morning, feels insane.

To say that you and Solomon weren’t on good terms would be an understatement.

It hadn’t always been like this – in fact, until very recently, you had held no one closer. Your close friendship had only gotten stronger once you officially adopted the role of being his apprentice. You had always been apprehensive about mixing your professional and personal lives, but you knew there was no one you trusted more to help you hone your magic than your white-haired friend. And after everything the two of you had been through together, no one else understood you quite as well.

The two of you had more than proven that you made a good team, both as friends and sorcerers. After months of spending nearly every moment together, there was no one you felt safer with – no one you cared for more deeply – than your mentor. There came a point where you couldn’t fathom anything, not even fate worst’s punishments, threatening the bond that you shared.

Then Solomon made the very mistake that you had sworn you would never make.

He sashayed across the invisible line drawn so thinly between you – the line you had been pacing frantically along for months. It was inevitable; you’re sure you would have caved and made the same error if he hadn’t. Drunk on excitement and a little too much wine, there was no better atmosphere to destroy everything the two of you had so carefully built together.

The inevitability of it all was painfully obvious by the way you melted in his hands when he touched you, pulling your hips against his with an unashamed grin. It was obvious when your eyes fluttered shut on instinct at the sensation of his cold fingertips grazing your warm cheek. And it was obvious still when he desperately covered your lips with his own, and you realized that this was what you had truly been waiting for, all this time.

It was the beginning and the end of it all. You spent that evening, and many more just like it, disregarding all common sense in a frenzied haze, desperate to scratch an itch that had been burning in both of you for far too long. Nothing about it warranted any conversation between you, as it never felt necessary.

In such moments, he was as eager as you were restless, the glide and feel of his bare skin against your own seemingly the most normal thing in all of the three realms; like you were destined to fall for him. As though he wouldn’t rest until he had come to know every inch of you, his intentions rarely clear and almost never pure.

You knew from the conditions of it that the depth of your emotions were not reciprocated. You had avoided it for so long because you knew he would ruin you, and you were of the impression that he most likely knew it too. It was common knowledge that he couldn’t love you, but when his head was between your thighs, watery eyes shining up at you in near worship, it sure as hell felt like he did. And if your desperate cries of his name weren’t enough to show him how you felt, you hoped the pretty purple marks you painted along his collarbone did the trick.

The unfortunate thing about time, of course, is that evenings always come to an end. Sometimes, waking up in the morning is a beautiful thing. Other times, waking up in the morning, deeply sore with a pounding headache, means facing the unfortunate reality that you made a mistake.

That’s always what waking up in Solomon’s bed meant. The same bed, yet miles apart – at arm’s length, if he was still there at all. He had wanted you so fiercely just a few hours ago. You had known all along that you didn’t want this – you didn’t want to put yourself through this – and now you had. The blame fell equally across the two of you. You each had sins to repent.

You’d think you would learn from your mistakes, but you didn’t. Not a week later, when you found yourselves alone together in a train cabin on an uncomfortably long trip in the human realm. Or two weeks after that, when he called you in the dead of night just to hear your voice, begging you to come to him. While you typically did quite well with your lessons, you seemed to be having a hard time learning this one.

You didn’t care to know what his purposes in nocturnally pursuing your heart were. Perhaps you were simply convenient, or maybe you were just someone he was comfortable with. You doubted anything more. But you believed with aching decision that you would keep running this race however long it took. He was still, at the core of everything, your best friend. You craved consistency from him, but you were content with whatever cards fate decided to play. You would’ve been content with anything, as long as it was him.

Now you could hardly stomach the sight of him.

Yet here you were, reliant on him once again.

Lost in past, there was no one else you could contact who might be able to help you figure out what the hell was going on. It just so happened that he had been looking for you too, apparently unsatisfied with the way you left things.

“Well when you suddenly disappeared, I had to come look for you,” he said earnestly, as though his concern was genuine. As though this was nothing more than another adventure for him in the Devildom.

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Funny, how quickly you worry when I’m not at your convenience.”

You watched as his face shifted from concern to frustration. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re also my student and friend,” he said sharply.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting against the anger that flared in your stomach. “Also?” you repeated scaldingly. “What exactly is the first thing you think of when I come to mind?”

He rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from snapping at you. After he had gone through all this trouble, practically cementing himself in the past with you, still unsure of a way back, he was infuriated that this was how you chose to greet him. As much as he tried to fight it, he was also frustrated that you wouldn’t believe him when he said he had been worried about you. He knew things had changed, but he had never thought you could believe he didn’t care about you.

You were expecting an answer, and it took him a moment to work out how to properly articulate one. “I was speaking in reference to which of our relationships you clearly value the most,” he spoke apathetically.

His assumption seared at your chest, and you had to dig your fingernails into your palms to resist the urge to curse him. You knew he’d be stronger than any curse you could conjure anyway, especially in your current state of mind. You opted for non-magical words instead. “It’d be in your best interest not to assume you know how I feel,” You cautioned.

When he simply raised a lazy eyebrow, your frustration reached a fever point. Trying to collect your anger to formulate a rational argument, so it was inevitable when you threw your hands up, your eyes threatening tears.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The air of Cocytus Hall grew still. For a moment, Solomon wasn’t sure if his anger was fading or growing worse. Regardless, his composure hardly changed. “Then why do you?” he asked.

You wanted to scream. “You know why,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

His expression flickered briefly, his cool expression drifting into a soft look of shame. It was only a matter of moments before he was back to his normal self, quietly admitting, “I do know why.” He let a silence fill the air, unsure of how the hostile look in your eyes was making him feel. After a breath, he dared to say, “I want to hear you say it.”

Only he would be pompous enough to make demands in the midst of an argument. As a mentor, his arrogant insistence was welcomed, but when he got like this…

“Why?” You began your interrogation, your voice raising against your will. “Why must I always lower myself for you? Why do I always have to be the one who’s vulnerable? Who’s at your convenience?” By the end of it, you were shouting, and you had nearly cleared the room, putting yourself directly within arms reach of Solomon.

You wouldn’t hit him, of course. You’d never do such a thing, not even in your worst of tempers. But you could feel your anger bubbling through your veins, like steam rising from your skin. You wanted him to be able to feel how much you hated this. How much you hated that you were stuck here with him. How you hated the way you felt about him.

“You’ve never said it,” Solomon simply answered, his demeanor unfazed by your new proximity. If anything, he used your movement to his advantage, straightening his back to perfect his posture, a silent reminder of who exactly you were talking to.

Still, he knew well that you weren’t one to shy away quickly, not even from him. “Why would I?” you countered, your eyes narrowed and dark. “I do respect myself, Solomon.”

“I see it in your eyes every time I take off your clothes,” Solomon hummed in a low voice, his gaze still holding an argumentative heat. “I feel it every time you kiss me, every time you ask me to stay a little while longer. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, MC, yet you’re too damn stubborn to admit it to my face?”

At that point, your anger bubbled over into embarrassment, which bubbled into helplessness. You didn’t understand why he was being so cruel. “Why do you insist on making this so painful?” you asked, at this point, seeking mercy.

What you were seeking found you. Solomon’s eyes softened, the expression different from his usual lustful gaze. He let his passive façade slip, exposing a gentle vulnerability I hadn’t seen from him in quite some time. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice thick with repressed emotion. Your gaze faltered, and it was his turn to push back. “What is so terrible about your attraction to me? Why are you so ashamed?”

“This is why!” You snapped quickly, your anger returning. “Because you know exactly how I feel about you, and you hold it against me. You use is to your advantage, for your entertainment!”

A sudden look of desperation flashed across his face as he finally understood how you truly saw him. “You think I want you any less?” he asked in a quiet plea. Suddenly, the thought of you thinking such absurdity reignited his anger. His voice raised as he pressed, “This isn’t just some game to me.”

A slight scoff slipped past your lips on instinct, causing his shoulders to tense. When he peered at you with burning curiosity, you finally voiced your deepest thoughts. “Solomon, you’re using me! You’re using how I feel about you!”

His initial instinct, of course, was to say absolutely anything he could to prove to you otherwise. He had meant every drunken whisper and lustful remark, every desire for you he had ever had. He needed you just as dependently as you had ever needed him. He had lived for centuries and never encountered anything that compared even remotely to you.

He longed for you achingly, but knew that the two of you had a lot of things to balance. You had a lot of roles to fill. He had always figured that there was simply a time and place.

Now, hearing your devastating beliefs, he wanted to argue, fight, plead – hell, the man was ready to drop to his knees. But as he turned over the entirety of your statement in his head, he suddenly couldn’t focus on his need to reassure you. His mind fixated on your vocabulary, and the way that even now, even after everything you both had said, you still had not said that you loved him.

It was driving him mad.

A wave of anxiety had him running a hand through his shaggy white hair, tugging almost painfully at the roots. When he withdrew his hand, his hair was a tousled mess, and the sight of it made your breath catch. His eyes settled on you in a silent plead.

You don’t know what it was, or what about it was so compelling, but you seemed to be able to read his expression fluently. Something clicked in your brain, forcing you to the conclusion that maybe this was something Solomon needed.

You were pleased when tears didn’t settle into your eyes. Maybe you had been doing a good job getting over it. “I just don’t understand why, Solomon. Why are you doing this to someone who loves you so much?”

There it was. The word left your perfect lips and strung Solomon up by his throat, forcing him to completely freeze into place. He had been directly asking for it – begging for it – but he admittedly wasn’t sure you’d ever cave. Even then, he didn’t know if it would have the impact he hoped.

It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t exactly a whole, intended confession. It left him wanting, aching to hear you repeat it a little more clearly. The more he thought about it, the more he discovered the he wanted to hear you say it over, and over, and over…

Your heart fluttered at the genuine desire that clouded his grey eyes. For so long he had wondered if fate had simply decided that being loved was not in the cards for him. Of course, he had heard false declarations in his lifetime – insistences and sweet nothings thrown his way from demons and humans alike in an attempt to get something from him. He had on many occasions been consumed by lust, left to wonder if anyone could ever truly long for him in such heady exasperation.

He had dismissed such musings long ago, deciding within the first few centuries of his life that he had nothing to gain from dwelling upon his condition. He had become one of the most powerful sorcerers – one of the most powerful beings – in all the realms. Certainly, his energy was better exerted onto other things.

Yet now you were here, eyes flared indignantly, the words he always found so far out of reach laying on your lips. At long last, the one quality he thought he was truly incapable of possessing. The lone piece missing from his immortal soul. Years ago, accepting Diavolo’s terms of an exchange student program, Solomon never would have thought that what he had been seeking for so long would turn out to be you.

But when your eyes finally gave way to tears, your jaw quivering in a fight against your frustrated sobs, there was no doubting it. “Are you happy now?” Your voice shook as you questioned him, your watery eyes squinting against the weight pooling against your lashes. “You win, Solomon. I love you, and I’ve always fucking loved you, and you’ve never once deserved it.”

Something in his brain snapped. His words caught in his throat, his body too far stimulated with the simultaneous relief of hearing your confession, and resentment at your regret. You accused him so easily of being cruel, yet freely stood before him, assaulting his pride with the most shattering contradiction imaginable. He should have reminded you of your fault in this, held the mirror to your eyes as you accused him being indecisive with your feelings.

But he couldn’t blame you. Nothing about his flippant ways warranted being loved by you. Not the way he disappeared for weeks, sometimes months on end, withholding a menagerie of secrets from you. Not his cocky demeanor every time you caved and admitted you needed him, nor his snarky remarks whenever you genuinely sought out his comfort.

He couldn’t help who he was – what he was – but he had so often proven that he really did possess the ability to treat you properly. He knew you better than anyone else. For so long, he behaved as though he would do anything in hell and creation to keep you safe; even now, he was clumsily putting himself into harm’s way to bring you home. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t see that.

“I don’t feel like I’ve won,” he eventually admitted in bitter reverence. “I feel like I’m very much losing something very important.”

A pressure weighed on your chest as your shoulders heaved an exhausted shrug. “We can’t keep doing this,” you finally surrendered.

As soon as the words began to leave your mouth, Solomon began shaking his head. “MC, please,” he begged, his eyes glossy. “I need you.”

His voice was gutted with his admission, the most sincere you’d ever heard it – or possibly the best performance. You shook your head at what you assumed was his final futile attempt to keep you from walking away. To you surprise, when you turned to do just that, the sorcerer bolted in front of you, blocking your path to the door with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Solomon…” you warned, your tone sharp.

He held his palms out in a signal of peace. You understood the expression on his face as a request for one final chance to tell you how he felt. When you didn’t move, he let his hands fall to his side. “You don’t understand. I have never needed anything but my own talents. I have hundreds of years of experience, and yet I don’t think I would know how to move on from you leaving. All this time, it was as if I’ve been missing this piece of myself. Then one day, there you were, and…”

He trailed off, his eyes adverting from yours as he let out a deep sigh. After a moment to compose himself, he returned his attention to your awaiting gaze. “Neither of us are perfect, me particularly less so,” he admitted bashfully. “But we can’t change who we are. I am, and will be for as long as the earth turns, so deeply sorry that my actions ever led you to believe that I do not love you. I never intended to inflict any of this misery on you. But you have to understand who I am.”

At first, your frustration stabbed at you, insisting pessimistically that he was simply making excuses. The longer you gave yourself to steep, the more you seemed to understand the expression drawn across his handsome features. He had rarely, if ever at all, spoken about past relationships or flings. You had never allowed yourself to assume one way or another, but his testimony seemed to be proving to you that he was so desperate for you to love him because he had never been loved before.

It then dawned on you that he really wasn’t asking you to continue allowing him to carry things on as they had been. He wasn’t asking to use you. His eyes were begging for you to simply be patient with him. You loved the man he had been when you were friends, on those warm evenings, and he was quietly promising to become that man permanently, if you would just stay.

You hated the way your resolve crumbled when his fingers tentatively reached for your wrists, gently pulling your hands into his. You knew that he should have run out of chances by now, but you had to admit that neither of you had exactly been clear in your communication before. You were inclined to give in just because of that.

The problem lied in the nature of Solomon’s words. He was speaking the truth, as you knew, but his admission was not the promise of quick change that admittedly was ideal. It was a request of commitment – and, in fairness, an alleged vow of the same. He was asking for you to be with him, to help him become someone worthy of your devotion. It was no small ask, but his hands had moved to settle on your waist, and you found yourself relenting.

“I’ll stay,” you conceded quietly, absentmindedly stepping further into his reach. One of his hands moved up your body to caress your cheek, his eyes burning with relief and desire. You allowed him to press a soft kiss to your lips, but pulled back as he tried to deepen it. Catching his desperate gaze, you reiterated, “I will stay for now.”

Solomon’s eyes flickered. You knew he was already thinking of future ways to prove to you that he was worth it. The thoughtful expression quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of admiration that you were becoming quite familiar with. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me,” he confessed feebly before regaining control of the situation, kissing you fiercely.

This time, there was no pulling back. Not as he kissed you hungrily against the mantle in the living room that had just moments ago been a battle ground, his thigh braced between your legs as you moaned his name against his mouth. Not as you felt him press against you, every excited muscle of his body fighting desperately against his clothes. Not as he led you stumbling down the hall to the room he had claimed as his own, telling you between kisses that it was your room now, too.

You didn’t pull back as you allowed yourself to succumb to the familiar comfort of being with him. It was different this time, your minds and bodies freshly fueled by the emotions you had shared earlier. This time, when his haughty gaze told you he loved you, you believed him.

And when you woke up in the morning, anxiety pooling in your stomach at what you had yet again done, you found yourself being kept warm and safe by the protective arms of your mentor. Feeling you stir against his chest, he pressed closer against your back, kissing you lightly on the back of your neck. “Good morning, darling,” he murmured, the words casting a slight breeze across your skin.

There were no feelings of insanity as you turned in his arms, your heart burning at the sight of his half-asleep smile. When you dared to press a kiss onto his lips, he fell right into it, his hand against your lower back holding you close. When he finally released your lips, your head was in a daze. Belligerently, you murmured, “I love you.”

His body tensed against you, still not used to being on the receiving end of those words. His reaction instilled panic back into your chest, as you worried that he was going to end up regretting his vulnerability after all.

You were well prepared to scramble away from him, until you felt his lips brush against your skin; first your forehead, then from your temple to your cheek bone, dotting a purposeful line down your jawline until he paused over your lips. “I love you,” he repeated back to you. “So much that I can’t stand it.”

And when he kissed you again, his lips moving perfectly against yours, you finally understood what he meant about being two parts of the same whole.

#obey me otome #shall we date? obey me #obey me! shall we date? #obey me / reader #obey me oneshot #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #obey me angst #solomon angst #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #nightbringer solomon

[goose3gg]

Veronica Mars: A blog as I watch the film post seasons 1-3 *Spoilers*

No way veronica is with Piz is the first thing I have to say. It is majorly alluding to never escaped a small town, but the intro was incredibly endearing. Veronica and her dad’s relationship has always been my favorite in the show. The reunion is very adorable and raw, awkward, and clunky just like real life. Being in my early I current live in rabid fear of my ten-year high school reunion, but this movie captures the habits you fall into when you reunite with old friends. The movie knows what its viewers are expecting, and even throw in a few extra stars amongst the fully returned cast, including Mac, Dick, and Wallace. I love that the film is reflecting on the youthful days of high school with love and longing, but not returning to them. Choosing a more mature color palette and camera angles is doing everything it hoped for it, and it looks great on Kristen Bell and how she’s perfectly stepping back into the role. Still, I was hoping that Logan would have grown up and stopped messing around, yet it makes perfect sense he was always still just holding himself together, after everything he’s been through. It is odd to me that Mac took a job at Kane software, but only being in the exposition I’m assuming it’ll be a key element to proving Logan’s innocence. Veronica just slipped on her leather jacket and has declared this her “farewell tour.” It is classic Veronica to end up in her suspects apartment under false pretenses, and to eventually get arrested… and bailed out by an old ‘friend’ who wants to blackmail her. Logan and Veronica’s chemistry is palpable even after all these years, and Logan’s sarcasm [and Veronica’s] has grown charming with age. Wow… I can’t believe Madison is here… my least favorite character. I love the interesting awkward interaction with Gia, and adorable one with Weevil. I adore Weevil’s growth and excitement to show off his new life to Veronica. I am surprised that Veronica’s sex tape continues to be used against her and brought up time and time again, as that literally is revenge porn, yet not surprising Madison is using it against her. This ending in a fight I saw, but not Veronica punching Madison in the face. It is satisfying seeing the growth in the gathering of evidence, especially because rather than gossip it’s translated to reflecting on memories. The film truly sat down and thought “where would these characters be in ten years.” I am insanely shocked Weevil got shot by Celeste Kane scared, in her broken down car. I love the choice to make this film as the consistent storylines that stack is crucial to the Veronica Mars feel, especially the original first season, as the overlapping storylines make the mystery solving satisfying. The fun cameos keep returning! I am endeared that Max Greenfield returned for this film! He is adoring, and the call backs to the TV show are short and sweet. Unfortunately, I do think the show had to choose to write off the original Sheriff Lamb for allegedly ‘ego’ reasons, I wish they had him around for this movie, because the call backs don’t work as well with a new sheriff who hates the Mars for no reason. I continue to be shocked by the cameos in this movie, or not so cameo by James Franco and Sue Heck, or Eden Rebecca Sher. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many original cast members return to a movie before since the High School Musical movie series, including Vinny. Veronica ditching Piz’s family, to me, is exactly why they shouldn’t have been together for this long, but I suppose as Veronica missed her job opportunity the point is that she’s over dedicated to this case. I don’t know if she’s truly overcommitted to this case, or if she just wants justice. I’m unshocked that the plot is surfacing to be a corrupt cop plotline, but shocked that Mr. Mars and the uncorrupt cop were in a continuous hit and run! This movie keeps me guessing. Part of me feels like it’s the big bubble of Neptune that was waiting to burst or could be the CW’s effect on drama shows. Logan never stops being adorably caring exactly when he needs to be, but I am tired of them reuniting with a passionate kiss… although classic and would have preferred Artic Monkeys instead of the Hozier-esque music they chose, and since when is the movie more PG than the show?! The relationships are always so obviously painted in front of us, Cobb and Gia I saw coming from a mile away. I also can’t believe that [Congressmen Boyfriend] is now listening to Veronica and Gia’s conversation… this could go in all directions. I am ultimately disappointed the ‘friend died at a bad party situation’ of the high school reunion but appreciate the blackmail storyline… cannot believe Gia got shot!! [Currently terrified while Cobb...? searches for Veronica] Ending on the news stories and Veronica asleep at her dad’s bedside, and of course on how days separated between Veronica and Logan don’t mater. “Come back to me” Veronica says. “Always” Logan replies. Absolutely adorable. Although I don’t necessarily agree that Veronica Mars returning to Neptune to solve crimes is her getting back to the ring that she always needed to be in, but I understand this all was a big promotion for the return of the television show, the fourth season that is. I am dying to read the Veronica Mars novels; I enjoyed the pacing and quick wit/self-awareness the show plays into. I originally started the show because I saw some clips on Tik Tok, and noticed how many rising stars were in the original cut of the show. Now to begrudgingly watch the fourth season, although I haven’t heard amazing things. Thank you, Veronica Mars, for all you’ve granted me and I look forward to the rewatch.

#veronica mars #kristen bell #Mars investigations #year2000 #y2k #hulu #mysteries #film review #movie review #crime movie #writing #blog #movie blog #review blog #romance movie #rom com y2k #series review #veronica #mars #logan echolls #marshmellow #keith mars #sheriff lamb #wallace wells #mac #dick casablancas

[lustbile-archive]

In The Cards

HaechanxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot

Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?

This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”

“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.

“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”

“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”

Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.

“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”

Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.

“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.

“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.

“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”

“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”

You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.

His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.

Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.

“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”

He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.

“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”

Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.

“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”

With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.

“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”

He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.

“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”

You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.

“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”

“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”

With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.

“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.

“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”

The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.

“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And what was that Hyuck?”

“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.

“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”

“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”

“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.

“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”

“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.

You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.

He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”

“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.

“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.

There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”

He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.

Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.

You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.

“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”

“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”

He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.

You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.

Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.

He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.

The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.

He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.

His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.

One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.

You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.

His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.

You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.

“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.

“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.

“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #haechan imagines #kpop smut

[shesawriter39049]

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now!  Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students. 

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid  sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright  baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!” 

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is- 

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell  just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now. 

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with. 

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood  immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn  enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi.  A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert. 

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans  head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck”  You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck!  Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well.  “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno,  you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K...  “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that”  You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household.  So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!  

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and  he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her  to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans.  “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

#taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehung #kim taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #kpop #kpop smut

[msfilmdiary]

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

Starring: Emma Watson, Logan Lerman, Ezra Miller, Mae Whitman, Nina Dobrev, Paul Rudd, Johnny Simmons, Kate Walsh, Dylan McDermott, Nicholas Braun, and Melanie Lynskey

Screenplay by Stephen Chbosky 

Directed by Stephen Chbosky 

Cinematography by Andrew Dunn

I do not own any of the photos posted. 

SPOILERS AHEAD 

First of all, I want to say that I love this book. I read it once about every couple of months, and I find something new in it every time I read it. 

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a coming-of-age film written and directed by Stephen Chbosky. The film is told, like the book, in a series of letters written by Charlie to an unknown recipient. These letters include his triumphs and tribulations of his freshman year of high school. The films depict his mental struggles and his journey with his friends, Sam and Patrick. 

After meeting the well-rounded seniors Sam and Patrick at a football game, they invite him to a party. At said party, Charlie accidentally consumes a weed brownie and tells Sam that his best friend committed suicide. He also walks in on Patrick and the school’s quarterback Brad, kissing, to which Patrick tells Charlie that Brad is closed. Both Sam and Patrick then drive Charlie home and experience the infamous tunnel scene, which is possibly one of the most memorable scenes in the film. 

As the film progresses, Charlie slowly develops feelings for Sam and tells her on multiple occasions. Sam, however, has a boyfriend in college named Craig. Charlie later confesses to Sam that he’d never been kissed, and Sam tells him that his first kiss should be with someone who loves him, and ultimately ends up kissing him.

Charlie later begins a relationship with Sam’s friend Mary Elizabeth after the Rocky Horror Picture Show, while still having obvious feelings for Sam. At a party, Charlie is dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room by Patrick, to which he ends up kissing Sam instead of Mary Elizabeth, upsetting them both. Patrick advises Charlie to distance himself from everyone for a little while, and he ends up in isolation and deep depression. 

When Charlie returns to school, he notices that Brad shows up with bruises on his face after being caught having sex with Patrick by his father. He claims he was jumped, and begins to distance himself from Patrick, calling him a f*ggot. Patrick punches him, and Brad’s friends begin beating on him until Charlie intervenes and blacks out. After recovering, he finds that Brad’s friends are incapacitated, while his hands are bruised from fighting. Sam and Patrick express gratitude towards Charlie, seemingly forgiving him for past events. However, after blacking out, Charlie’s mental state begins to worsen and worsen. 

TW: sexual assault 

Patrick then kisses Charlie and immediately apologizes. Sam is accepted into Pennsylvania State University, and breaks up with her Craig after learning of his faithfulness. The night before she leaves for college, her and Charlie confide in each other, and he experiences flashbacks of his Aunt Helen, his aunt who died in a car crash when he was seven. After Sam leaves for college the next morning, Charlie’s mental state deteriorates, and his flashbacks become more and more apparent. He blames himself for his aunt’s death, and is later committed to a mental hospital where it is revealed that she sexually abused him. 

The film ends with Sam, Patrick and Charlie revisiting the tunnel where Sam has revealed she has found the perfect tunnel song–“Heroes” by David Bowie. Sam kisses Charlie, and he stands up on the back of the truck, acknowledging that he feels alive with the statement “We are infinite.” 

As someone who's both read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and seen the film, it’s difficult to separate the materials into their own entities, despite being the same story. The casting is near perfection, as I couldn’t imagine anyone besides Emma Watson playing Sam and Ezra Miller playing Patrick. They both deliver a stellar performance, as did Paul Rudd with Mr. Anderson, and Mae Whitman as Mary Elizabeth. 

The film allows Emma Watson to shed her ten year Harry Potter skin, in a role that I don’t think could’ve been more perfect for her. It allows Ezra Miller some dimension when compared to his character in We Need To Talk About Kevin. 

I want to talk about Sam and the “manic pixie dream girl” stereotype that is often placed on her, mostly because I don’t think she fits any of the characteristics. I recently wrote an essay about strong female characters being overtaken by this craize of the “manic pixie dream girl,” to which I discussed her character, and how I think that she is not solely there for Charlie’s gain and fixation (as many characters with manic pixie dream girl syndrome are.) I think her character separation from Charlie is more prevalent in the book, as I believe that her character on paper is more determined to be seen as separate from the people around her. She isn’t there solely to fix Charlie, or anyone around her for that matter. She has dreams and ambitions, and her own goals away from Charlie. She grows as a character, but not at Charlie’s, or any other male character's expense. She is her own person, or character, rather it be. 

Let’s talk about the soundtrack, which I think truly brought The Perks of Being a Wallflower to life from paper to screen. From my perspective, many of those who watch the film now associate certain songs with certain scenes, like “Come on Eileen” with Sam and Patrick dancing, or “Heroes” with the tunnel scene. For one, I think that replacing Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” for David Bowie’s “Heroes'' made the tunnel scene absolutely magical, more than the book could ever do. I think the tunnel scene made the movie stand out, while the tunnel scene in the book was what I remember being as words on paper. I couldn’t see the scene in my head, whereas the film depicted a version that I believe to be more memorable than the film as a whole itself. Other notable mentions I would like to include would be the song “Could it Be Another Change?” and “Teen Age Riot,” which I think were perfect selections for the feel of the film.  

I would categorize this film as a teenage classic (I know, big words) mostly because I think so many teenagers relate to it. It’s funny and charming, but also at times it allows the viewer to think and reflect about what’s happening around them. The film allows a break from reality, but not a complete severe that doesn’t allow one to stay grounded. I also, for another pointer, think the soundtrack is phenomenal. 

That being said, do I think that the film is better than the book? No. A hundred times no. Do I detest the film? No. I don’t. I think it’s a extraordinary adaptation, and I think that it’s so extraordinary because it’s written and directed by Chbosky himself. He created real characters, both on paper and on screen, that allowed many of the viewers to see themselves in the film. He allowed the viewers to (forgive me) feel infinite. Which, in turn, is all anyone truly wants, to feel completely and utterly infinite. 

Overall rating: 8/10

#the perks of being a wallflower #theperksofbeingawallflowerbook #theperksofbeingawallflowermovie #emma watson #ezra miller #logan lerman #stephen chbosky #moviereview #filmreview #2010 film #2012 #2010s #early2010s #2010s movies #theperksofbeingawallflower #director #film #movie #movies #we are infinite

[levithestripper]

Hi!! Congrats on 200 dude, and hope it becomes 2000 one day :) This is my first time doing a request because i'm really new to tumblr so be gentle ;-;

I'm Maverick, and I go by He/Him pronouns. I'm bisexual with no preference.

Could I pleeeeease have a romantic matchup for Attack on Titan (Anime only)

I've got green eyes, pretty white with a faint tan, dirty blonde hair (mullet), and i'm 5'9". I'd consider myself of average build, with defined legs and broader shoulders than most.

I love colors! Cool sunglasses, Hawaiian shirts, and slides in the summer. In the winter, lots of hoodies, puffer vests, and denim for daysssss!

Now on to the ME! I play American Football (Running Back), love to write, and I also really enjoy the outdoors. Something up walking in the woods on a warm summer afternoon day with the breeze just makes me feel so complete you know? I'm an ENTP-T, and long rambling discussions on ANYTHING make me so happy. I love learning, picking people's brains, and friendly debate is super rewarding with your friends or s/o. I truly believe you shouldn't live your life for anyone else. Do what feels right to you, when it feels right (as long as you aren't hurting yourself or anyone else ofc), because otherwise you aren't fulfilling everything you can possibly be.

PDA, cuddling, kissing, sex >>>>. Love it love it love it. Physical affection is 1000% my love language because I find it really hard to put into words or fully express my feelings for my partner. Rough, soft, a little bit of both. Whatever they would want at any given time.

Some favorites of mine are

Food: Chicken Parm

Music: Mitski, Mac DeMarco

Ideal Relationship: The kind where you just feel utterly at peace when you're with your s/o, no matter what

Season: Summer

Date: Arcade or a hike.

Uhhh I think that's it? Tysm and have a good day :)

@yungroachthesusgod

Hey man! It's nice seeing another guy in the writing part of the fandom!! I hope you like who I've picked, it was hard to decide lmao. 

Also you have a great taste in food chicken parm is the best.

I match you up with-

✩ Jean Kirstein! ✩

HHHHHH WHERE TO I BEGIN THIS MAN

anyways

Jean will sit down across from you and just listen to you talk for hours. He physically cannot get bored of listening to you. Like it's impossible. He sits with his head in his hands and heart shaped pupils, just absolutely in love with you and whatever you're saying.

He tries to friendly debate with you, but he's so stubborn sometimes that you have to reassure him you're not mad at him.

PDA KING. He loves showing you off. Arm wrapped around your waist as you walk, cheek kisses, hugs, you name it. Expect it to happen more often around Eren since Jean's still a egotistical piece of shit sometimes.

Loves to push you up against the wall and make out with you. No I don't make the rules that's just how it is.

Jean's a total simp when it comes to you playing football. I assume you get really sweaty when playing & practicing, so when you run up to him after you're done and you haven't taken a shower yet? This man is GONE. DECEASED, DEPARTED, SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR BOYFRIEND.

likes to take you against the wall after practice but you didn't hear it from me okay i'm just the messenger

He leaves so many hickeys on you it's not even funny. They just show up so well on your pale neck he can't help himself <3

He WILL pull on the hair at the base of your neck. NO you don't have a choice.

Jean loves to drive around at night when he can't sleep so he'll bring you along and jam out to Mitsiki with you.

Eventually when you fall asleep in the car, he'll drive you back home and tuck you into bed <3 If you sleep with stuffed animals, it's guaranteed that you'll wake up with them all around you and one or two in your arms.

At this point, Jean just has to buy two of every sweatshirt/hoodie he gets for himself because you steal them all.

Date nights at a restaurant after an entire day of hiking!!!

Loves to beat you at video games. No I don't make the rules. He demolishes you in FPS and TPS alike.

Hour long make out sessions. That's it that's the headcanon.

Sit on his lap !!!!! Do it !!!! He melts.

Jean lets you braid his hair.

He loves to dance with you in your living room! He'll spin you around then pull you close, kissing your forehead.

If I don't stop now i'll never stop I hope you liked it!

✩ Your runner up was Erwin! ✩

#jean kirschstein #jean kirstien #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean krischtein #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein imagine #jean x you #jean x y/n #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan season 4 #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x male reader #aot x reader #aot x gn!reader #aot jean #jean aot #snk #snk imagines #snk x reader #snk anime #shingeki no kyojin

[yelenasdog]

wondrous mess (40s!bucky x fem reader)

𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst with some tooth rotting fluff halfway 

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: war is so cruel, it’s only fair that the both of them have to expirience it’s wrath together.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 11k+ (my longest fic!!)

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: the beginning shows implications of alcoholic tendencies and behavior as well as derogatory terms from the 40s to describe those who are suffering from alcoholism, war, character death, denial of death, being a widow, cheating, crying, implications of sex, that’s abt it. if i missed any, feel free to shoot me an ask or message :) 

𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: (listen to these in order for best reading experience)

☆time flies- mac miller

☆at last- etta james

☆crying time- dean martin

☆paper rings- taylor swift

☆fine line- harry styles

☆dream a little dream of me- ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong 

☆twilight time- the platters

☆you don’t have to say you love me- jerry vale

☆moon river- andy williams

☆as the world caves in- matt maltese

☆we’ll meet again- vera lynn

☆everlong (acoustic version)- foo fighters

𝚊/𝚗: i hope u enjoy this!! i’ve worked so hard on this and done so much research, it truly took the most time and effort i’ve ever used in a fic. there’s more disclaimers at the end :)

·。·☆·。·。

December 28th, 1941

The alleyway was dark, unnerving, and cold. A man’s loud and gruff voice projected through the nearly empty alley, bouncing off of the newly propaganda strewn walls. His arm was left hanging defenseless in the air.

“Don’t go, please, we’ll talk it out.” His 5 o’clock shadow seemed more prominent, his clothes wrinkled and smelling of alcohol while his breath was that of smoke.

He had changed since they had gotten together, but he wasn’t the only one.

She turned on her heels from where she stood just outside the backstreet, tears pricking the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill. 

She had aged in the time she had been with Jake, the lines on her face deepening, the bags under her eyes darkening with blue and purple hues. Her painted lips had become cemented in a scowl, her formerly bright smile rarely seeing the light of day. But the distraught girl had no intentions of letting her new Bésame mascara go to waste on some jerk, much like the past few years of her life had. She strutted towards the blonde, regaining her lost composure.

She jabbed a manicured finger onto his chest, causing the man to recede slowly, the girl he had angered not far behind.

“You listen here, you crumb. I will not sit around all slack happy so you can go around and kiss some other dame behind my back.” She removed her hand, crossing it tightly against her chest with her other arm.

“Well, I was buzzed, that bird wasn’t even any importanc-“

“You’re unbelievable!” She gasped, rolling her eyes. She turned away once again. Jake followed in suit.

“Leave me alone, Jake.” She kept her eyes straight ahead on the unfamiliar Brooklyn sidewalk. She had originally come to the area to surprise her now ex- boyfriend after his work in the factory, but was in for a shock when she saw him making out with some girl (not for the first time) just outside the diner on the way.

So even if she didn’t have a clue where she was going, she sure as hell was going to act like she did. Seeing that her stride wasn’t faltering, he made an outcry of her name followed by a bellowed  “No!”

Jake grabbed her shoulder, and she shrugged it off, continuing to walk down the cobblestone street. There were cars buzzing past, and people talking around her on the street.

Couples. Happy couples who she quite honestly envied.

“You’re not allowed to touch me like that anymore.” Jake scoffed at her seemingly venomous words, wrapping a strong hand around her dainty wrist.

“Now don’t go into a decline, it’s not that big of a deal.” Her eyes narrowed at the sandy blond.

“Oh, please. You kissed her, and all the others, because you wanted to and because you could. No regard for anyone’s feelings but your own, just like always. And I’m sick of it, I really am!” She threw her hands up, and they fell back to her side with an audible plop against the gabardine fabric.

Jake looked around nervously at all the people whose attention he had drawn, his eyes darting to and fro.

“Don’t make a scene,” he called her by her nickname in a vain attempt to draw out her sympathy. “Please, we can work it out like we always do.”

“Don’t you dare call me that. You have no place to do so. And I think I’ve made my point fairly evidently. Jake Nelson, you are nothing but a swigger and a cheat, and I want nothing to do with it any longer. Goodbye.” She felt a rush of adrenaline as she picked her head up, the setting sun in what to her seemed a poetic manor.

She didn’t know where she was, how she would get home, where she would sleep. But he was gone. That parasite that had been feeding off of her and her emotions, taking advantage of her again and again, was finally gone. And it felt great. She took a breath of the heavily polluted air, noting how it somehow seemed clearer.

She could breathe again, and the feeling was intoxicating. In her newfound bliss, she continued walking for she didn’t know (nor care to find out) how long.

The sky that had since changed from it’s scarlets and oranges to an indigo sheet (becoming nearly impossible to see the stars with all the heavy smoke wafting in the air from the ever so busy factories) provided a hint at exactly how long it had been since she began her adventure. 

She would stare at the buildings as she walked past, analyzing those who walked in and out of them, considering the way they walked, how some appeared dreary, others animated, and making up backstories for them each in her mind. Some of her stories were sadder than others, and some had the most glorious of tales. She liked to think that she was correct about her human hypotheses, even if she was the furthest thing from it.

She swung her head to the left side of the street she was walking on, and not far ahead, she noticed a rickety looking old bar. After her day's events, she felt she deserved a celebratory drink, so she pushed the heavy door open, stepping into the dimly lit area.

The airy sound of piano filled the air, a joyful demeanor to the place. Couples (which she still envied, even if momentarily the said envy had gone vacant) were dancing about happily. Not a care in the world. Not in the moment, at least.

But when she made it past the entrance, that moment stopped. It was like every head turned, all conversations paused, the clinking of the piano keys was no longer to be heard. She gave a small nervous smile to the occupants of the room as she walked to the bar itself, standing just a tad bit taller at the attention. 

And as soon as the moment had stopped, it seemed to have started back up again when she ended up at her destination. Because as she had learned, time truly never stopped for anyone. 

The piano’s melody resumed, everyone was back on their feet in no time. She took a look around, soaking up the atmosphere in complete awe, feeling free as a bird of some sort.

Soon enough, she was slowly sipping away at her concoction while facing the splintering door, her head occupied with thoughts concerning what came next, how she would handle the effects of this adrenaline high she was now stepping off. Her thinking was interrupted, though, by a deep voice and a tap on the shoulder, making her jump in her seat.

“‘Scuse me?”

She turned on her stool to face whoever it was that wanted her attention. Both figures eyes widened at the sight of the other, shock spreading across their faces.

“Well if it isn’t James Barnes!” She spoke, genuine excitement filling her soul. He called out her old nickname, contended with his discovery.

“It’s been awhile! And please, doll, it’s Bucky.” He reminded her with a charming smile. A warm blush rose up from her neck to her cheeks, and butterflies suddenly hatched in her stomach, fluttering about like nobody's business. She nodded, taking another sip from her drink to avoid meeting his eyes (which were much prettier than she ever had remembered from school). 

The clean shaven boy- or man as of late, pulled out a chair next to her, sitting down. The two engaged in friendly conversation, their laughs mixing in the warm, thick air with the sounds of the music. Her heart was beating out of her chest, leaving her feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again.

After some time of very pleasant conversation, a less effervescent matter had risen.

“So,” James began, taking a swig from his glass. “Still with that souse, what was his name,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Jake! That’s his name, Jake!” 

The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes with a laugh.

He was enchanted already.

She began to tell a toned down version of the occurrences with Jake, Bucky remaining captivated by her presence the entire time. James would speak up every few statements, always resulting in her losing her place, not that she minded.

Towards the end of the so called story, there was an interruption towards the front of the bar. 

The moment stopped once more, but in a quite different manner than how it did when she had first entered.

He hollered out her name, followed by an equally as loud “Where are you?” He turned to a man to his left. “Where is she?” He slurred. The scruffy man only shrugged, scooting away from the drunken one that had walked into the brick building.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” She questioned, slowly walking towards the man, trying not to upset him further. 

“Why’d you leave me, huh?! Why’d you cause a scene and go?” He was hysterical. Tears ran down his red face and his hands feverishly grabbed at his scraggly locks for some sense of comfort. 

“Jake, you’re not in your right mind. Leave me alone and go home, you’re leaving your mother worrying, I’m sure of it.”

Her voice began to shake, ripples of emotion that had been repressed for the past years bubbling up to the surface, taunting her, threatening her, to erupt.

And God, his mother, his poor mother.

The frail old woman was half the reason she had even stayed with Jake in the first place,

Her heart was weak, and her son’s behavior never left her any room to breath. So the girl would dedicate much of her time to cooking meals for the widowed Ms. Nelson, bringing them over and sitting with her for hours on end, speaking with her of Jake’s childhood, memories of her late husband spending time with the boy along with it.

Her favorite stories throughout them all, though, were the ones of Jake’s childhood pup, a golden retriever called Benjamin.

Ms. Nelson loved to tell the story of how odd it was that the young boy chose the human name, rather than something frivolous and fun, like Buddy, or Peanut.

So a teary eyed version of the girl would think back to that story whenever Jake would behave in this manner, she would think of Benjamin and a youthful Jake, frolicking in the Oklahoma fields where Jake had grown up.

An extremely happy child, an even sweeter boy.

But no longer could she do so. Not now, after Jake had gone and betrayed her for some random girl.

Some random girl who would never sit with his mother for hours, listening to her weep about her broken son who she pretended to not notice was silently suffering. Some random girl who wouldn’t comfort him when he had a rough day at work, trying to be an active distraction so that he wouldn’t turn to his vice.

Because she had loved Jake Nelson, even if she wanted to pretend she didn’t.

And it hurt her to walk away, but she had to, for his own good.

Which led her to push the image of a golden fluff ball and the face of a smiling small boy out of her mind completely, weighing herself down to the present, meeting Jake’s sad emerald eyes. She walked forward, taking him by the shoulders. Her voice was hushed as she spoke.

“Jake. You’ve become someone I don’t know, someone that’s hard to love. But I did it anyway for a long, long time. Maybe some other time, perhaps even in another life, we can be together. But that all depends on you.

You’ve hurt me, and I can’t pretend you haven’t any longer, Jake. So go home. Please.”

Her eyes hunted through his, sifting for some sign of reassurance that he understood the gravity of the situation.

“But I love you-” He whispered, acting a stuttering mess. Everyone at the bar had gone back to whatever they were doing before he came into the room, not wanting to involve themselves in whatever mess it was obvious the two of them were in.

She took hold of the brown fabric of his coat, gently turning him towards the door. She walked behind him, her hand not leaving his back for some subconscious fear he would do something he would regret once he was of sober mentality.

She discarded it as nonsense;

But nevertheless, her death grip on him never faltered, even for a moment.

As soon as she made it outside, she waved over a cab, the bright yellow vehicle being the only completely visible object in the cool night.

It pulled over with a loud screech, leaving rubber tracks on the damp asphalt. She wrinkled her nose, before digging around her embroidered bag in a flurry, pulling together $5.27 exactly. She knew it would be enough to cover the long ride from the factory to his home, as the high cost of the ride was one of his many worries he did his best to forget in any way he could possibly fathom.

So she told the cabbie his address, helping Jake into the back of the car. He held her hand and looked up to her with pleading eyes. She squeezed it once before putting his back on his lap.

“Goodnight, Jake.” She smiled softly, briefly touching his cheek before shutting the door. She saw him look out the dirty window, before leaning back into the leather headrest and letting his tired eyes flutter to a close, finding momentary bliss, despite all going on around him.

She took a deep breath, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, watching him until the taxi was just barely visible, to where calling it a yellow blob would be generous. But she followed it with her eyes not a moment later, for she had some explicable fear from a tall-tale her mother had told her long ago, about how you would never see someone again if you watched them off completely.

Whether that be by death or some curious mishap along the journey towards it, she never quite felt the urge to find out. And one could take that as a bitter yet nectarous testament to her feelings towards Jake, but even if she wanted to, she wasn’t even sure if she could herself.

She revolved in zombie like fashion, too caught up in her own world once more, to notice a certain brown haired (soon to be, not that he knew it) sergeant.

A stormy look of displeasure had casted itself across his stark features, but his cerulean eyes remained cordial, almost like a safe haven of calm waters to find refuge in.

And almost like in every cliche love story that ever was, she bumped into Bucky, gasping before transitioning into an expression of her regret, a waterfall of apologies gushing from her lips.

He called her by her nickname once more, catching her attention and making her heart skip a beat.

“Seriously, it’s alright, no harm done.”

She zipped her mouth shut, so to say, and just gave a curt nod before starting to go inside. And ever the gentleman, Bucky let her get halfway to the door before calling out her name. She turned once more, salty droplets beginning to roll down her face. 

“Yes?”

He looked down to his feet and then to the bustling city street beside him. After much contemplation in the span of what felt like hours (but was only a few moments), he met her eye.

“I know it’s not my place, and if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, we don’t have to, but what happened in there-”

He paused, taking a deep breath in a futile effort to put his nerves at bay, keep the storm from shore to the best of his abilities. He puffed his cheeks, offering his arm before retreating it again, similarly to the way Jake had however many hours ago.

“You don’t deserve that.” He shook his head, left to right, his ungelled hair shiny under the yellow street lights, making him look like an angel.

“I know.”

He shuffled closer to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The wind howled around them in an agonizing manner, how lone wolves under a full moon would do the same.

They watched as their frosty breaths floated like smoke in the air, their faces illuminated by the storefront displays lining the streets from Christmas that was only a few days prior, leaving no time to take down the brightly colored decor. You could practically hear the animated Santa Claus’ “Ho ho ho!” from where he sat in the front of a toy store, beckoning those who walked past to come on inside and take a look, maybe spend a few dollars.

But to Y/n, it felt as if the cheery old man was simply mocking her as she was in her current state.

“Really, I mean that, I do.”

Now to reiterate, Bucky was a gentleman, that much was clear. So although he outright wanted to tell her that it seemed as if she didn’t realize her own worth and that, Hell, Steve could treat her better than that punk. But alas, he kept it to himself, only doing his best to comfort her, upsetting her further, never an intention in his mind.

She nodded, giving a tight lipped smile. “Thanks, really.”

She shivered, admiring the red and green lights around her, her glazed over eyes reflecting the image of them beautifully, almost like a work of stained glass art in her iris.

“You wanna head back inside? You look kinda chilly.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m just going to stay out here for awhile.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

All that was heard then, was the clicking of his shoes against the cobblestone, with the occasional car whizzing past. But then, she asked him to stay.

Her voice was soft, so much so, in fact, that she possessed what Bucky would say was mistakable for the voice of a mouse, which he would know after spending as many years around Steve that he had. He almost had missed it, but by some miracle, maybe a lucky star, he didn’t

So he turned around, not saying anything to disturb her seemingly exteriorly serene state, only walking up behind her, pulling off his jacket and placing it on top of her shoulders. He smoothed it out briefly, his touch feather light. For he wasn’t sure if he was breaching a certain level of intimacy, breaking any boundaries, with a woman who was practically a stranger.

“Is this alright?”

She nodded again.

“This is fine.” She closed her eyes, feeling much warmer now, but she was slightly torn on if the newfound comfort was accredited to the jacket resting upon her shoulders, or the company standing patiently beside her.

She was starting to think it might just be a little bit of both.

-

June 14th, 1943

The two's relationship (if you could call it that) was painstakingly slow, not that Bucky ever minded.

Word of the war and when, not who, would get drafted had spread, and any waking second for the past years, she was terrified the man she was developing ever strong feelings for would be ripped away with only a moments notice.

But regardless of that, she had a hard time trusting him, that much was true. It wasn’t his fault, not in the slightest. She wished more than anything to forget her past with Jake, but it was no use. So it took her much time to be able to trust James. But he was patient, and he always stayed.

So when he did get called away, it was a rude awakening.

She had only recently met Steve, before Bucky (who she still called James) was sent overseas. Her maternal instinct she didn’t even know she had immediately kicked into overdrive at first sight of the sickly boy, making her promise Buck that she would watch over him, much to Steve’s dismay. Although, there was no doubt in any of their minds she would in the first place, it was a given.

(Steve secretly loved the way she fussed over him, but he would never admit to that.)

The three of them had a lovely time at the Stark Expo the night before Bucky left, leaving a happy new memory for Y/n to drift to whenever she missed the scent of sandalwood, sweat, and his cologne, that was all uniquely him.

She would picture entangling her arms with Steve and Bucky’s own as she skipped happily, pulling the boys along behind her; not too rough of course, for Steve’s sake

She had been full of an electric happiness that night, stealing kisses with James when Steve wasn’t looking, a pink tint falling upon his plump cheeks. She stole his hat right off his head of hair that she loved to run her fingers through so much and put it on, crooked so much so it nearly fell right off. She wore it the whole rest of the night, Bucky wanting to never see her take it off, if it were possible.

Later that night when he took her home, she stood by the doorway, the porch light doing a sad job of lighting up the area, casting a faint amber glow across James’ features.  

The hairs left astray from where she had Bucky’s hunter green cap previously were lit up, forming a halo. 

She was a wondrous mess, and James simply adored her in that moment.

(He also adored her in any other instance since the minute he had laid his eyes on her, but the point still stands.)

You could smell the grass if you had tried, freshly cut and still damp from the late night shower they had run through while making their way home, turning through twisty alleyways, feet pattering against walkways.

Their hands had been slipping apart the entire time, perhaps an attempt by Freyr for a cruel joke in the last hours the lovers would spend together before James was to leave.

Maybe he was up in the sky at Mount Olympus, laughing down at the two mortals as the girl kept her hand gripped securely around the man’s stronger limb, refusing under any circumstances to let go. Maybe his laugh turned to a fond smile from above, finding pleasure in how his jest resulted in such an act of youthful care, not minding in the slightest that it had been counterproductive in the best ways.

“Thank you, James. I had an amazing night.”

He grinned ear to ear, awkwardly shuffling closer to her silhouette.

“Same here, doll.”

And just like that, she had crumbled like a coffee cake, another warm and itchy wave silking up her neck. Past the neckline of the uncomfortable dress she wore because she knew Bucky loved it (even though he would no longer love it and would insist she never wear it again if his ears heard any words of upset at the garment fall past her lips).

It traveled right past her best pearls with the rhinestone right in the center that she had made sure to wear because James had once told her that they made her eyes sparkle, that sly son of a gun.

The twinkle truly had been there solely because of him on that day and most others, but she would allow him to believe what he wanted to believe until the end of time, if it kept that boyish smile cemented on his pretty face.

But as it eventually always would, his smile began to falter, shifting into a slight pout, then into a full on frown as soon as her eyes had become visibly misty.

Bucky reached a hand forward snatching the cap from her head. She huffed, and he rolled his eyes as he placed it back on his head. 

“I’ll be needing this tomorrow, sorry, sweetheart.”

They both laughed for a moment, the memories of the night still fresh in their young minds.

“I’m going to miss you, James.”

Her chin suddenly quivered, her nose ran, and her thoughts were racing at the speed of light.

She couldn’t lose him. No, not yet, she wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t ever be ready. She hadn't even begun to express to him how much she loved him, let alone that she couldn’t bear to live a day without him (as the information was quite new to her as well). So how in God’s name was she supposed to ship him off to war, just like that, practically a sitting duck for those bastard nazis to poke and prod at all they want?

“I’ll miss you more, darlin’. More than you know.”

They both made an attempt at watery smiles that ended up looking more like two painful grimaces, which was more of a reflection of their current moods than the aforementioned. His eyes pleaded with her to say something, anything. One of her quick witted facts, maybe a scolding perhaps, for having such a negative attitude in the current predicament.

Not able to stare at his collapsing facade any longer, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She quickly reciprocated, placing a strong hand on her waist.

There was a longing look in her eyes as the gears of her brain turned, carefully formulating what she wanted to say.

“Marry me.”

Well, formulating is a strong word.

He laughed at the notion, the sound ringing out and echoing off the small porch. But the whimsical tune soon halted when he realized he was the only one making it.

“Doll, are you serious?”

“Never been more serious about anything in my life, James.” She moved her hands to take his, holding them up to her chest and shaking them as she spoke with a supplicate glance. He said her nickname in a careful manner, trying to articulate a response, muttering something about not having a ring, how their families (Becca included) would be furious they missed the wedding. But she was having none of it.

“Well I’m sure given the circumstances, they’d understand, and if they don’t then oh well. And quite frankly, as for the ring, I could care less, James, make a ring out of paper and slap it on my finger, it's all the same to me. We can go to the court tomorrow morning before I see you off-”

She moved her head down to where Bucky was gazing, tilting it back up with her pointer finger.

“Let me marry you, dammit.”

They laughed for a second, both of them this time, although her’s was much more convincing.

“But why now?”

She paused again, the only sound to be heard was the soft chirping of the crickets hidden in the grass.

“Because I know you're far too much of a gentleman to leave me widowed, James Barnes.”

He pressed soft kisses on her knuckles, meeting her eyes.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Oh, only every day.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling her in by the waist. He connected their lips, and felt her smile into the kiss. He also happened to feel a hand creeping up to where his hat rested on the crown of his head, but the feeling wasn’t prolonged.

She snatched it off his shiny locks with a devilish grin, a sparkle in her eye shining like the North star Bucky soon would be gazing upon at night to direct him through the dark nights.

“You should keep that on for forever, you know. Looks better on you, anyway.”

She raised a messy eyebrow, the corner of her bright red mouth turning into a smirk.

“Oh really, is that so?”

Bucky hummed and nodded, kissing her nose and watching in delight as it crinkled up and a high pitched giggle escaped from her lips. Then it was quiet for some time, the only thing able to be heard was the droplets of rainwater sliding off the roof and plopping on the floor as her and James stood in contemplation.

“I’ll marry you, doll.”

She smiled at him warmly, leaning into his larger frame completely, the scratchy green fabric of his uniform flush against her cheek.

“I know.”

He barked a loud laugh, and she felt it through the fabric covering his chest, savouring the feeling.

“You know? Well how did you know?”

She only sighed, moving to open her rickety front door, which the whole neighborhood probably knew judging by the squeak that echoed from it.

“Because, just as I said before. You’re a gentleman. You’d never turn down a proposal in public, especially not from me.”

Bucky’s face contorted, and the gears of his head turned as he made an honest effort at understanding how they were in public.

“But, we’re not?”

She shook her head, stepping into her home and then turning to face him straight on.

“Technically, we were on the patio, which is in the yard, which is in the neighborhood, which is in public. Now, if I were to propose to you right now with you-”

She tugged his arm, forcing him into the building. 

“-also in my home, you would have every right to say no.”

She looked up, scanning his features. Admiring his cheekbones, his lips, and his sharp jaw. But most prevalently, she found herself absolutely enchanted by his eyes, as she always was.

“But I won’t.”

“But you won’t.”

She smiled, the look on her face resembling that of a fox smirking at her prey. She waltzed to the door, closing it softly.

“So,” she began, taking hold of Bucky’s hands.

“Tomorrow morning it is, then?”

“I think it is.”

“Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” She questioned, both of them having ideas that were entirely the same.

“I think I might have an inkling of an idea.”

She huffed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“You and your ideas, James. Always ‘thinking’ of something new.”

He only hummed in agreement, nuzzling his forehead against hers, before moving down to her ear.

“I’d like to believe I act on those ideas. Would you agree?”

You can most likely guess her answer.

-

The next morning was a mixture of great sorrow and great joy all at once. Sure, they had to get up at the crack of dawn on what would be Bucky’s last chance to sleep in for a very long time, and sure, the minister had given them very strange looks, but it had been done.

And to the newly wed Mr and Mrs. Barnes, it was worth it completely.

But nearly as soon as the exciting event had ended, she was standing on the slimy pebbles of Brooklyn's Pier 57, doing her best to not lose her footing on the wet stones. She had given James one final goodbye kiss, before watching him board the Dominion Monarch to be shipped off to England.

The large vessel departed, and for once, she allowed a few tears to slip down her blushed cheeks, her smeared mascara coming with it, just as she knew it would. The bitter droplets were warm, a juxtaposition to the feeling in the pit of her stomach formed by the voice nagging at her that Bucky would never see her again. That her wedding day would be the last time she would ever see her husband. It was a possible reality she never wanted to have to face.

And after so long, she decided she was tired of waiting. So she made a call.

“Hello? Is this Agent Margaret Carter?”

-

December 25th, 1943

Bucky Barnes was not opposed to the idea of Y/n joining the army. He was appalled.

So when on the crisp morning of December 25th, it was quite a surprise when he opened what he had presumed to be a letter wishing him a Merry Christmas from his wife, and rather receiving some interesting news.

He had been laying his backside against a tree, the scratchy bark feeling rather uncomfortable. He smiled, smiled at the news of his wife going to war, not that he knew, when Steve handed him the parchment, taking another sip of some watered down joe from an aluminum cup, before excitedly ripping into it like a little boy.

“I wanted to save it for today,” Steve had told him, his chest puffed out in pride for keeping the secret for so long.

Bucky initially had found it humorous and exciting, why wouldn’t he have? But his mood soon changed after reading just a few lines in.

“James, my love,

I hope this message finds you and the rest of the boys in good health, tell them I wish them all a happy Christmas, as well. There really isn’t a simple way to put this, and I hope it doesn’t put a damper on your holiday spirit, but I’ve been tired of sitting around, so I’ve spoken to Steve’s friend, Agent Carter. I now have enlisted in the SSR as Agent Barnes.”

The paper clenched in his fist, his eyes screwing shut. He didn’t even bother reading the rest before standing up and walking over to Steve, a fiery look set in his eyes. Steve soon caught on to his anger, standing up and parting his lips as he neared.

“Steve, did you know?”

Steve, a horrible liar, shrugged, furrowing his brows. “About what? Buck, what's wrong?”

“Don’t lie to me, Rogers! Did you know about her enlisting?”

At that, it went silent in the forest aside from the rustling of the branches, and the chirps of early rising blackbirds. 

The rest of the Commandos turned, eyes wide, shoulders hunched. Steve gestured for them to calm down and return to normal with a dramatic sweep of his arms, with most of them complying, but not without a few snarky comments from Dum Dum and Gabe protesting the treatment.

“Listen, I tried to stop her-”

“Well apparently, you did a horrible job. God, Agent Barnes. That’s what she'll be known as now. We'll have the whole bunch! Sarge and Agent, wow, we are gonna be one decorated family, ain’t that right, Steve?”

Bucky was ranting and rambling now, spewing angry nonsense at Steve as if that would change a thing. Steve felt a pang of guilt, hanging his head and biting his knuckle.

“Buck, is it a problem that she’ll be an Agent?”

Bucky paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes slanting.

“Of course it’s a problem, Steve! If they put her in the field, God knows what’ll happen! What if I have to see that name on a plaque some day, huh? In a museum, in some memorial for fallen agents.” His arm put emphasis on every word he shouted, and his voice had grown raspy, tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.

Steve sat his exasperated friend down, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. It distressed Steve to see Bucky this upset, after all he had done for him over the years. So if he could try to make him feel even the slightest bit relieved, he would in any way he had to.

“Bucky?”

He looked up, his eyes red and nose puffy.

“Think about how you're feeling right now. The fear, the hurt, the anxiety, all of it.”

“Steve, I don’t get how this is going to help me-”

“Just trust me.”

Bucky nodded, slumping over again.

“That’s how she feels. That’s how she felt when the war was announced, how she felt when you submitted your draft, how she felt when you were called away, Hell, how she feels every second of every hour that you’re not with her.”

“Still not helping.”

“Shut up, jerk.” They laughed, Steve elbowing him in his shoulder. The sound echoed through the lush green of the space, the tension noticeably thinner.

“The point is, the pain that this all has caused for everyone is inevitable, inescapable. So learn from it, and savour it. In the long run, we’ll be okay, Buck. I promise you that.”

James bit his bottom lip, puncturing the chapped skin, the blood pounding in his head making it hard to process what Steve had said. But what he did manage to gather, was that they would be okay.

-

February 11th, 1944

“Peggy, I’m nervous.”

“What? Are you kidding? You must be kidding, you’re ridiculous.”

Peggy gave the girl a dirty look from where she stood behind her in front of the only full length mirror at the base, looking as she straightened out her skirt and touched up her “victory” colored lip.

“I’m not kidding, Peg. What if he’s mad?”

The other agent only laughed, briefly touching her on the shoulder before walking around her to where a map of the Hydra bases they had been tracking were laid out. Peggy fiddled with one of the flags for a moment, speaking to a soldier nearby. She impatiently tapped her crimson nails on the board, the sound driving her friend insane. Peggy then began to speak, not even looking up from where she stood, bent over as she examined something else.

“Darling, the only thing Barnes will be mad about by now, is not seeing you for so long. If he was angry before, he’s long forgotten about it, I assure you that.”

She nodded (even though nobody except a nosy recruit had witnessed it).

“You know what, I think you’re right. Thanks, Peg.”

Margaret half smiled, “mmhm” ing, but keeping her head down. She did, however, lift it up when she heard the other woman’s heels clicking in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me?” Peggy remarked, brows raised and her arms crossed.

Agent Barnes turned, her painted lips beckoning Peggy to go on in a most humorous manner.

“We aren’t done here! Get over here and help me mark this up, I’m nearly finished.”

She rolled her eyes, to which Peggy only rushed her more.

By the time they were done (spoiler, she was not almost finished) several hours had passed, and the camp was now lit only by the lanterns and the moon in the obsidian sky.

The stars were visibly bright that night, twinkling like small diamonds without the restriction of smoke from busy factories and the blockage of the ever so fascinating skyscrapers.

Mr and Mrs. Barnes both were watching the stars that night, smiling at the thought of the other doing the same.

Yes, even Bucky, smiling at the thought of his wife despite his neck developing a crick from having laid on the knapsack in the back of the truck for so long. A lovestruck glance was still plastered on his face as he stared up, the road bumpy underneath the wheels of the vehicle. His body would jolt as a cause from this every once in a while, but he paid it no mind, the soft smile staying put.

Steve watched Bucky’s facial expressions, a grin coming across his own features.

“You thinkin’ about her?”

Steve looked up to the sky.

“Always am.”

-

“I know you want to wait up for him, but I promise as soon as I get word of if he’s here, I’ll wake you. You need rest.”

The agent only smiled, her eyes staying trained on the stars above. “I’ll come to bed soon, Peg. I swear.”

But Margaret knew her friend all too well, so she simply bid her goodnight and shook her head.

She whispered, though her friend was too far away to hear her, laying on her backside and tucking her arms behind her head on the damp grass.

“Goodnight, Peggy.”

She had fallen asleep on the green that night, the stars wooing her into a slumber with thoughts of her beloved. She was only awoken when she felt the ground rumble beneath her, and heard the loud whirring of a hummer engine. She sat up, pressing her hands in the wet soil. She squinted and was barely able to make out two tall men jumping out from the back of the car. 

She was initially unsure of who it was, but a shield being reflected on by the pale moonlight, and a hearty laugh soon confirmed her suspicions. She gasped and only to herself muttered Bucky’s name, picking herself up off the ground, running as fast as her feet could take her. 

“James! James!”

He turned his head from where he was talking to Colonel Phillips, immediately recognizing the voice as his wife’s. By the time he had noticed, she was already to him, so all he could do was welcome her with open arms. Literally.

She jumped into his arms, planting kisses all over his face. He laughed and laughed, Steve, and the Colonel, too, cracking a smile at the two’s reunion. She pulled away momentarily, looking over his dirty face. She ran her fingertips over the scratches and gashes, still having a hard time believing that after all this time, even under all the grime and blood and sweat, it was truly him. 

“Sarge, it’s been awhile.” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Same to you, Mrs. Barnes. Too long.” He commented, leaning forward and burying himself in her neck, allowing her to cradle him. He inhaled her perfume, taking the scent to memory for when he would inevitably have to go away once again, leaving her behind.

(So he thought.)

“That would be Agent Barnes to you.”

Bucky saluted, nodding and throwing a wink in her direction, before leaning in and planting a firm kiss to her lips that now only had remnants of red left around the edges from when she had applied it earlier on in the day. Their voices were now reduced to raspy whispers, both of them completely out of breath.

“Well either way, I’ve missed you greatly, Agent Barnes.”

“I’m glad we feel the same way.”

The two of them also felt extremely tired, leaving them to fall asleep that night packed side by side on a small cot in the corner of Steve’s tent. The brown sheets were horribly scratchy, and they had to mainly rely on each others bodies for heat. But despite this, all felt well, as if this new normal was finally worth it. 

-

In the morning, Steve had wanted to let the pair sleep in as long as humanly possible. The sun rising was one thing the great Captain America couldn't prevent, though. So as yellow light began to stream through the barely there material of their temporary home, the Barnes’ were given a somewhat pleasant awakening. 

Birds sang, bugs hummed, and the loud voices of Steve and Bucky’s soldiers could be heard, along with Steve occasionally hushing them if they came too close to their tent, still trying to preserve their well deserved rest. 

The thought made her smile, eyes slowly coming to an open. Bucky’s hand grew tighter on her waist, running circles on the silky fabric by her hip. Hers delicately made its way to brush messy brown locks from James’ closed eyes, the feeling comparable to a feather tickling the bridge of his nose. 

He scrunched it, blinking a few times, before commiting the view of waking up to the face of his wife for the first time to his memory, locked away to where Hydra would hopefully never take it. 

“Good morning, Agent Barnes.”

She shook her head, snuggling further into his chest and stretching her arms. “Mmmhm, not right now.” He placed a confused hand on her back, tracing a line up and down.“I thought it was only Agent Barnes?”

“Not in bed, James.”She looked up, smiling ear to ear. “Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.”

It was quiet in the tent, then. But always the one to break the silence, Bucky began to speak, his morning voice so incredibly low that it sent a shiver down her spine. 

“I mean, being my wife is a job in itself.”

They laughed, she shook her head and whacked his chest.

“Right you are.”

She stood up out of bed, shifting her hair to one shoulder with her hand. The glass on the face of her small watch reflected onto the walls, painting a rainbow stripe of light above Bucky’s head. She moved about, her babydoll pink colored slip moving along with her, almost as a toga would flow behind a goddess in the wind. James watched in amazement from his position propped up on his elbows, complete and total awe evident in his heart eyes for his wife. 

God, how he loved to say that, and hear it roll off of his tongue. Just to think it, even.

His wife.

He truly was a lucky man. And as she felt holes being stared into her back, she turned and giggled at Bucky’s antics.

“Now, I know your mother taught a gentleman such as yourself that ogling at women is rude, hmm?” She questioned, throwing the discarded slip at Bucky’s peeping eyes, then pulling on her uniform and beginning to fix her hair and makeup. Fingers moved quickly and expertly as she went about, her red nails almost appearing to move so quickly they were blurring.

He scoffed, forcing his nimble fingers through his knotted hair that could have been comparable to the nest that the very birds that played a hand in awakening them had resided in.

“Even if that woman is my very beautiful wife who I haven’t seen since I went away for war?”

He looked up, eyes bluer than Bing Cosby’s. (Sure, she had only seen them in the magazines, but hey, they seemed quite nice.) She finished putting on her lipstick, walking over and placing a hand under his chin. He looked up in a dreamy haze, basically begging for her lips to be placed on his.

She rolled her eyes and placed a long and sweet kiss upon his plump lips, restoring some of the color that sleep had stolen from them. She giggled at the lipstick left on his ivory skin, wetting her thumb and smudging it in a poor attempt to remove it. He cocked his head like some sort of puppy, slimming his eyes in an amused confusion.

“I guess that’s an exception.”

She leaned forward, leaving a short peck on his forehead, before ruffling his hair and making her way out of the tent. She briefly stopped hanging onto the post that acted as a door of sorts.

“Also, brush your teeth and hair, James. You stink.”

They smiled goofily at each other and she bit her lip, bidding him goodbye. And with that, she was off.

It was later in the day, now, and Bucky, Steve, and the rest of the commandos were in with the Colonel, discussing an upcoming mission. Peggy and Agent Barnes were decoding some of the Hydra messages the commandos had gathered on their previous mission in their general vicinity at the same time.

The paper was yellowed and stiff under her fingers, her eyes could barely stay focused on the multiple symbols in front of her, practically jumping off the page, vibrating at a high frequency.

She briefly closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to free her mind of the distraction that was her husband and honorary little (not so much now physically, but still) brother planning what sounded like an incredibly dangerous mission.

It was like a buzzing in her ear, the mention of capturing one of Hydra’s most valued scientists, and risking their lives in the process. And of course, he often did do just that, risking his life.

But call it wife's intuition, (Is that a thing? She isn’t sure) but she had a horrible feeling about it in the pit of her stomach. Something was telling her she should hug him a little tighter, kiss him a little harder, that kind of thing. And perhaps it could be discarded as the paranoia that had spread through many spouses as the war had started up, in fact, she wished it was.

Too lost in her own thoughts, it took Bucky’s hand on her shoulder to wake her from her trance. He began to quietly and cautiously speak her name in his position.

She turned, jumping ever so slightly. 

“Doll, you alright? Colonel was calling your name, you seemed real out of it.” He placed a hand on her forehead, then to her cheek, checking for any signs of a possible fever.

She didn’t reply to his concerns, only setting her hand utop his, leaning into him and closing her eyes. She opened them only moments later to see James squinting, his glance serious. He was quiet as he spoke, hesitating slightly. He muttered her name, trying to meet her eyes. He looked to see what was wrong, analyzing her, so badly wanting to fix whatever hurt there was lingering in her heart.

They stayed in that position for a while, the rest of the office seemingly standing still. She was the first to remove her hand, Bucky’s following suite.

“There’s a mission, in the Alps. Colonel wants you to come with the commandos and I, Peggy’s to stay here and work coms. He said something ‘bout needing someone who can sneak into places they shouldn’t be.” He chuckled, the sound bringing slight reassurance to her worrying mind.

“I’ll brief you tonight.”

She nodded, looking to her feet and whispering a quiet “okay”. They exchanged I love you’s, and then all that was heard was the faint clicking of James’ boots as he left her standing.

-

March 2nd, 1945

It was downright freezing in the Swiss forest.

And It would have been unbearable, if it weren’t for the fact she had Bucky to keep her warm, the man acting as a living furnace despite the frigid temperatures. The trek to do recom on the train they were intercepting was treacherous, feet ached, fingers were frosted, and the group spent much of their time (minus Steve, he had done enough of that when he was a sickly 90 pound asmatic) complaining to Mrs. Barnes, much to her dismay.

Usually, she would tell them off with a shake of her head or a slap to the arm, discarding their whines are nonsense.

In return for putting up with said nonsense, the commandos took her under their wing, so to say.

They never treated her differently than the rest of the group (or else she would have probably made her displeasure known, which both James and Steven warned them heavily against). Sharing the scotch, poking fun. In fact, if it weren’t for the nature of their escapade, she would have gone as far to say that she was having fun.

The only exception to this treatment was if she had to change, oftentimes borrowing a henley of Bucky’s or a pair of his trousers, the extra fabric heating her up quite nicely. Bucky would stand in front of whatever tree trunk she was hiding behind, watching to make sure no wandering eyes made any shameful attempts to catch a glimpse.

But overall, they worked well together, and were beginning to grow into a family, not that any of them would admit it.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re the chances this goes horribly wrong?”

He looked to his right to meet her eyes, wrapping an arm around his wife. They both turned back to the landscape of mountains, which were ironically quite beautiful. They were greeted with howling wind biting their noses and cheeks, causing her to let out a yelp, turning her head and tucking into Bucky’s arm briefly. He smiled and stroked the top of her messily tied back hair, allowing her to momentarily find comfort within his hold for what they didn't know would be the last time.

“With me? Nah, We’ll be alright. Zero to none.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at his cocky behavior as she always would, his smirk settling her nerves.

“Yeah.” She exhaled. “We’ll be alright.”

-

March 4th, 1945

The brick remains of the pub were dimly lit by the lone street lamp standing bravely on the cobblestone, illuminating the puffy faces of the two sitting inside. Steve, stone cold sober, and Agent Barnes, drunk and with tears streaming down her flushed skin. The dust had barely settled; it could still be felt, burning her nostrils.

She heard heels, a telltale sign that Peggy had arrived, sorting through the rubble.

She had approached calmly, observing the situation. Steve muttered something about not being able to get drunk, earning some heartfelt speech from the other agent and a proclamation of a newfound fire for justice in Steve. But Peggy’s sorrowful glance soon became unreadable, then transitioning into one of anger and sympathy, however that was possible.

She tried calling the surviving Barnes’ name, voice stern. She snatched the bottle from her friends hand, noticing she had downed the whole thing.

She began some winded spiel, none of it processing, only a faint buzz in one ear out the other.

“I know you’re hurting, but James would have wanted you to pick yourself up, an-”

“He lied. You know that? The bastard lied.”

She wiped a singular tear from her left eye, staring blankly at the ring that still managed to shine even then, in what was close to total darkness in every sense.

“He said that we would be alright. That him and I would be okay. And then he went and you know what he did, Peg? He died.”

Steve looked up, and stood, walking to where she was across from him. 

He gently tugged her up and wordlessly pulled her into a hug.

She was stiff as a board at first but slowly melted into it, realizing that it felt nice to be cared for by him like she did all those years ago, the favor being returned when she most needed it.

“We’ll fix this, I promise.”

She closed her eyes tighter, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I know.”

-

May 26th, 1945

“Steve, I’m not leaving you!”

“Go, grab the parachute and go, I’ll send your coordinates to Peggy! Both of us don’t have to die.”

“Steve, it’s alright.”

He met her eyes, water pooling in both of their orbs.

“I’ll be with him.” She forced a smile, taking hold of one of Steve’s gloved hands.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

The time was passing, they could hear the uncomfortable sloshing of the Arctic water below them, coming closer and closer. Jagged ice taunted them, glistening faintly in the light.

“Please, don’t do this to Peg.”

Steve had made his decision, as had she.

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

The sound was difficult to decipher at the command center, static intercepting the voices of the pair as they bargained with death. But it was clear enough in order for everyone to realize what was happening.

Heads were bowed, tears fell, and even the Colonel allowed a salty drop to roll down his weathered cheek.

Steve and Peggy conversed, while Barnes sat next to Steve, closing her eyes. She was content. She was finally going home.

“I’d hate to step on your-”

Then, the line went dead.

“See ya, Rogers.”

-

2011

“This guy is still alive!”

“And the girl?”

The other man only shook his head.

-

2013

Skye dragged her finger along the etchings on the gray stone, mentally reading the names of fallen soldiers and agents.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history can be traced on walls like this.”

Then she came upon something peculiar. Her finger lingered momentarily, the name on the plaque bringing back memories of when she was a young girl in school, learning about James Buchanan Barnes, one of two Howling Commandos to have died in the line of duty. The other, she couldn’t quite seem to remember.

“Huh. Bucky Barnes.” She looked a moment longer, reading the script underneath James’ name. 

“There was another Barnes?”

She turned to Agent Ward who was standing behind her, arms crossed and chin down.

“Yeah. They were married. Some say she put that plane in the water on purpose. That she could have left, but wanted to see him again after he died.

Puts it in perspective- What we do.”

-

2014

The lights in the exhibit were bright, too bright. Faces were plastered everywhere, familiar faces. The soldier felt lost without his handler, no direction whatsoever as he aimlessly wandered.

Aimlessly wandering, what a foreign concept. Not running from an enemy, or sneaking around, a shadow. Free to do whatever he pleases.

He saw his own reflection on a glass panel, information of who he supposedly was written next to it, about when he was born, when he had died. Videos playing on repeat of him and Steve nearby caught his attention, leading him to slowly make his way towards the shiny screen. He saw himself laugh, smiling with whoever this Steve guy was.

Then the screen switched to him and a girl.

In a slight contrast, the girl was the one laughing this time, her smile igniting something within the soldier, overwhelming him with a flurry of emotion and realization.

He panicked, turning to his left, only to see her again, standing next to him in a large mural. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A voice began to speak, clouding his senses even more.

It spoke about Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers, how they were “inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.”

It continued, and his confusion grew even further. It mentioned a girl who had what he learned to be his last name.

Not a mother, or a sister, but a wife.

“They became the only Howling Commandos to give their lives in service of their country."

Her name rang in his head, over and over again. He was married, he had a wife.

Had.

He walked up to where her clothes were displayed under her portrait, reaching a tentative hand out and feeling the fabric, rough from time. He could remember doing that before, but the fabric was silkier, then. It was different as a whole. It was pink satin, and the wearer was his wife, he now could see.

He was in a tent, laying on a scratchy cot, the girl laying with him, in his arms.

“Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.” Her smile and laugh were heavenly, her voice like honey. Her touch was smooth and left a tingle in its wake, bringing peace to his bustling mind.

Then he was suddenly back in the museum, hand still planted firmly on the hem of the shirt.

“Excuse me? Sir? You can’t be touching that.”

The soldier turned, facing the scrawny worker. His glasses were too large, hair too short, and pants 2 sizes too big. He gulped, doing a double take from the mural of James Barnes (who last time he checked a history book, had his remains somewhere buried under piles of ice and snow in the mountains of the Alps) and the man in front of him, who matched the recently trending image his coworker showed him of the Winter Soldier, the assassin who had over two dozen kills under his belt.

And if this were a mission, the soldier would have killed the man, executed him without second thought.

But now, he had free will. He had a choice.

So he chose to mutter a low “sorry” under his breath, pulling his baseball cap further over his brow and exiting the facility as quickly as possible.

The worker quit that night.

-

2016

A feed began to play on the tiny screen that Tony, Steve, and Bucky were crowded around, no video, just black with a thin line, moving in accordance with the audio. The sound was choppy, like it had been modified.

Zemo’s beady eyes slanted, a cold smile growing on his bearded face.

“I’ll be with him.”

“What the hell is this?” James yelled the question aimed towards both Zemo and himself.

But Steve knew exactly what it was, knew that voice, knew the feeling of the cold water enveloping him as he did his best to keep her warm in her final moments, a final favor for both Bucky and his wife.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

It was quiet, the line stopped moving. 

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

“See ya, Rogers.”

The audio cut out.

“It’s her.” Bucky’s metal fist audibly clenched, his eyes darkening.

“You let her die, Steve.”

“Buck-”

“You killed her! I had a wife, and you let her die!”

Steve backed up, instinctively raising the shield from Bucky once more.

“That was her choice, Bucky.”

He was calm. Too calm.

“I don’t give a damn what her choice was, you should’ve pushed her out of that damn plane if you had to.”

“She wouldn’t have survived that fall, Buck, even with a parachute, she probably would have drowned, or gotten hypothermia or-”

“You don’t know that!”

Bucky rushed forward, anger infiltrating every fibre of his being. He threw a punch with his metal arm, a loud clang ringing out as it collided with the vibranium shield.

-

2024

“We’ll meet again

Don’t know where, don’t know when

But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day”

The room was pitch black aside from the blinking light on the record player, letting Bucky know that power was still running through the wires of the machine, keeping the same song spinning, over, and over, and over again.

The same one that’s been playing for the past 2 months. Over, and over, and over again.

The door creaked, sending a stream of light cascading across Bucky’s ridden features from his place where he was sat staring blankly at her tags laying in his flesh hand. He had started wearing them when she insisted, just in case anything were to happen to her, she wanted him to have a physical reminder of her. He had refused to give her his own, not wanting to admit anything might go wrong to where she would need them.

What a joke.

Zola had recovered them from around his neck, later to be stored away and then found by Steve in 2015 during a Hydra base invasion. He had immediately recognized the name pressed onto the material, and assumed someone who was an undercover agent snagged them during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., never thinking anything more of it.

“This isn’t healthy, man.” Sam spoke softly from the door, his hand never leaving the doorknob.

“When we got snapped away, I didn’t mind it.”

Sam opened the door even more, sliding in the slim crack, closing it behind him.

Bucky’s glance never faltered.

“I thought that maybe, I’d finally see her again. And, I know it was selfish-” He laughed dryly, meeting Sam’s warm eyes.

“But she wasn’t there. When I died, she wasn’t there.”

Sam’s arms were crossed, now, and he was unsure of how to proceed with the fragile shell of a man in front of him.

“Then everyone came back 5 years later, she still wasn’t there.” He chuckled once more, feeling over her name on the plates, tossing the chain over his head. It was quiet, the record stopped.

“And this sounds crazy, but I got to thinking, that she must still be alive-”

“You know she’s gone, Bucky.”

James stood up, walking over to Sam, a terrifying blaze set in his eyes. He was frantic, hands moving about the air, neck straining.

“She’s not, Hydra has her! I’m certain, just like they had me. What else would explain her not being there?”

“You’re in denial,”

“No, I’m not! She’s waiting for me! She’s waiting for me to come find her, Sam!” He yelled, every word louder than the last.

And Sam Wilson had enough. 

“Alright, that’s it.” He grabbed James by the wrist, taking his chances.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some sense into you.”

More yelling and fighting ensued, all the way to the car, Bucky only ceasing his behavior upon realizing where they were heading. He was silent, then.

Getting out of the vehicle, they stepped onto freshly wet soil, green patches fading to a burnt orange, the rain a poor attempt at revival. They could hear their own footsteps all the way to their final destination, turmoil settling in.

“Why’d you take me here, Sam?”

It had started raining, the cold droplets making his hair stick to his forehead, and his tears invisible.

Mere inches before him sat two headstones, both fairly worn. The first, reading “Cap. Steven Grant Rogers, a true American hero. Loving brother, friend, and son.”

The second? Her.

Most of the words all blended together, it was clear Steve’s was the only one that had any regular visitors, willing to clean off any dirt or grime, or occasionally bring flowers (always red roses for Cap, as for his wife, he hoped that when it did happen, it was her favorites, lilies. He doubted it was, though). 

The only words that managed to stick out, at least to him, were “Barnes” and “loving wife”. He inhaled, capturing the scent of fresh rain and roses, grounding him. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, giving a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, but she’s gone, you know?”

He nodded, squatting down in an awkward position.

“Can I have a minute?”

Sam nodded, turning to go.

“‘Course, I’ll be in the car.”

Bucky waited until he could no longer see the outline of the shorter man, before taking the tags off from where they rested around his neck, positioning them utop the marble slab. He gathered a few weeds, messily shoving them into the vase, dirt and stray blades of grass falling all over the place. He tried to brush it off, only creating a sludge-like watery mixture.

He leaned forward, taking hold of the hard stone.

“I’m coming for you, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll find you.”

“Bucky?” Sam yelled from the car, confused at the extended amount of time his friend was taking.

James turned, yelling over his shoulder, “Coming!”

-

Once Bucky got back to the car, Sam reached over and patted his back, starting the engine.

“You think you’re gonna be okay?”

James only smiled, looking out behind him to where they all said was her final resting place, excitement for the future running through his veins.

“Yeah.” He said, sitting further back into the seat, closing his eyes. 

“I’ll be alright.”

·。·☆·。·。

hi!

disclaimer: (skip if u dont care) so i’ve had personal expiriences w alcoholism, and my pov has changed so much on the disease and as well as how to handle it w more empathy, and i just hope that is conveyed. my hope w my work is never to upset or offend anyone, and i hope u enjoyed. if u have a prob w anything, shoot me a message or ask to chat :)

go drink water, eat protein (if u can!) and take an electronics break. i love u, 

xx hj

#tw alchohol mention #tw alchoholism #tw denial #tw character death #tw war #if theres any more tw u want me to tag lmk pls #bucky barnes #40s!bucky x reader #40!s bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #steve rogers #Sebastian Stan #Seb Stan #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #seb stan imagine #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes x oc #seb stan x reader #seb stan x reader smut #sebastian stan imagines

[asexual-juliet]

Why Making Cassidy Casablancas the Rapist was an Absolute Shit Move

1. It’s a blatant retcon of 1.21 Veronica spends 1.21: A Trip to the Dentist looking for the person who raped her at Shelly Pomroy’s party sophomore year. She eventually finds out that it was Duncan, who had also been drugged and who had believed the sex was consensual. During her questioning of them, Dick, Sean, and Cassidy confirm that Cassidy had been left alone in a bedroom with Veronica that night, but Cassidy swears he never touched her—“Look, I swear to god, I didn't touch you, Veronica. Okay, I mean, Dick, he was, he was all on me to, and there was, there was this girl, this, this freshman, her name's Cindy, and she's kind of, well, she's easy, you know, and me and her, we were, we were supposed to—I don't know, Dick—Dick, he set something up, okay, and then, and then she was all over Logan and then she left early with him.” Cassidy seems genuine, if not a bit nervous and rambling, and Rob Thomas himself has admitted that while Cassidy was introduced with the knowledge that he would later become the season two villain, the idea of him being the rapist didn’t come along until later. For the writers to reveal him as the rapist twenty-three episodes after the plotline was neatly tied up reads as an overt attempt to start some unnecessary drama.

2. The show provides no solid reason as to why Cassidy raped Veronica. The only possible motives Not Pictured provides for the rape are Veronica’s assumption that Cassidy “wanted to prove [he was] a man” and the underlying implication that his childhood of sexual abuse thoroughly fucked him up both emotionally and sexually. Veronica’s assumption makes no sense when paired with the fact that nobody knew Cassidy had raped her until a year-and-a-half or so after the fact. If he really wanted to “prove himself,” he would have probably at least told his brother, who was the only reason he had the opportunity to rape Veronica in the first place. The argument can be made (as it was by my brother, who is sick of listening to me talk about this shit) that Cassidy didn’t tell anyone what happened because it was illegal, reprehensible, and would definitely have landed him in jail. This is all true, but Dick Casablancas is, despite his charm, a piece of garbage who, as written in seasons 1-2, would not have given a single fuck that Cassidy had raped Veronica. Dick demonstrates his tendency and ability to withhold important information from the authorities in 1.22: Leave it to Beaver, when he tells Cassidy “You need to chill out, Beav, right now. To the grave, man, that's what we said,” in reference to the fact that Logan was not in Mexico when Lilly was murdered. This information was (although not in the way Dick may have expected) crucial in implicating the real murderer of Lilly Kane. Both Dick’s lax regard for the law and the fact that he himself was the one who encouraged Cassidy to rape Veronica suggest that if Cassidy had told him what had really happened at Shelly’s party, there would be very, very little risk of Dick going to the authorities. Thus, the motive of “prov[ing himself] a man,” doesn’t hold up: if Cassidy really wanted to prove himself to someone, it would be Dick, and he would probably have told him what happened. We know for a fact that this isn’t the case because when Veronica accuses Cassidy of raping her, he just responds “And Dick still thinks I’m a virgin. You see, I know how to keep a secret.” Another interpretation of the “proving himself as a man” thing is that Cassidy was attempting to prove to himself that he was a man, but I honestly don’t know if that tracks, because he knew why he was uncomfortable with sex and while proving to himself that he could have sex without being a “baby” about it might, like, make him feel better about himself, he chose to do it in such a way that is eerily similar to the abuse he suffered as a child, despite the fact that he appeared to have other options—that very night, Dick had arranged for Cassidy to sleep with a freshman named Cindy. The other underlying motive that the show provides for the rape is Cassidy’s sexual trauma, which does not hold up for reasons I will address in entries #3 and #4. 

3. It enforces the “cycle of abuse” stereotype

The cycle of abuse is a psychological theory that states that victims of abuse are more likely to become abusers themselves later in life than those who have not experienced abuse. This theory is not supported by much evidence, and there is, in fact, evidence against it. Cathy Spatz Widom of John Jay College conducted a study in which “only 3 percent of the sexually abused boys had become adult sexual offenders, and only 4 percent of adult sexual offenders had a confirmed history of sexual abuse.” Despite the facts disproving the cycle of abuse as a psychological theory, it remains a common trope used to either a). make the audience sympathize with an abuser (as in the case of Billy Hargrove in Stranger Things) or b. vilify an abuse victim (as in the case of Cassidy Casablancas). This trope enforces the harmful notion that past abuse can serve as a valid reason for harming others and serves to justify the actions of abusers. 

4. It 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀!

Throughout season two, Cassidy is shown to be extremely uncomfortable in even remotely sexual situations. He finds himself unable to engage in any kind of sexual activity with Mac, which is understandable given his past trauma. What doesn’t track is that this same trauma is used to explain why he raped Veronica. The show presents Cassidy as uncomfortable at the prospect of sex with Mac, which he was only entertaining because he genuinely cared about her, but it also presents him as an unremorseful rapist who took advantage of a girl at a party for some unspecified reason, which… doesn’t fucking track. Make a goddamn choice in how you want to portray this character and his trauma—Has a childhood of sexual abuse made him sex-repulsed or has it made him a sexually abusive piece of shit? You can’t go down both roads. 

5. It’s clearly an attempt to make Cassidy seem more evil

It obviously took viewers some time to process the whole “Beaver’s a killer” thing because of Cassidy’s soft, sensitive nature. Given time, that plot twist can be broken down and understood: Cassidy was, first and foremost, a terrified, traumatized kid who felt like he had no other way out. His fear of what would happen if anyone found out about the abuse he suffered far outweighed any moral compass he may have possessed. Though Cassidy’s actions were objectively extremely fucked up, he did have his reasons, and they are easy to understand if you look at the situation from his point of view. The reveal of Cassidy as the rapist reads as someone in the writing room being worried that no one in the audience will believe that this smart, sweet kid could ever be truly unforgivable, and trying to amp up the sheer amount of evil in Cassidy’s actions by discarding a large part of his character and making him do the most awful thing they could think of. 

Anyway, Cassidy as the rapist makes no fucking sense, rest in peace my ace Cassidy headcanon… you still live in my head, but in kind a shitty apartment at the back of my brain and you are paying me rent because unlike canon murderer/rapist Cassidy you’re a respectful boy. 

#feel free to call out my logic if this is actually nothing #i'm viewing the situation as an asexual person so i might not be thinking about it as a lot of other people are #rob thomas really loved using rape as a plot point huh? #cassidy casablancas #veronica mars #vm #dick casablancas

[mithranqueersmusings]

5 Star Man I

Chapter: 1/3

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: Dennis has been gone for a long time, Mac misses him dearly and finds himself rooting through his old sex tapes.

Tags: Smut

Pairing: Mac/Dennis

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Mac didn't suppose he'd ever become adjusted to the newfound quietness of their apartment, or his apartment to be more accurate. Dennis leaving out of the blue like that had shocked them all, within a day or two they started to realise that it hadn't been some strange joke or scheme of some kind. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it hit Mac the hardest of all the gang. Their relationship had been complicated to say the least, never truly being defined or talked about properly, and this disappearance hadn't made things any clearer.

It was another solitary night for Mac, debating whether to actually do something productive with his evening or just slide into bed and hope for sleep to come. Most nights he'd just spent exercising, something in his mind wanted to believe that if he got into better shape somehow it would make Dennis come back. After weeks of hearing nothing, and having no way to contact Dennis after he misspelled a digit or two on the phone number he'd given to Mac, it didn't look like his best friend was ever going to return.

He was already fairly drunk, nothing too eventful was happening in the bar ever since Dennis' departure, and his head was beginning to ache. All the medication was always kept in Dennis' bedroom, Mac had questioned this a thousand times but only ever got strange and evasive answers, and even though Dennis was gone he hadn't moved any of his things around. Mac traipsed into Dennis' room, flicking on the light reluctantly and letting out a groan with the new pounding in his head. The main reason Mac thought Dennis was coming back some time soon was that he'd left all of his possessions behind; one or two things wouldn't have been suspicious but he'd left everything. Even some of his most prized possessions: his Steven Winwood CD collection, the RPG Mac had bought him for Valentine's Day and his expansive sex tape collection. The latter was definitely the most confusing, Dennis had spent years upon years creating those tapes and to leave them behind without any thought didn't sit right with Mac at all.

As he trudged over to where Dennis kept the medicine - there was so much in the drawer that Mac had never even heard of before, but he never questioned it - the tape collection caught his eye. He didn't feel like he was intruding, after all he'd sat with Dennis - and Charlie and Frank on occasion - and watched the tapes together, just like every ordinary group of guys do. Popping some pain killers into his mouth and swallowing, the dryness of his throat itched, Mac bent down and started rifling through the tapes. Even in today's world, Dennis still recorded them on VHS (something about the nostalgia of it all, he'd said), each of the title's scribbled in Sharpie alongside a star rating. Dennis took these ratings very seriously, and he rarely ever gave a girl a 5-star rating, as far as Mac knew he hadn't actually ever given one. Perhaps it was the boredom, or the alcohol, or the missing of Dennis that spurred Mac on to search through more of the tapes curiously in search for any that could boast a full rating.

Some of the names sparked memories for Mac, especially since he'd usually be in the apartment when Dennis would bring the girls home. He was careful taking them out of the box and laying them gently onto the floor, after all if Dennis did ever come back he didn't want to risk sending him off again because his tapes had gotten all smashed up. Tape after tape and not a single girl had impressed Dennis enough, which didn't surprise Mac at all, yet he continued to search as though he was somehow still connecting with Dennis through it all.

A countless number of tapes later and Mac considered giving up, he hadn't even gotten through half of them when his eyes suddenly light up; there was one! The excitement this caused Mac wasn't entirely justified, he knew that it was a little strange what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. This feeling shifted dramatically when Mac was able to bring the tape closer to read the name:

Dennis ★★★★★

Mac blinked dumbfounded. Was this some kind of strange coincidence? Surely there were no women in the world named Dennis, although Mac wasn't someone to go around judging the ridiculousness of people's names. But then what was it? Surely Dennis wouldn't have filmed one of just himself, the whole point of the tapes was to look back on his past conquests with pride, but then again he was never the most humble of people. Continuing to stare at it, Mac decided there was only one way to find out and that was to watch it.

The excitement of the whole ordeal was beginning to spread across his body, Mac told himself the erection growing in his pants was merely a side-effect of the alcohol, as he walked over to the VHS player and popped the tape in. Fumbling around for the remote desperately, Mac finally found it and settled down at the front of Dennis' untouched bed before turning the screen on.

Starting up, the video looked the same as all the other tapes with the all-too-familiar angle of the camera positioned towards the bed. Dennis was there, judging by the look of him the tape wasn't actually that old, which surprised Mac somewhat. The lighting in the room was low, a few candles lit around the space to help set a mood. Mac waited for a girl to show up as he heard Dennis saying something he couldn't quite make out, but no girl came into view. Mac shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, his pants were getting increasingly tighter, as he watched Dennis turn around to stare directly into the camera.

"Hello." He said in a low voice, one Mac had heard a thousand times before on these tapes, and even though he knew Dennis wasn't actually talking directly to him, it still felt that way.

Mac gulped as Dennis' fingers moved up to the buttons on his shirt, circling around them loosely before actually undoing them.

"I'm so glad you could join me." Dennis smirked slightly as the checked fabric slid off of his body and onto the floor fluidly "We can finally be alone together."

Mac raised an eyebrow subconsciously, this was only getting more confusing as it went on. Dennis had been known to talk to himself, even referring to himself in the third person sometimes, but making a sex tape of himself for himself was reaching a new level of narcissism, even for him. No matter how strange he thought it was, Mac couldn't deny that was completely enraptured by it and didn't think for even a second about turning it off. He'd seen Dennis naked countless times, but this felt more personal somehow, like it really was for him.

Next Dennis moved to work on his belt, slim fingers loosening the buckle and pulling the leather out until he held both ends in his hands; he gave it a quick pull and winked at the camera before tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Mac felt his mouth drying up as he eagerly watched Dennis' hands slide down to unbutton and unzip his jeans. The denim slid down his skin effortlessly, revealing that he was wearing no boxers underneath.

"You like what you see?" Dennis asked with a low chuckle, standing entirely naked in front of the camera unashamed.

Mac felt compelled to answer, as stupid as he knew that was. His own jeans were getting far too restrictive now, he had to loosen them just to relieve the pressure, that was all. Dennis took a few steps backwards then seated himself on the bed, sitting on his calves in a way which almost made him look delicate. Mac couldn't help his eyes fixating on the way Dennis' hard cock bounced as he adjusted his position. To think that Dennis was doing this on the very bed Mac was sat on now only spurred his excitement further, he idly brushed his thumb over his clothed erection and let out a quiet hiss at the much needed contact.

"God, you're so hard, aren't you?" Dennis' voice got softer as his hand slowly curled around his own erection "I think I can help with that."

"Shit..." Mac unintentionally whispered, Dennis' sultry words going straight to his cock.

"Why don't you take that hand and put it to good use?" Dennis let another quiet laugh, but his eyes were piercing "Just watch me."

Dennis began to follow his own words, slowly pumping his hand up and down his length, letting out a high-pitched moan which caused Mac to flutter his eyes shut. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd made the decision, but he'd hastily pulled out his hard cock and began touching himself too; following Dennis' rhythm closely.

"Feel good?" Dennis asked, his tongue poking out slightly to run across his top lip.

Mac found himself nodding slightly, his head was beyond hazy at this point.

"You look amazing." Dennis spoke in a whisper again as he began quickening his pace, throwing his head back gracefully as moans began to pour of his mouth.

Instantaneously, Mac followed suit and jerked himself faster, he'd awkwardly shuffled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles so that he could spread his legs more freely. His mouth was hanging open, low groans spilling uncontrollably as he watched Dennis slowly become undone. This was far from the first time he'd seen Dennis like this, but something was different this time; rather than watching Dennis dominate some random woman, instead Mac felt like he held the power this time and it was severely messing with his head. Dennis never submitted to anyone, in any situation whatsoever, so it naturally made sense that he'd only be submissive to himself. Mac knew he was never supposed to see this, that he was encroaching on Dennis' privacy, but he'd gone too far now and it felt far too good to stop.

"I feel so empty without you." Dennis moaned, his neck arched as he began thrusting into his hand "Need you to fill me up."

Mac felt himself sobering up as he watched Dennis' idle hand, that had been pressed loosely against his thigh, curl round behind him to pull his cheeks apart. His eyes widened dramatically, this certainly wasn't where he'd been expecting it to go. Mac didn't follow Dennis' actions this time, but he wasn't entirely sure why; after coming out he'd been no stranger to such activities, even though he'd never really done it himself. The sight of Dennis slowly pressing a finger into himself was incredibly mesmerising, Mac almost stopped altogether just to watch him.

"Fuck..." Dennis breathed out heavily, Mac couldn't exactly see what was going on behind him but judging from Dennis' expression he'd forced another finger inside.

Mac's hand grew more erratic and sloppy as he watched Dennis penetrate himself, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to last. Dennis' eyes had been shut tightly for a while now, the raising of his eyebrows and soft sounds falling from his lips was the only indicator of how he was feeling. A third finger was hastily inserted, Mac could only tell because of the pained expression that quickly spread across Dennis' face but it soon melted into bliss as he too started to lose control.

"So big..." Dennis groaned, beginning to ramble "You're so fucking big."

The volume of his own moans shocked Mac, he'd never really allowed himself to come undone so freely in the apartment before through fear that Dennis would hear. Thinking about Dennis not being there distracted from the blissful feeling, Mac tried to shut it out and focus entirely on the display before him, as though Dennis were truly here.

"Getting close..." Dennis gasped, Mac wasn't entirely sure how many fingers he was thrusting inside at this point, his tousled hair sticking to his forehead in places "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum for you."

Mac was almost over the edge at this point, if this had been any other porno he would've let go long before this but something inside him wanted to wait until Dennis was ready too, so that they could finish together. His wrist was beginning to ache, his lip bleeding where he'd bit into it deeply without even thinking. Dennis snapped his head forwards, his eyes opening once more as he stared deep into the camera with longing eyes.

"Are you ready?" Dennis' voice wavered slightly "I want to you to cum inside... I know you're close too, I can feel your cock throbbing inside me."

Mac was at his breaking point, he'd slowed down ridiculously just to try to stretch himself a little bit further but he could feel the wave of pleasure beginning to wash over him. Before he closed his eyes, he savoured the image of Dennis so wrecked and desperate, throwing his own head back as he managed to catch Dennis' final words.

"I'm gonna fucking cum!" Dennis almost shrieked "Cum inside me, please. Give me your cum, Mac."

Before he could even fully register what had been said, Mac was already too far gone as he felt himself stuttering and his vision departing completely. For a moment or two images flashed in his mind of Dennis riding his cock, kissing him deeply as they came. Falling back lazily onto the bed, his hand and stomach sticky, Mac lay there for a few moments debating whether he'd actually heard what he thought he had. Surely not. It was just one of those strange moments, that was all. By the time he felt ready to sit back up again, the tape had finished and the TV continued to hum quietly with the screen a faded grey. One thing Mac certainly wasn't going to do was think about the fact that he'd just touched himself too to a video of his best friend fingering his own arsehole, what good would that do? Instead, he kicked off his jeans and boxers and waddled off into the bathroom to clean himself up.

At least his headache was gone now, he thought as he splashed his face with water. There was nothing better to get you ready for bed then a good orgasm, Mac smiled to himself as he slunk into his own room and fished around for a relatively clean pair of boxers to wear to bed. Since Dennis had left, his overall togetherness of life had doubtlessly decreased, but as long as he never descended to Charlie and Frank's level, Mac didn't see what the problem was. He threw off his shirt into a corner of the room and was able to clamber into bed before he heard a sound: the front door opening. Mac scoffed and rolled his eyes, it wasn't unlike the gang to barge in so late at night but he certainly wasn't in the mood for it right now. He debated pretending to be asleep, but it didn't take long for him to realise that it would've been pointless. Letting out a huff, he stomped over to his bedroom door and threw it open, sticking his head out in anticipation of finding some strange events unfolding in his living room, but instead the gang wasn't there at all.

"Hey, buddy!" A voice called out excitedly, it was Dennis.

Mac was flabbergasted, still grasping onto the doorknob as he stared at Dennis in alarm.

"You alright? Didn't give you a scare, did I?" Dennis asked with a grin, he'd thrown his keys onto the coffee table like everything was normal.

"Dennis?" Mac finally asked, taking a couple of steps into the living room to get a better look at him (was he dreaming again?) "What are you doing here?"

Dennis let out a hearty laugh "What am I doing in my apartment? Well, living, for a start." He gave Mac a confused look before turning to face his room "You been in here?"

Mac felt his heart sink, granted he probably should've cleaned up in there - at least turned the light off - but Dennis was the last person he'd expected to see tonight.

"Uh..." Mac hurried over to Dennis who was walking back into his room casually "No, no I-"

"Oh... I see." Dennis tutted sarcastically "Been going through my tapes, again? Can't really blame you, there's some pretty good stuff on these. So who'd you go for? Brittany, Ellie? Ooh, what about Stacey, that one's a classic!"

Mac began to panic, his brain could hardly think of a coherent thought let alone figure out some kind of excuse. This had to be a dream, a nightmare would be more accurate, as he watched Dennis eject the tape from the player and hold the VHS in his hand.

Silence.

Dennis stared at the tape, all the joy that had been on his face wiped away in an instant as Mac stood there feeling his face heating up in complete and utter shame. After what felt like a lifetime, Dennis finally looked back up to Mac and though he was trying to mask what he was truly feeling, Mac could see right through it.

"You watched this?" Dennis asked, his voice had gone cold.

Mac's eyebrows knitted together, he began biting his lip again nervously "Dennis, look-"

Dennis' eyes began to scan around the room, fixating on the bed which was ruffled and dirtied "You touched yourself, to this?"

If only he could wake up from whatever hell this was. Mac scrambled for something to say, anything, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. Dennis' face shifted again, the anger melting away into something softer yet still somewhat sinister.

"What did you think?" Dennis began to smirk, the exact same one Mac had seen on the tape.

#its always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny in philadelphia smut #iasip #iasip smut #macdennis #macdennis smut #mac/dennis #macxdennis #dennis/mac #dennisxmac

[katehuntington]

2020, 1st edition Disclaimer: ‘Kate Huntington’s Author & Fanfiction Recommendations’ is a platform for writers, to show appreciation for their work and expand their audience. I do not claim to be the author of these stories, neither do I own them. Read each writer’s warnings carefully, most of them are rated +18. 

Without further ado, here is my list of recommendations.

One shots 

“While You Sleep” - written by @foreverwayward​ Fluff - Dean Winchester - 617 words       A heartwarming little fic about Dean living the domesticated life we all wish he could have. The writer has a very clever way of storytelling and the end might come as a surprise, only adding to the emotion it already brought along.

“Imagine” - written by @pennydrabbles​ Fluff - Dean x Reader - 800 words      ‘Imagine calling Dean after a bad day and saying you miss him,’ says the header of this marvelous little story. It’s soothing, with strong descriptions, yet never over the top. Simplicity isn’t necessarily a bad word. It takes skill to not overy describe a scene and let the tale be told by the personal emotion of the reader. The author is able to do this with such elegance, that you actually feel Dean’s comfort.

“Heartbeats” - written by @there-must-be-a-lock​ Fluff - Dean x Castiel - 930 words      Castiel is fascinated by the human heart, but doesn’t quite understand it, until he becomes human himself. I’ll start by saying that I don’t ship Dean and Cas together, but I do appreciate the people who do. What this little piece of art does is incredible, however, because while I was reading, I found myself rooting for them. The writer does a great job by using the literal human heart as a backbone of this story. Intriguing and very well executed.

“Everything That’s Yet To Come” - written by @fictionalabyss​ Fluff - Dean x Reader - 812 words      Dean experiences what the future beholds, with the people who he wishes could be there. The author took me by the hand through this moving little one shot, which feels like a collection of greatest hits and wishes come true. It offers peace and closure not only for the older Winchester brother, but for the reader as well. Beautiful piece of writing.

“Take A Drunk Girl Home” - written by @amanda-teaches​ Fluff - Dean x Reader - 1869 words      Dean taking care of others; it’s his nature and shows what a kind soul he truly is. The situation sketched here is no exception, and it’s softer than one can imagine. The pace is steady and the balance between fluff and comedy is just right. A lovely read.

“New Beginnings” - written by @our-jensen-ackles-love​ Fluff - Dean x Reader - 1665 words      New Year’s Eve; a new start, a new life and plenty of reason to celebrate. A lovely ‘feel good’ story that makes us forget about the monsters, pain and loss Supernatural is known for. The level of fluff is equivalent to cuddling with puppies.

“When He Cries” - written by @revengingbarnes​ Angst/fluff - Dean x Reader - 1894 words       When the woman who Dean loves falls victim during a case, the hunter has trouble dealing with the aftermath. And, boy... Does that hurt to witness. This is one of the most breathtaking stories I have stumbled on. The realism that is used to describe the gruesome and horrific angst, the emotion that is laced in every word, had me clutching my chest while reading. It’s is a beautiful piece of art.

“Nobody” - written by @soaringeag1e​ Angst - Dean x Reader - 2561 words      This one shot reminds us why we should never stay angry with a loved one and let a fight unresolved, because what if something bad happens and we won’t have the chance to make it right? The writer gives a great sense to that fear and having to watch Dean go through this nightmare is truly heartbreaking. 

“The Demon Inside You” - written by @foreverwayward​ Smut/angst - Demon!Dean x Reader - 4375 words       Curing Dean from the demon that he has become proves to be difficult when he’s so hard to resist. What else is hard to resist, is this beautiful pitch black one shot. I don’t read Demon!Dean fiction often, because it still feels foreign to see the character who I love so much turn into something evil. This however, is so gripping and well written, that the darkness swallows up the beholder. Rough, hot, sad, narcissistic, all these ingredients packed up in one hell of a story.

“Curves And Edges” - written by @kittenofdoomage​ Smut/fluff/angst - Dean x Reader - 4375 words       This equally sweet, sexy, funny and sad story is a big shout out to all women who think they don’t meet the beauty standards and feel like they will never be good enough to get noticed. It is one thing to replace a name with Y/N and call it a reader’s insert; it’s a gift to make every person reading this feels like they are the character in this story. The author handles every woman’s insecurities with grace, making her words both relatable and soothing. Her spot on version of Dean reminds us that we are all beautiful, desired and unique.

“Hold Her Tight” - written by @waywardbaby​ Fluff/smut - Dean x Reader - 2955 words     ‘A story of a deep need to feel someone close to you’, is how the author describes her work. I couldn’t have said it better, because this one shot isn’t about sex; it’s about love making, and there’s a difference. What I also appreciate, is that Y/N takes the time to pamper herself. We all deserve some self care.

“Watch Your F!cking Mouth!” - written by @impala-dreamer​ Smut/comedy - Dean x Reader - 1984 words       Dean falls under a literal curse, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was wheezing, couldn’t breathe and died laughing. It’s astonishing how the writer can juggle comedy and sex without the two taking each other down. An uplifting read.

“Thank God For Sexual Frustration” - written by @winchester-fantasies​ Smut - Dean x Reader - 4398 words       God had nothing to do with writing this sinful story; we can thank the author for that. When Y/N is on a dry spell that has her frustrated, Dean helps her out in the best way imaginable. Delicious smut served in three courses, because we all know Dean keeps his lady satisfied.

Series:

“Life For Rent” - written by @winchest09​ Smut/angst/fluff - Mobster!Dean x Escort!Reader  - WIP      This amazing series follows an experienced, smart and resilient escort, who is ruled by contracts, money and aliases. When Dean becomes her client, he makes it his mission to understand what this interesting woman is hiding.       Conspiracies, deceat, crime. A strong family bond, blossoming love, oh, not to mention the sex. This series is intriguing beyond imagination and certainly not just another mobster fanfiction. The writing is smart and I could tell from the first paragraph that it’s loaded with hints and foreshadowing, but I couldn’t pick them out. This triggers a curiosity like an itch I can’t quite scratch away until I finish reading this story. And so I wait eagerly and drop everything the second a new chapter comes out.  An absolute must read!

“Findings” - written by @kathaswings​ Angst/smut/fluff - Dean x Reader - finished. Update: Sadly, this series is no longer online      This story starts out with what seems to be a routine demon hunt, until Dean and his brother find a frightened five year old survivor amongst the blood and corpses. Keeping the smart little Mackenzie safe and getting her back to her older sister proves to be difficult, because this case is a whole lot bigger than they anticipated and is likely to change their lives forever.      This is one of my favorite Supernatural series and I revisited it recently. The overall story arc is a mystery I just had to unravel and I couldn’t put it down if I wanted to. The bond between Dean and Mackenzie is so precious. Writing a child isn’t easy. I’ve read plenty of books and seen plenty of films in which the maturity the creators added wasn’t natural, but this author handles Mac’s dialogue amazingly well. What’s also interesting is the jumps from point of view between Dean and Y/N, giving very personal perspectives on the gripping story.

“When You Least Expect It” - written by @coffee-obsessed-writer​ Fluff/angst/smut - Jensen Ackles x Musician!Reader - WIP      This gorgeously written slow burn series kicks off when Jensen visits the idyllic town of Seaside. After a bad breakup he keeps his mind occupied with the organisation of a music festival, hoping to find a musician that fits the vibe he has in mind. He meets a spirited, undiscovered performer, not only her voice catching him by surprise. A friendship blossoms, with potential to grow into something more, but will their past allow the love they feel for each other?      Talking about an epic love story, but it’s so much more than that. The music that plays such an important factor, the setting that is Seaside. The fabulous supporting characters Bri, Rob, Jason and Jared, the wardrobe, not to mention the wonderful little gems and details that this author weaved into the story, showing how much love she has put into it. This is without a shadow of a doubt my favorite RPF I’ve come across.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the work of the authors above, don’t be afraid to let them know. I’m sure they will appreciate it. Feel free to share!

If you have any suggestions or would like a tag in the future, drop a request in my inbox or send me a message.

Love, Kate

‘Kate Huntington’s Author & Fanfiction Recommendations’ taglist: @adoptdontshoppets​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @idksupernatural​ @indecisive20something​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @winchest09​ @wingedcatninja​

#Kate's must read #fic recs #Kate's fic recs #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Sam fanfiction #Castiel fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural #SPN #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfic #Sam fanfic #Cas fanfic #Dean angst #Sam angst #Cas angst #Dean smut #Sam smut #Cas smut #Dean fluff #Sam fluff #Cas fluff #Dean x Reader #Sam x Reader #Dean Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x reader #Destiel #not mine

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Old faces

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

Part 1 Old faces | Part 2 >

Disclaimer: none, (re)meet-cute

Author’s note: It’s romcom weekend, okay? 😘

Word count: 1.682

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers. 

I’d like to share with you some old wisdom from my nan on how to make: The perfect cake.

First of all: you always make sure you grease up the tin - ‘gotta make it slide right in, slide right out.’ She’d say with a grin so wide that my 12-year-old-self thought she’d tear her face in half. Her eyes would glitter mischievously as her hands moved with those swift and precise movements, leaving no inch of the inner cake tin unbuttered. 

‘And! Make sure you always fully preheat the oven, because there’s no shortcuts to the perfect cake.’ She’d tut, pointing at the oven, to which I’d nod most dutifully, preheating the oven as she requested while she’d utter something about making sure you get yourself a good size baking pan; ‘He’s gotta be right for the job and most definitely don’t try to double the recipe. Focus on one good cake, and do NOT overdo it. Nobody likes a dense, overworked cake.’

Then, her hand lightly beating through the cake battery, she’d turn to me and give me a knowing look. ‘If you don’t know what kind of cake you want, you’ll only be in for a disappointment, you know.’ - To which I would start bouncing up and down, eagerly requesting chocolate cake. There was no doubt in my mind what kind of cake I wanted. It always was chocolate cake. 

-

Those were good Sundays. Perfect cake baking Sundays. 

And do you know what? Only now, 25 years later, do I realise she was never truly talking about cake. Or baking tins. Ha..no. Silly me. My frisky nan was talking about men. Partners. Love. And perhaps sex, but that leaves you some space for interpretation. 

Now, my nan was a great baker. She had five kids. Buns of joy, really. 

I, on the other hand, not so much. Despite knowing full well what kind of chocolate cake I want, I just happen to be a very bad baker. And perhaps.. it’s time that I start to learn, because her last advise still rings true in my ears:

‘And timing, my dear, listens more closely than you think.’ She’d wink, kissing grandpa on his cheek, to which he’d grumble some indiscernible acknowledgement, the glimmer in his eyes not hiding the fact he still loved her dearly.  

Yes. I’m going to try harder and bake myself the best - birthday - cake, with a bit of nan’s advice. Meanwhile I hope you get all your cake wishes fulfilled, too. 

Have a good, single Pringle Friday my dear readers.  

A just turned 37, 

Ali

A scorching hot September sun washed over the zoo entrance, the Durrell challenge just finished but the media circus far from over. 

I yawned, stretching myself out as I watched my fellow journalists and reporters hover like a dark cloud around the person I would be interviewing in some ten minutes from now. 

The poor guy hadn’t had a moments rest since he crossed the finish line of the Durrell challenge run and I felt my heart pang with guilt for taking another snippet of his precious time. 

Then again, I had a job to fulfil and stupid as it was, I kind of enjoyed writing for the local newspaper. Writing was my thing, and currently I was in charge of writing one of the most beloved blurbs in the paper; Old Faces. 

Every week I interviewed a well known inhabitant of the island. George the butcher and his famous spicy sausages, Henriette and her fourteen dogs, Ilias the swimmer - an old man swimming an astounding 10k a day. And a tiny highlight being todays interviewee; Henry, the movie star, back on our beloved Jersey Island to show his support for the local zoo.

Meanwhile for me, he was just Henry, my childhood neighbour, a friend.

—

‘Alice! You’re on!’ A familiar voice startled me and I quickly scrambled up from the little stone wall I had been lounging on, my hands grabbing for my notes and voice recorder as I started making my way through the paparazzi mayhem.

‘Sorry…sorry! Excuse me..Coming through.’ I said, pushing myself past the crowd until I reached the shade of a dark blue canopy, finding that strangely familiar face before me, resting in a chair, his running gear sticking to his muscular physique. 

Henry. 

He stood up from his chair, reaching out his hand to ..eh...introduce himself? I felt a sour taste in the back of my throat as I realised he didn’t recognise me, his lips pulled up into a friendly, yet professional smile. 

Yaiks..Okay. 

Don’t mind it, Ali, the poor guy can’t help it. 

‘Hi..’ I awkwardly moved my stuff to one arm so I could shake his hand. ‘I’m Alice, local newspaper.’ I greeted, to which he nodded, his smile growing ever so slightly. He pointed at another chair, gesturing me to sit. 

‘Please take a..-’ My voice recorder slipped out of my arm as I tried to take my seat, my eyes barely registering as Henry moved with lightning speed to grab onto the cord of the device mid-air. I gasped. 

‘Oooph..that could have gone wrong.’ He chuckled, winking at me before he put the recorder back in my hand. 

‘Sorry.’ I sniffled, feeling the slightest of blushes creeping over my cheeks. ‘Thanks Hen.’ I muttered without overthinking my words, my eyes already averted to a woman that appeared on my right - his left. 

‘Hey!’ She smiled - Samantha, a chubby and bubbly lady I had known since my toddler years. 

‘Hi Sam.’ I smiled in turn, seeing she held onto a sort of timing-device. 

‘Okay, so..we’re a bit busy as you see. You’ve got four minutes..starting..eh..’ She clicked a button. ‘..now! Have fun!’ She cheered, winking cheekily at Henry.  

‘Oh.. yea yea. Okay thanks.’ I nodded, my brow furrowing ever so slightly as Sam sauntered off again. Quickly I straightened my back, my sweaty fingers fumbling with that darn voice recorder - I really should get a new one. 

‘So. Eh Henry! Hi! Welcome back!’ I started, offering him a smile, my fingers still trying to get the tiny buttons to cooperate. 

Click. Set. Start. 

Okay, here goes. 

Henry smiled his most warm, Henry-esque smile in return. ‘Thank you..Alice.’ He hesitated a moment, as if deciding what to make of my name. Perhaps because he started to recognise me..or...perhaps he was just tired, trying to memorise all these three million names that wished for his attention today. 

Yea..probably that was just me, wishfully thinking.

He didn’t seem to recognise me, and that was..okay. 

I swallowed. ‘Okay. So. To give you a short insight in this interview. I write the Old Faces blurb in the paper and I must say that we mostly entertain older readers so ..you know..keep the “young folk language” to a minimum.’ I winked, clicking my pen. Henry shrugged. ‘That shouldn’t be to hard. So what would you like to know, Alice?’

This time my name escaped his lips far more fluently, naturally. I looked at him, our eyes meeting for a few silent, peaceful seconds. 

‘I’m curious. What do you miss most from your time living here?’ Our eyes remained locked together as he licked his lips. ‘Hmm.’ He broke our gaze, thinking. ‘..Many things. I had a most wonderful childhood here. The beautiful nature, the ..zoo.’ He nodded at the zoo entrance behind us. ‘..the closeness of the community.’

I nodded, quickly interrupting him as time was sparse. ‘And what particular elements of that community do you miss the most?’

‘The simplicity of it.’ He started, then furrowed his brows. ‘No scratch that. That doesn’t quite capture it. Hmm..I think I mostly really enjoyed how natural it was to be around one another, care about fellows and neighbours, without there being any hidden agendas. You see my life is quite different now. I reside in circles that live and breath fame, fortune, wealth. Which sounds great for outsiders, but for insiders it can be exhausting at times too. For me at least, it can be. Being back here just makes me realise that not all people are like that. And, I enjoy the breath of fresh air it brings.’

‘And the great exercise too.’ I tease, making him chuckle in delight. 

‘Yes, and great exercise. That last hill sure was a..challenge.’

‘And how are you going to spend your time here? How long are you staying?’ My pen still hadn’t touched the paper to make notes, our eyes sharing that same deep look again. Deep browns looking into fresh water blues.

He had aged well. 

‘Only for the weekend unfortunately. But I’ll use the time to visit family, reacquaint with..old friends..friendly faces.’ His lip tugged in a half smile, near shy. Did he recognise me now? I wasn’t so sure, and perhaps I could have asked, but it wasn’t so - our little interaction was abruptly stopped as Sam reappeared.

‘And... that’s it! Thank you so much for coming Ali!’ She spoke, practically squeezing herself between me and Henry. I blinked away from Henry’s gaze and quickly looked up, realising this was it. This was all I’d get to see of Henry. 

Alright then. 

‘Thanks Sam.’ I smiled, quickly grasped my things and stopping my voice recording before thanking Henry.

‘Enjoy your stay!’ I laughed as he watched me grasp onto the voice recorder for dear life.

‘Thanks..eh..Ali.’

Once again that unnecessary hesitation before saying my name - though this time it was even more stomach-flutter-worthy, because he used my nickname. My childhood nickname. 

I could only shoot him the quickest glance over my shoulder before Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder, her voice muttering some sappy gossip into my unhearing ear. 

I didn’t hear a word she said, because my mind was racing. 

Did he recognise me? Did he recognise me? I couldn’t tell, his mouth slightly agape as if he were to ask something, but Sam had already coached me away.

And there I went. Back to my failing, cake baking life.

--

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69

Fluff lovers squad: @star017 @perhaps2remember @pterodactylterrace @witchersqueen @desperate-and-broken​ @toomanyfandomsshreya​ @deliciouslysassyarcade​ @pamacs-macs​ @cavilladdict​ @scorpionchild81​ @lebguardians​ @sofiebstar​ @amberbabem​ @mis-lil-red @aestheticqueenb​ 

Want to added or removed to the tag list? Shoot me a message! 

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill meet cute #henry cavill x author #henry cavill x writer #fanfiction #the marriage pact #jersey islands #kal #henry bear #fluff #romcom

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 2) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, duh. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: A wild Deacy appears! Reader was supposed to meet him in this chapter but it got a bit long. I may have awkwardly stuffed in some backstory as well, but I wanted to get through it before we start having more interactions with the members of Queen. I’m a hoe for Hot Space and Cool Cat is such a vibe so I had to throw it in here. If you haven’t heard the original demo with Bowie you should take a listen. The music video concept was sparked loosely by Mitski’s “Happy” video (it’s gory af, be forewarned). I’m aware that the MTV of the 80s definitely would’ve banned anything like that, but it’ll come back around in the plot later on.

Songs Mentioned:

Heart of the Night - Juice Newton

More Than A Feeling - Boston

My Best Friend’s Girl - The Cars

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​

- - - - - - -

February 1982 - Orpheum Theater, Boston

It’s noisy in the cramped green room backstage at the Orpheum Theater in Boston. Gone were the days of grand arenas while tagging along with Hall and Oates. Now only around 2,000 bodies lined the seats out in the house, but you still feel that familiar bubble of nerves as Dawn busies herself around your hair. 

Dawn, your best friend from your two short years at NYU, had agreed to tag along for the short tour to help with your “look.” Not that you ever really had a problem with your usual jeans and t-shirts, but this rock type of glam proved to be a different beast, and Dawn certainly had an eye for style. Her voluminous hair always streaked blonde and crimped to perfection. She’d tried to convince you many times to do something chemical with yours but you held firm to your virgin hair, causing your pre-show routine to run well into an hour and a half to get the desired popular style. You smile up at her as she curls part of your bangs away from your face, truly grateful to have another woman around.

“Babes, please stop moving your head. I’ve had to do the same piece 3 times already.” She tuts at you. “And Eds, I’ve asked you how many times to watch your elbows, jesus christ.”

Eddie tries to cram in even tighter against the wall, keeping to the five tiny spots you’d all wrangled against the mirror. “Ay, I’m trying over here. It takes some effort to get all this together.” He smirks, running his fingers through his already perfectly coiffed hair. A shame really, that it would be utterly destroyed within 15 minutes of being on stage.

“Have we picked a city song for tonight yet? I want to go over it in my head a few times before we go on.” Lawrence calls out, trying to tug on a pair of pants that look a size or two too small for him.

The Limbs had taken to playing one song per show by a famous local artist from the city they were in. Since they only had the one album out, it was a chance to get the audience singing and moving together; to change up the pace. A modified tip from a certain mustached rock legend that the band had started to implement.

“I thought we decided on More Than A Feeling?” Eddie says as he tears his eyes away from his own reflection.

“That’ll be what they expect. I think Bun sounds better on My Best Friend’s Girl,” Rich says simply. He’s attempting some form of stretching routine in the back corner of the room, his extremities bumping up against the walls.

“So Y/N’s taking this one?” Steve asks, lounging across a small loveseat against the wall, his legs dangling off of it delicately. He looks up from whatever song he’s been working on.

“You heard what the label said. They want Y/N more center stage, so to speak, for marketing reasons.” Rich tries folding his body into some sort of pretzel shape. A light “oof,” escapes his lips as he falls backward slightly.

“Ah yes, we need to give the public what they want,” you huff, wanting to roll your eyes if not for Dawn covering your head in a cloud of Aqua Net.

Eddie starts pacing, or at least tries to, “I just don’t get why they’re trying to make her into some Debbie Harry.” He scoffs, “Like that’s ever gonna happen.” 

Dawn glares at him. It was a bit of a low blow, but Eddie was still getting used to sharing the spotlight with you, with him singing lead on almost every other song. 

You were still struggling to find your presence on stage and were more than happy to take a back seat to the boys for the most part. And while some of the band’s other singles were gaining traction, none were close to catching up to Heart of the Night, which was now getting steady airplay and record sales thanks to the absurd music video that hit TV screens everywhere a few weeks back.

“That’s true, Y/N’s much more of a Linda Ronstadt type if we’re throwing out names,” Lawrence grunts out. Finally able to close the button on his skin-tight pants.

A cold laugh erupts from Eddie. “Exactly. It’s the Eighties now if you haven’t noticed. It’s all about edgy sex appeal, and let’s be honest, even Steve has a better chance of-”

“Enough!” Dawn’s voice sliced through the air, the daggers thrown from her eyes flying towards him. She leans down to your level to examine her masterpiece. “You look as sexy as a goddamn playboy bunny, hun. No pun intended.” Her voice softens as she pinches your cheeks.

The room goes mostly quiet for the next few minutes as the local opening band starts to close out their set with their last two songs. Only Rich’s deep breathing, fitting in time to the beat. 

You chew your cherry painted lips, mulling over Eddie’s words. You knew full well that you weren’t exactly the frontwoman the label or the public dreamed of. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be a frontwoman at all. When you’d finally given in to Rich’s insistent pestering to come have some fun with the boys, you’d been at NYU for two years. You loved your film classes but felt the hole that was left from the absence of playing any type of music. In high school, you’d all show up to a party with a variety of instruments in your grasps. It almost always resulted in a crowd gathering around to listen, joining in with your voices, clicking their beer bottles in time with the beat. It was when you had felt most carefree, and you had ached for that feeling again.

But playing locally turned into recording an album, for which you wrote a song for some dream of a man that only existed in your thoughts. Next thing you knew you were scooped up by Columbia Records, missing classes to attend photoshoots or album release parties. People were listening to your voice, your song, and wanting more. You dropped out of college to the dismay of your parents but were immediately enveloped in your friends' glee, finally reaching the precipice of something they’d only dreamed of. You hated the thought of letting them down in any way but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a fluke, that you had nothing else to give. Destined to fade out as a one-hit-wonder and a disappointment to your best friends in the world. The weight hit your shoulders as you slumped in your seat. 

None of this was supposed to happen, you tell yourself. It never happens like this.

You’re broken out of your daze when there’s a rap at the door and a muffled “5 minutes” from the stage manager behind it. You all stand, waiting for Rich to spread his wings and engulf you in your usual pre-show pow wow. You slide Dawn in next to you in the now group of 6, needing someone steady as an anchor.

“If you’d please, Reverend.” Steve probes, cheekily.

“We’re gathered here today” Rich begins and Dawn giggles. “To bring immense joy to those 2,000 idiots out there, who so willingly sold out our show for us. They deserve a performance played to 200,000, so that’s what we’re going to give them. In the name of our fathers, John, George, Paul, and Ringo. Let’s go give em’ hell.”

“Amen!” you all shout and disband.

As you follow the boys into the dingy hallway leading to the stage, Eddie catches your wrist. He looks at you through his long lashes with an uncharacteristically shy smile that almost never sees the light of day.

“I’m sorry for being a prick, Bun. I shouldn’t have said all that,” he mutters as you continue to walk, not wanting to miss your cue.

“No worries, Eds. You were right though. I’m definitely no Debbie,” you force a chuckle at yourself while a roadie slips your guitar strap onto your shoulders.

“It’s not alright. And no, you’re not,” he says catching your downturned eyes. “You’re Y/N fucking L/N, and you’re just gettin’ started, baby. All you gotta do is take a little bit of the love we all have for you and give some to yourself once in a while, alright?” A grin forms, showing his adorably asymmetrical teeth as he reaches out a hand to ruffle your painstakingly perfected hair. “That’s better. Now let's get out there so you can show the world exactly what kind of frontwoman you are. And don’t be scared to show them a hint of Bunny while you’re at it.” You move your guitar out of the way to pull him in for a close hug. You hear Steve start banging his snare and pull Eddie on to the stage with you, feeling a bit lighter than you had been minutes ago.

You approach your mic and take a look out at the packed, hazy theater.

“Well hello, Bawston!’ Your accent rings out to the faceless figures before you. “Aren’t you all looking fuckin’ fabulous tonight!”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Musicland Studios, Munich

“No, I didn’t say it’s bad, just that it sounds tinny,” Brian argues, crossing his spidery arms over his chest as he leans against the doorframe. 

“And it’s as if you’ve shoehorned Bowie in there just to mumble in the background incoherently. A waste, really.” Roger tacks on from beside him.

John sighs and leans his head against the back of the couch in the studio. “Just because it’s not your precious red special or your own magic fingers at work, doesn’t mean it’s tinny,” he counters calmly. Trying his best to keep the annoyance from seeping into his voice, knowing that Brian already had anger stemming from John’s earlier composition for the album.

It was the first time this week that all four men were in the studio together. Finishing up Hot Space was proving to be a strain on all of them and the growing rift had caused the men to nearly finish their songs separately instead of in their usual group dynamic. John’s experimentation into different styles, such as funk and disco, had not been willingly received thus far.

“Well, I sound rather fabulous, if I do say so myself. I’m very proud of us, Deacy.” Freddie states, getting up from his own place on the couch and stretching.

“It’s not that, Fred. It just doesn’t sound like us.” Brian sighs, already sensing the escalation of a row coming along.

“Oh please. Not this again...” Freddie huffs.

“That’s because it’s not us. It’s me and Freddie.” John cuts in with a roll of his eyes, landing them on Mack, their producer, who just shrugs and trains his gaze back to the board. 

“That’s for sure.” Roger murmurs out. Now it’s John’s turn to cross his arms as he levels their pointed gazes. He’d worked with Fred for days putting together “Cool Cat,” hoping that the additional vocals from David Bowie would be a selling point for the other two.

With a clap of his hands, Freddie moves about the room. “Why don’t we take a quick break and then give it another listen?” Roger groans. Freddie pats his shoulder as he makes his way over to a radio beside Mack.

John rubs his tired eyes before pushing himself off the couch, eager for a break from the energy in the stale room. “I’m grabbing a coffee,” not offering one to the others as he brushes past Brian on his way out, quickly retreating down the hallway as fast as his legs will carry him.

The remaining three startle a bit as Freddie flips on the radio, Lo & The Limbs hit single pours from it, louder than expected.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Simply marvelous,” he exclaims, jumping up and down lightly. Roger and Brian raise their eyebrows in silent questioning. “This is the band of rascals I was telling you about the other week. They must’ve just broken out here.”

“The yanks you met while in the States?” Roger questions, turning his attention to the song, eager to judge any brimming competition.

“Yes, yes, the wild young lady who swears like the devil and her band of merry giant trees.”

“We have one of those!” Rog nods in Brian’s direction, voice muffled by a cigarette now dangling from his lips.

“Hm, Brain’s more of a willowy spruce, if you will. These ones are giant redwoods. You know American’s. And they have these thick New York accents. I could barely understand a word they were saying at first. What a riot they were.” he remembers fondly.

“I feel as if I’ve heard this before, but I can’t place it.” Brian ponders, almost to himself.

John appears in the doorway, blowing lightly on a steaming mug.

“Probably from that shocking video of theirs, darling,” Freddie waves his hands about. “Oh, you must’ve seen it. They’re all dressed up like they're in Grease or something, and this square of a girl is pinning after the bad boy. But he’s with this slutty little thing. And oh, I can’t recall the details, but in the end, she ends up murdering the slut!” He slaps the table for effect. “But for some odd reason the boy is okay with it all and they run off into the night together, covered in blood.”

“Sounds… spooky?” Roger shrugs. John stifles a chuckle.

“It’s dramatic! And sexy. And obviously working for them.” The wheels already turning in his head.

John tunes out their chatter and trains his ears to said song, which is about halfway through. The instrumentals seem a bit basic for his taste. The soft strum of an acoustic guitar, a slightly heavier electric over it, with a simple bass line. A female voice flits in.

Cool city moon lays its touch on the room,

Your eyes reach to me

It has a rasp to it. Akin to Stevie Nicks, he thinks.

Two shadows fall saying nothing at all,

We know what we need

No, not quite. It’s entirely it's own if he’s being honest. He can feel the soul pulsating through words and the power that’s beneath it. One that could probably fit with any genre it should choose. His interest peaked.

In the release, two prisoners are free from the darkness

One more escape surviving the heartache and madness

The raw emotion erupting from the speakers and the lyrics start to paint a picture in his mind, scrambling to fill in the faceless voice.

In the heart of the night

The chorus starts and picks up steam quickly. Male voices begin to fill in on background vocals, blending together seamlessly.

We run like bandits

Two hungry hearts under the gun

Her voice cracks a bit, in a charming way. It must be radiant when heard live.

In the heart of the night 

When we find each other

Were stealing love on the run

In the heart of the night,

Heart of the night 

A small smile plays on John’s lips as the song fades out. They’re good, he muses to himself, a bit intrigued by the song and Fred’s colorful description of the accompanying video.

“A great voice indeed. They’ve got a strong sound going.” Brian chirps up.

“That’s her first swing at writing, too. Wish it had been that bloody easy for us.”

“Is she a looker, Fred?” Roger wags his brows.

“Oh please, they’re practically babies! Although that drummer of theirs is certainly something to write home about… Even with the head of hair he has. A bit like a mushroom. A cute one.” Freddie ponders, stroking his full mustache.

John reaches up and pats the tight curls atop his own head, wondering how it would look if he ceased from trimming his current short perm.

“I do hope they catch on here. What fun that would be.” John readily nods along without realizing it.

Freddie switches off the radio and turns back to the other three men. “Alright back to it then. Queue it up, Mac,” placing a hand on the man’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

- - - - - - -

March 1982 - Columbia Records, New York City

“Why are the undersides of my knees sweaty? I’m not a back of the knee sweat kind of guy, alright?” Lawrence fidgets, adjusting his collar for the fourth time in two minutes.

You casually gulp down your third glass of water while staring at the wood-paneled walls of the office. Attempting to avoid the gazes of a number of gold discs lining the walls, the echoes of your musical idols. They seem to be laughing at you.

Steve partakes in his trademark bouncing routine, the chair underneath him squeaking in a violent rhythm. “Do you think it’s the video? It has to be the video or we wouldn’t be in this office. I knew we shouldn’t have taken that big of a risk right out of the gate.”

“You gotta be kidding me. You basically doused yourself in the blood when Eddie pitched it!” Rich cuts in, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found.

“What! It was your idea for the--”

The door behind where the group is gathered swings open and in strides a stocky man with a full beard and tinted aviator sunglasses still covering his eyes.

“What are we all standing around for? Sit, sit, sit, c’mon.” His gruff Brooklyn accent ringing out as he moves to sit behind a large mahogany desk.

The Limbs scramble to fit on the couch across from him, with you ending up perched on the armrest, gripping Rich’s bicep for support.

The man, Walter Yetnikoff, CEO and Chairman of Columbia Records, grunts as he eases into a leather chair, finally removing his glasses, revealing surprisingly kind eyes, “Jeez louise, look at you kids. You look as if a nun just caught you all playing with each other’s junk. What’s with the faces?”

“Mr. Yetnikoff, we’d like to sincerely apologize for the backlash that has come from our video. We should’ve known better than that. We could’ve toned it down… a lot.” Eddie rushes out. He wipes his hand over his too-snug tailored pants, probably leftover from days of youth choir.

Walter barks out a laugh. “I’ll admit I was a little shocked to find out that’s what you needed a high school gym for, but relax a little, will ya? You’re not here to be scolded. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have fought so hard to get it airtime.”

The Limbs visibly relax- a tad, but their eyes all stay wide.

“Well aren’t ya gonna ask why you’re all here then?”

“W-why are we here?” Rich asks quietly. “Sir.” He adds.

“It seems that the slight PR crisis of a video you made has made its way across the pond,” Walter smirks.

“You mean…” Steve trails off in a voice two octaves higher than usual.

“You kids better like air travel because there’s gonna be a lot of it in your near future. The hit has broken into the London airwaves and they’re not as god fearing as viewers here seem to be. We’re sending you over there next week now that you’ve wrapped up the tour.”

“Holy shit!” Lawrence yells. You feel yourself falling back off your perch as your large friends all jump to their feet. Rich’s gangly arm luckily catches you and pulls you immediately into a suffocating hug. “You did this, Bunny!” He screams in your ear. “You did this!”

“Alright, alright, you can all go celebrate and drink your faces off in a second,” Walter calls out over the group who immediately shut their mouths. “We have a few details to iron out but I’m hoping to send you over there for a full press tour. Photoshoots, interviews, talk show appearances. The works, you got it.”

Steve lets out a squeal of delight, his voice not yet returning to its usual bass.

“You.” He points a stubby finger in your direction. “I’m waiting to hear back about a last-minute cancelation on some game show out there. We’re gonna try to get you in. You know your shit?”

“W-what kind of shit, sir?” You ask from the bear hug that Rich still holds you in.

He holds up his hands, gesturing to the gold discs that surround him. “Music, my dear.”

All you can do is nod, not wanting to think about what that even entails.

“That’s what I like to see. Now get outta here so you can all combust somewhere outside of my office. We’ll call you in a few days. Get those bags ready, you hear me?” He waves you all off.

Before you have a chance to say anything, the boys are sweeping you out of the room. And off to the start of whatever comes next, you guess.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #deaky fic #deaky x reader #deacy fic #deacy x reader #angelofmydreams

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1977

Under the cut.

Marilyn McCoo & Billy Davis, Jr. – “You Don’t Have To Be A Star (To Be In My Show)” -- January 8, 1977

They will be happy with each other as they are, not needing a "star." It sounds literal, like they think most people only want to have relationships with celebrities. It's got some bounce and a beat, but it's very light and not poetic at all. Meh.

Leo Sayer – “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” -- January 15, 1977

Shouty falsetto. It might be disco if it were faster. I am not listening to this whole thing, because it will give me a headache.

Stevie Wonder – “I Wish” -- January 22, 1977

One of the greatest musical intros. It's a funk song about nostalgia, wishing for childhood again, and I normally hate that. But the music is amazing.

Rose Royce – “Car Wash” -- January 29, 1977

This was an intro song for a movie of the same name. I had no idea. I just thought someone decided to sing about working at a car wash randomly. The song is a little bit Motown, a little bit disco. It's fun.

Mary MacGregor – “Torn Between Two Lovers” -- February 5, 1977

It's slow, it's soppy, and it's about how she's cheating on "you" with someone else. She truly loves you, but she's not gonna stop seeing the other guy, whom she loves too. It sounds like she wants to try this whole poly thing she's heard about. But is the guy she's singing to gonna be okay with that? Probably not. Most people aren't. Maybe though. I don't care. For being about a subject that should be heartrending, this song sure is boring.

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band – “Blinded By The Light” -- February 19, 1977

This version made it to #1. Bruce Springsteen's original didn't even make it to the charts. This version is really bad -- it sounds like a recitation surrounded by goop, not a song. Bruce Springsteen's version is one of my favorite songs. I am going to sulk now.

Eagles – “New Kid In Town” -- February 26, 1977

Huh, an Eagles hit I've never heard before. This is about fame, how everyone loves you at first, then forgets you when the next big thing comes along. They try to shoehorn some stuff about romance in -- "Will she still love you when you're not around?" -- but it doesn't really flow. Also the song sounds like it should be playing in the background of a cabana. Fittingly for a song worried people will forget them, I have already forgotten this song.

Barbra Streisand – “Love Theme From A Star Is Born (Evergreen)” -- March 5, 1977

I listened to this song for 30 seconds. No more. I cannot stand Barbra Streisand. I don't think I'd like this song anyway, as it's glop, but maybe a different singer could have made it tolerable.

Daryl Hall & John Oates – “Rich Girl” -- March 26, 1977

Rich girls get picked on while rich boys are the ones who usually get away with everything. This song was actually originally about a rich guy, too. It would have been better. It's still good musically, but it misses the mark. Not that rich girls don't also get away with plenty, but compare and contrast what happened to Paris Hilton for her venial sins, versus the entire existence of Donald Trump.

ABBA – “Dancing Queen” -- April 9, 1977

ABBA was a good group. They were hated on, and now they're more likely to be exalted. They didn't deserve the hate (save it for the Bee Gees), but they're not the second coming or anything either. They were just a good, fun group. This song can be danced to, but it's a song more about dance than a dancing song. It's a rare song observing a young woman dancing while identifying with her, rather than lusting after her. "You can dance/ You can jive/ Having the time of your life." It's good.

David Soul – “Don’t Give Up On Us” -- April 16, 1977

The narrator did something really bad last night. Cheating? Worse? Now he's telling his lover not to "give up on us." As soft as the song is, "tell" is the word, not "ask." And he doesn't apologize once. Also, David Soul was a professional actor, but there's no worry in his voice; he's nothing but smooth and assured here. Blech.

Thelma Houston – “Don’t Leave Me This Way” -- April 23, 1977

It's disco with a large dose of Motown, or Motown with a large dose of disco. Either way, it works. Everything lines up with precision, and then Thelma Houston comes in over all of it with huge emotion. The contrast is sort of fascinating. Oh, and her huge emotion is that she wants sex. "Then come on, satisfy the need in me/ 'Cause only your good loving can set me free." She's not begging, but she's not exactly commanding either. It's really good.

Glen Campbell – “Southern Nights” -- April 30, 1977

It's Kidz Bop honky tonk. That's probably not fair; Glen Campbell grew up in a family of poor sharecroppers in Arkansas. But it's what I hear. It's happy clappy, and scrubbed clean of anything real.

Eagles – “Hotel California” -- May 7, 1977

Whatever you think this song is about, it's not about that. The Eagles wrote it with a mish-mash of stuff in mind, but mostly trying to be ambiguous. What that means is that whatever you think this song is about, it is about that. It's a choose your own adventure psychological horror song. I love it. It makes me happy in that way that good poetry and good music do -- and this is both.

Leo Sayer – “When I Need You” -- May 14, 1977

This song is cheese. Absolute, unadulterated cheese. But it's not bad cheese. It's a good solid cheddar. It's slow but not too slow, soft but not too soft, and it manages some interesting percussion. And Sayer sings like he means it. It's about missing his lover while he's on the road, and he imagines she's with him to get by. "When I need you/ I just close my eyes and I'm with you." It sounds kind of like a Broadway ballad. It's enjoyable.

Stevie Wonder – “Sir Duke” -- May 21, 1977

A song about Duke Ellington, which is a subject I approve of. Stevie Wonder also lists a few more legends, including one of my favorites: "And with a voice like Ella's ringing out/ There's no way the band can lose." It's a love song to music itself. It's sort of big band, sort of funk, and sort of Motown, and it works. The lyrics do get too repetitive for me near the end, though.

KC & The Sunshine Band – “I’m Your Boogie Man” -- June 11, 1977

It's a wordplay on the "bogie man" monster. But the boogie man wants to show up and give you whatever you want whenever you want however you want. Sexually. The song actually has more lyrics than most KC & The Sunshine Band songs, but it's still a song to dance to. Not to have sex to. But for dancing? Yep, it's good.

Fleetwood Mac – “Dreams” -- June 18, 1977

YAY! Okay so I have no interest in Fleetwood Mac without Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. But when they joined in 1975, Fleetwood Mac became truly great. And this song is from Rumours, which is their best album (forged out of a hell of a lot of intragroup pain), and written and sung by Stevie Nicks, who was their best artist. My parents played this record and their previous self-titled one all the time. I didn't fully understand the songs when I was a kid, but I loved them. As I grew old enough to understand them, I loved them more. And now I love them more than that. I can't analyze this song. I love it too much.

Marvin Gaye – “Got To Give It Up (Part 1)” -- June 25, 1977

At first, he was uncomfortable at parties and didn't want to dance. But then he loosened up enough to dance, pretty obviously as a way to pick up chicks. There's the horrible line "Let me step into your erotic zone." The music is experimental. Marvin Gaye's falsetto is fine, but it's still a falsetto the whole damn song. And there are people making party noises in the background the whole time. I find this song painful.

Bill Conti – “Gonna Fly Now (Theme From Rocky) -- July 2, 1977

You know this instrumental, you've heard it tons. It's a good movie theme -- I think. It's hard to say, when it's something that's been so often present in so many different contexts in my life.

Alan O’Day – “Undercover Angel” -- July 9, 1977

The undercover angel is a make believe woman from a sex dream. At the end of the song, he's telling "you" that you remind him of the undercover angel, so you must be meant to be with him. It's an extended "I've seen you in my dreams" pickup line. It's so dumb.

Shaun Cassidy – “Da Doo Ron Ron” -- July 16, 1977

This is an excruciatingly boring cover of The Crystals' classic 60s girl group song.

Barry Manilow – “Looks Like We Made It” -- July 23, 1977

He's singing to an ex. They both "made it" because they found other people. Until "Looks like we made it/ Or I thought so till today/ Until you were there everywhere." If they get back together it's not going to be easy, because they'll be leaving relationships that seem happy. I don't think they'll get back together -- besides, she may not feel anything for him any more. It's a more complex song than it sounds. And Barry Manilow sure can sing. I wish he'd gone with the jazz songs he preferred, but then he wouldn't have been hugely successful. He decided to pull the rhinestone cowboy trick, and I can't blame him. He did make the soppy 70s charts more tolerable than they would have otherwise been.

Andy Gibb – “I Just Want To Be Your Everything” -- July 30, 1977

For instance, without Barry Manilow, Andy Gibb would probably have had more hits. Gibb's voice is thin. If you're going to sing a line like "Oh, if I, if I stay here without you darlin' I will die," you need some power and drama behind it. This guy sounds like he's trying to sell kitchen tile. It's a relatively fast song, but the beat is somehow irritating too. Blech.

The Emotions – “Best Of My Love” -- August 20, 1977

It starts with a blast of horns, and then a blast of singing. Then the chorus is quieter than the rest, which is weird to me. I can't put my finger on why this song bores me, but it does.

Meco – “Star Wars Theme/Cantina Band” -- October 1, 1977

A disco mashup of the Star Wars theme with the cantina band theme. That happened. I love John Williams' music and I think he deserves credit for at least half of Star Wars' success. But I think this remix sounds extremely dumb. Someone slowed down the cantina band theme a couple years ago and that sounds very noir and cool. This doesn't.

Debby Boone – “You Light Up My Life” -- October 15, 1977

The person who wrote this song was completely and absolutely terrible. But Debby Boone isn't. She's a Christian singer, but seems to be one of the nice ones, not the wingnut fundie ones. Anyway, she wasn't a Christian singer in 1977 (though she was Christian). And she had a good voice. But she sings this song painfully slowly. It sounds like she comes in after where she's supposed to come in and then draws out the notes longer than she's supposed to. I don't know if that's her or the song itself. I sped up the song to 1.25 and it's a little more palatable, but it's still bad. It's a trudge. I don't feel lit up after this.

The Bee Gees – “How Deep Is Your Love” -- December 24, 1977

It's not falsetto, though Barry Gibb does go uncomfortably high some. But it's still very bad. It's a string of bland cliches over bland music. And the weird 70s male romance song entitlement: "And it's me you need to show/ How deep is your love?" Shut up.

BEST OF 1977 -- "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac  WORST OF 1977 -- "Star Wars Theme/Cantina Band" by Meco. People really would disco to anything, huh?

#billboard number ones

[mickeyisak]

black and white

So, love is complicated. When you go through what Travis has, love is complicated. So when he realises Emmett is falling in love with him, he knows he should stop. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t love Emmett, but he continues sleeping with him anyway.

(Or, the one where I fix the end of 3x16.)

read on ao3

Love is complicated. Everyone knew that. Travis knew that. He'd been in love more than a few times, and he knew what being in love felt like. It was the calm in the middle of a storm, it was warm blankets while snow (or rain, in Seattle's case) fell outside, it was the late morning sun falling over tan skin in bed, it was sacrifice. Every love is different, Travis learned throughout his life, with every passing partner.

The first time Travis fell in love, he was 19, in his freshman year of college, the first time he felt safe enough to truly be himself. He met a guy in his Intro to Psychology class, second semester. They sat next to each other on the first day, the entire lecture hall packed, every chair full. Throughout the semester the class got emptier, and more seats cleared out, but Travis still sat next to Matt, every Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Matt was cute, a senior in an entry level Psych class, getting his final Arts & Humanities credit out of the way. And he was terrible. He always told Travis how bad his exam scores were, how he never understood the things the professor was saying, or his own notes.

In mid February, a few weeks before midterms, Travis offered to help him study. Travis was surprisingly good at Psych, despite not really caring about the class itself. It was a Saturday night when Travis showed up outside Matt's apartment with his Psych book and notes in his backpack. They studied for a little while, Matt finding ways to scoot closer to Travis every few minutes. Eventually, they both ended up naked in Matt's bed. Travis thought he might've fallen in love when he woke up the next morning to muscular arms wrapped around him. They continued the same routine every few days, and surprisingly, somehow, Matt got a bit better at Psychology. Travis only told Matt his feelings when Matt was fast asleep, snoring and drooling into his pillow. They ended things when Matt graduated, and moved to Portland. Travis knew it was coming, and he moved on fairly easily, but it hurt.

Travis fell in love again the summer before his senior year of college, he studied all summer in Barcelona. He tried to perfect his Spanish, knowing it would help him when he became a firefighter. He met Alex at a gay bar in early June, not long after he arrived. They went home together that night, and almost every night after that. They both knew it would end when summer did, but Travis fell in love anyway. And he fell fast. By August, he was in love. He told Alex he loved him the last time they saw each other before Travis returned to the States. Alex said the same. They remained friends for a while, before losing touch. It was for the best, Travis isn’t good at remaining friends with people he’s loved. 

Travis met the love of his life at 23, fresh out of college, in the Fire Academy. Michael was, is, the best thing that ever happened to him. Travis doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but with Michael, he thinks that was the best way to describe it. He swore he was going to marry him, from the minute they met. Two years later, he was proved right. He and Michael were soulmates, he loved the men before, but his love with Michael was different. Gentle, soft, grounding. 

He and Michael weren’t perfect, technically. They fought, usually over stupid stuff. They weren’t perfect, but it was perfect. Travis was ready to spend the rest of his life cooking for his husband, because Michael was terrible, and couldn’t make anything other than Kraft Mac n’ Cheese and spaghetti with Prego sauce. Working with your spouse is supposedly forbidden, if you want the marriage to last. But Travis and Michael drove to work together every shift, slept side-by-side in the awful twin bunks at the station, ate breakfast at the beanery table, just as they would at home. Travis was the happiest he’d ever been in his life.

Until he wasn’t. 

Travis remembers every movement he made that day. Michael went out on his call, a fire in an apartment building. It was supposed to be easy, in and out, a grease fire. But the fire grew, and moved to the neighboring units. The building was built terribly, and the roof collapsed with Michael inside. The Captain knew the building wasn’t structurally sound, and he should’ve pulled the team out. 

Travis remembers the rig pulling back into the barn, and Michael not in it. He remembers the feeling of his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach. He remembers the Captain's voice telling him what happened, in the detached voice they were all trained to use when delivering bad news. He remembers the soft condolences at his line of duty funeral. He remembers sleeping in a empty, cold bed for the first time in six years. He remembers everything. Even if he wanted to forget. 

So, love is complicated. When you go through what Travis has, love is complicated. So when he realises Emmett is falling in love with him, he knows he should stop. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t love Emmett, but he continues sleeping with him anyway. To be fair, Emmett’s been saying he thinks he loves him since he was still with Alicia, but Travis knows he means it now.

Emmett tells him he thinks he’s in love for real the first time in bed. They finished having sex a while ago, then laid in bed together, their breaths slowing. Emmett must have thought Travis had fallen asleep, because he softly whispers the words into the dark. Travis knew he should of ended it right there, but he does genuinely like Emmett, and he’s selfish, so he doesn’t. 

It happens a second time in the showers of the station a few weeks later, after it’s announced that Emmett’s engaged to Alicia. Travis gets angry, or angrier, because he’s already angry that Emmett’s engaged to a woman he’s cheated on multiple times, and angry that he has feelings for someone that can do that to another person. So Travis tells him, he doesn’t love him or her, because you don’t do that to someone you love.

It’s brought up again when the team is partying on Dean’s houseboat. Emmett’s drunk, so is Travis, but Travis knows how to control his mouth when he’s intoxicated. They’re all having a good time, just partying and not worrying about work. They’re dancing together, Emmett is really cute like this; Bouncy, happy, drunk. It’s nice to see him being his true self. “I think I love you!” Emmett shouts over the pounding music, his eyes drooping with intoxication.

Travis just grabs his face and kisses him to shut him up. The way Emmett looks at him when they pull away tugs at his heart. “I can’t hear you!” he lies in return. 

The team decides to hang out again after the bomb call at Pac North. Emmett pulls Travis outside, and Travis knows what’s coming. Emmett takes a deep breath before speaking. “Look, I know I have a lot to learn about... pretty much everything.” he smiles. “But you got me here. And I owe you so much. I admire you so much. And... I’m so grateful for you, Travis.”

Travis speaks up. “No, you did this, Emmett.” He did, he was brave, Travis didn’t do anything, this was all Emmett.

“No, I couldn’t have done this without you.” Emmett interjects, and places a hand on Travis’ arm. “I love you.” he tells him. His blue eyes are shining, flicking in between Travis’ own. Emmett kisses him, and Travis lets him, kisses him back even, but he has to let him know, so he pulls away.

Emmett’s eyes are still looking at him with love, and it kills Travis that he’s about to ruin it. “I am really happy for you, you know. For how far you’ve come, for all this life that you have ahead of you. And I am really sorry...” he takes a deep breath. “That I don’t love you back. He watches Emmett’s face fall, watches his eyes go from shining with love to shining with tears. 

Emmett just nods and kisses him one last time, before walking away. “Yeah, me too.” 

Travis thinks for a split second, before speaking up. “Emmett.”

Emmett stops and turns. “What, Travis?” The way he looks at him hurts. He did that.

“I was married.” he starts, preparing himself for what he’s about to retell. Emmett’s brow furrows in confusion. Travis sits down in one of the chairs outside of the window. Emmett follows. “A while ago, I had a husband. Uh, his name was Michael. He... was... uh. Well, he was a terrible cook, a giant Seahawks fan... and he was a firefighter.” Emmett’s head snaps up and meets Travis’ eyes. “He was, is, the love of my life. And he... died, in the line of duty. About four years ago.”

“Travis, I- I didn’t know.”

“Saying ‘I love you’ isn’t that easy for me... because the last person I said it to, was... him. It’s been four years, and I’ve gotten used to the empty place in my bed where he used to be, and I took my ring off, but I don’t know if another person will ever compare to him. And... it takes time to recover from losing someone you love. A long time. And I’m not there yet. So, no, I don’t love you back.” Emmett drops his head. “But that doesn’t mean I never will. And it doesn’t mean I don’t still want to be with you.” He reaches over and grabs Emmett’s hands. “I like you, Emmett, a lot, actually. A lot more than I thought I would.” Emmett smiles a bit at that. “And just because I don’t love you now, doesn’t mean I want to end this. Okay?” Emmett nods. “So now it’s up to you, probie. Where do you want to go from here?” 

Emmett doesn’t say anything, just leans across the table in between their chairs and kisses him. Travis kisses him back, relieved. When they break apart, Emmett pulls Travis into a hug. Travis buries his face in Emmett’s neck, and they sit like that for awhile, Emmett running his fingers up and down Travis’ back, comforting him. Travis welcomes the serenity: Emmett’s cologne, or pheromones, or both, the sound of the waves crashing against the boat, the soft scratch of Emmett’s fingers tracing circles and shapes on his back.

And, yeah, he can fall in love with this.

#travis montgomery #emmett dixon #station 19 #tremmett #travis x emmett

[melyaliz]

Past loves and future babies pt. 2

Masterlist 

Fandom: Marvel / MCU 

Summary: Steve and Dixie meet and talk their future children and marriage and other awkward things you talk about when you meet your future baby mama/daddy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC 

Notes: This was originally going to be all when they trying to have sex but I thought it was cuter if it was more domestic. The next chapter SHOULD be them trying to have sex for the first time. But we will see how that goes. I can already tell these two are going to be awkward AF   

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“So this is it, Tony decided to move us to the two-bedroom apartment,” Steve said leading Dixie into the small apartment that was part of the compound. It had a very open floor plan with a wide bay window overlooking a lake that was behind the compound opposite the landing bay. 

Letting out a soft sigh Dixie looked around taking in the beautiful view. At least she could pretend she was on some sort of retreat.

A baby-making retreat. 

“I am loving all the light” she said smiling up at Steve. She had NO idea how to act around this man. When she had first got the information she needed to get impregnated by one of the hottest men who ever lived she was… causally optimistic but now that this was a very real possibility it was MUCH more awkward and stiff. 

Or that could have just been Steve Rogers. He was being just so formal, making sure to hold every door open for her. She felt like she was being led around by a butler. 

A very muscular hot butler, but a butler none the less. 

“This is our bedroom” 

Dixie peaked in looking around. A large king-size bed was in the middle of it with two dressers and what looked like a walk-in closet. Almost nothing else for decorations. Even the bed frame and dressers were a super plane. Much like the personality of the man showing it to her. 

“I didn’t want to decorate until you got here” Steve mumbled looking down at her trying to gauge her reaction as she walked in. For the first time showing SOME sort of reaction. It was like opening a window in a dusty room. For for the first time Dixie felt like she could breathe. 

Maybe he was just as nervous as she was. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” she said spinning around for a moment, “I’m pretty shit at decorating… Last place I was in I covered in pictures of cats dressed up in costumes just to annoy Mac” 

“Mac?” 

“My brother,” jumping onto the edge of the bed Dixie swung her legs back and forth for a moment. She hoped it made her look relaxed and perky and not a bundle of nerves. “Don’t worry I wasn’t seeing anyone before this.” 

“Oh,” 

“Were you?” 

Steve looked up, his deep blue eyes were a little sad. Reminding Dixie of a puppy had just been kicked. There was an unspoken store there. One Dixie wasn’t sure she wanted to poke. It looked like it was maybe filled with heartache. 

“No”

She laid her back on the fluffy white blanket looking up at the ceiling, “kind of hard to have a social life while saving the world from purple aliens?” 

“Something like that” the sound of his heavy boots walking across the room made her smile slightly. Her heart beating so fast in her chest she felt like it would rip right out of her chest. Her whole body thudding along with it as if the blood was rushing so fast through her vanes she made her whole body shake. 

Trying to shake off the anxiety that kept swelling up inside her, Dixie sat up studied him for a moment. Trying to make this beautiful man in front of her seem more… human. “Thanks for that by the way. You gave a million people back their whole lives.” 

He flashed her a weak smile. And in that moment Dixie realized something. Whatever it was that he was hurting from it was obviously not cured by bringing everyone back. That maybe he had lost something more from the battles. Something he couldn’t bring back. 

The thought made her heart hurt. 

“What about you? During the years…”

“It was just my brother and I. Before, during and after.” Dixie shrugged looking down at her chipped red nail polish. “It’s always just been Mac and me” For a moment she felt sick at the memory of packing up and saying goodbye to him. She had never felt that way before. Homesick. There had never been a home to miss, never had been a family she had to leave. 

Until now anyway. 

But she wasn’t about to dwell on it. He was only a phone call away. He wasn’t gone, just a bit further away. 

Jumping off the bed she walked toward the door ready to leave this sterile room and the weight it held. Steve beat her there opening it for her. Once again going back to his overly proper attitude. She paused in the doorway turning to him. Her dark brown eyes locking on his beautiful blue ones.

“You don’t have to do that you know.” 

“What?” 

“Be so formal, we’re going to have to see a lot of each other so you can… you know… let your hair down.” 

Turning she dashed toward the next bedroom quickly opening the door by herself before turning around to look at him. He looked back totally perplexed but when their eyes met he broke into a genuine smile. 

Finally. 

“So we have a big old baby-making bed and another bed in here… for what? Fights?” 

“I figured if you felt uncomfortable you had a place to sleep.”

“Yeah..” turning Dixie sighed biting her lip trying not to laugh, her heart still pounding nerves on edge, “I’m not going to lie, this is awkward AF.” 

“AF?” 

“Sorry As Fuck.” 

He chuckled nodding scratching the back of his head, “There is a lot we need to talk about like marriage and…”

“Woah! Woah, slow down” Dixie held up her hands her voice hitting an octave higher than intended. “I was thinking more knock me up we co-parent and then when it’s 18 we tell the kid they are basically the plot for every Anime ever and then go separate ways as good friends” 

Taking a slow step she took a deep breath trying to calm herself. Try to pull her composure. “Did you think this was going to be like a forever thing?” 

“Well we’re going to be making a life.” he said looking down at her, “That is a forever thing.” 

“Steve,” her voice trailed off for a moment, “we don’t owe each other anything really. Just need to need to make a baby and that’s it.” 

He studied her face, looking down at her with those deep blue eyes. Processing what she was trying to explain. His face was unreadable but so calm. There was something about it, about that moment. About that reality that suddenly made Dixie feel so cold. 

They really didn’t need to have any feelings for each other. 

He could go off after this and live his beautiful Steve Rogers life, find true love. Find that woman (or man) who could make him truly happy. Find true love. 

And she would go back to her life of being alone. 

The prospect of never finding love wasn’t any different than it had been the day before and the day before that but… for some reason. At that moment she felt like she might cry.  

But Dixie doesn’t cry. She doesn’t feel sorry for herself. She knew a long time ago that she was unlovable so it wasn’t new information. No reason to get choked up about it now. 

“You’ve... Had sex before right?” she asked, better get it out now. Know what she was getting in the bedroom. 

“Yes.” 

“Recently?”

“I don’t know…” he obviously didn’t want to admit to his future hook up about his past hookups.  

“Ohhh Cap getting down, man or woman?” 

“What!!? No, It’s been a while.” 

“Like a few months, a while or like since the 50’s a while?” There was that possibility, one she wasn’t about to disregard. No matter how hard it was to believe. 

“Does it matter?” 

Dixie shrugged, “Not really I guess as long as your clean. I got tested a few weeks back but then again the only guy I was sleeping with was married before the snap.” Slowly she walked back into the living room him following her. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” she paused a mysterious smile spreading across her face, “in fact, you basically are the reason we had to break up. When she came back I became the other woman. And have you seen me? I’m no one’s dirty secret.” motioning to her curvy body she shook her hips to emphasize the point. 

Steve chuckled sitting down next to her on the couch she followed him. The tension slowly melting around them. Both feeling much more relaxed, “I’m sorry?” 

“You’re forgiven.” 

It wasn’t supposed to work out anyway. 

“Are you, really ok with this?” Steve asked, mood shifting looking her over, “This is really a lot to ask someone.” Dixie shrugged thinking back to her life before this. Stealing tech with her brother from big companies. Robbing the rich to feed the poor. Thieves for hire looking our for themselves and only those they deemed worthy.

“I mean it’s weird but…” she paused looking away for a moment before flashing him a smile, “It’s not like I was doing anything before.” 

He gave her a soft smile studying her, “I just want you to know. There isn’t anyone else…” 

“There could be you know” Dixie mumbled there it was again. That cold hand over her heart, clenching tightly making it hurt in a way she didn’t want to dwell on, “You are totally free to date, see other people. I mean maybe after this” she motioned to her stomach, “But when they are born and stuff you are free to chase after love.”

At the word love Steve winced. Memories of Peggy kissing that dark-haired man. Standing in their beautiful white picket fence home. A picture-perfect life. The one he had wanted. The one he had been running toward without even realizing it until he was standing there realizing it could never be. 

“Hey” her voice was soft pulling him away from his musings. Her hand gently brushing over his before pulling away, hesitant unsure of her boundaries yet. “I’m serious. I’m under no assumptions that we will be anything… well maybe friends?” at her last words she held up her hand flashing him a smile. He looked down at her hand and took it. 

It was large and warm over hers. “I would love to be your friend” 

It was a start. It was a promise. It was a rule. 

Pulling him forward Dixie wrapped her arms his neck giving him a large warm hug. As she felt his own arms wrap themselves around her Dixie chanted it in her head as a mantra.

“Friends” 

Building a wall around her heart. Using the word like barbed wire to keep all those little butterflies that were trying to squeeze their way through away. Ripping at their delicate wings until she was numb to it. Protected from any sign of hurt. 

Pulling away they both looked at each other. Studying the other’s reaction. Then slowly, hesitantly Steve placed those warm large hands on the back of her head slowly pulling her slightly toward him, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” she muttered her eyes fluttering slightly as he closed the gap between them. Pushing at those walls she was trying to build to thickly around herself. He didn’t mean it. He wasn’t trying to, it was her own girlish tendencies. Her flaws she needed to work on. 

She was trying too hard and it showed. Their kiss stiff, awkward, and uncomfortable. Steve pulled away looking just how she felt and she knew she had messed up. They still needed to have sex at some point and what were they supposed to do if they couldn’t even kiss. 

This was her fault and she needed to fix it. 

“That was awful” she giggled her nerves bubbling up and spilling. “Kiss me again” 

“Ok” his smile lopsided as he leaned forward again. 

This time she was ready, wrapping her arms around his neck deepening it. Enjoying him, focusing on how he tasted and felt. Focusing on the carnal feelings around the intimate gesture and not her own emotions. 

He tasted clean, warm. In a way, he remained her of milky tea. Comforting and soothing. Something she would cuddle up with on a cold day. Wrap herself in like her favorite blanket. 

His arms around her waist gripped her slightly tighter, hesitantly as she pressed a little further. Her tounge flicking over his lip wanting to taste more. Wanting to know just how Captain America tasted.  

And then his phone dinged. It was like an arrow through them both. Pulling them back to reality. Swallowing thickly he turned slightly as she pulled away. 

“Anything important?” 

“No” he mumbled, “Just Bucky wanting to see if we wanted to join the rest of them for dinner. I guess Tony was going to order Chinese.” 

“UHG” Dixie’s eyes rolled back in her head as if she was having an orgasm, “Food sounds so amazing.” 

Steve chuckled, he was starting to really like this woman. She was so open and silly. Confident in who she was and what was going on. Her attitude was infectious and put him at ease. “I’ll let them know to add two more.” 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad he had thought. 

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