#hell on earth. so of course it's one of the most memorable flash games for me and i remember replaying it a bunch of times

[flash-from-the-past]

Hapland

#hapland #flash #fuck this game. #not only was it one of those point and click game where the only way to figure out anything is trial and error #it was very easy to screw up #and the game wouldn't tell you. you would just have to realize it's time to hit start over. #also at the end there was a timed section with a dog chasing a stickman #and if you didn't do it right you had to play all over again. #hell on earth. so of course it's one of the most memorable flash games for me and i remember replaying it a bunch of times #just to click random shit and never actually finish

[yandere-society]

Ih-pif-uh-nee

Synopsis: After successfully finding matches for humans for a millennia, Cupid grows irritated when he repeatedly fails to find YN’s soulmate. He decides to go undercover and disguise himself as a normal human to attempt to get closer to her, only to become convinced that HE is the mate he’s been searching for all along.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Admin: @chimchimsauce​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, stallking

Cupid is on cloud nine, staring up into the painted sky, the soft coldness of a cloud caressing his large, folded wings. As the sun slowly begins to sink, the god of love rolls onto his stomach, dragging his finger through a passing cloud.

Another day, another match made in heaven. Satisfaction warms Cupid’s heart as he thinks of the young couple he recently paired up - a rich girl from a very influential family and a poor young man struggling to put himself through college. Pairings like that have always been Cupid’s favorite. Unlikely love always blooms faster, roots deeper into the lives of those he strikes with his arrows.

As the sun falls completely beneath the Earth and the moon rises to shine, Cupid sits up, reaching into the sky to pluck a falling star from above. The star shines brightly in his cupped hands, glowing before Cupid cracks it open like an Easter egg to reveal his latest assignment.

While the god is ultimately in control of his matches, every so often, Aphrodite will send tell him of someone special, someone who will require a bit more than a few well-timed coincidental meetings and an arrow to the chest. His mother’s always been a bit of a know it all and a meddler, so it’s not terribly unusual for her to push her own agenda through her son.

Cupid sighs. It’s nearing Valentine’s Day, so hopefully, he’ll have a bit more luck with this assignment than he did with the last one. Last time it took Cupid a fortnight to get the seed of love planted deep enough between a cynical old man and the lady he’d worked with for over two decades. But still, Cupid’s never been unable to make a spark between two people, not even when he was younger and would shoot arrows at random people just for fun.

Of course, he’s matured significantly since then. He doesn’t play such games anymore.

Reading the note he pulls from the star, Cupid reads the name.

YN LN

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the name. He’s heard it before, used by other people throughout the years. The photograph he’s been given also does not stir anything in him. He wonders briefly what his mother is planning, sending him this assignment without any context. Usually, she’ll at least send some background information on the person and who she wants them to end up with, but there’s nothing else in the star but her name and photo.

Cupid seals the star back, tossing it as far into the sky as he can, letting it return to orbit. He places the photograph into the folds of his angelic garment, standing up and stepping off of the cloud, plummeting towards the Earth’s surface.

He might as well get started now.

Cupid lands gently on a large hill overlooking a sleepy college town, bare feet touching the soft grass. He disappears into the night as he descends upon the town, slipping between dimensions as only gods can do.

It practically takes him no time at all to locate her, YN studying diligently at a library that looks as old as Cupid himself is. Quietly, he lets his presence rest beside her, eyes going over her form, trying to figure out what’s so special about her that she caught his mother’s attention. She’s pretty enough for a human but her face isn’t anything you’d double take on. She almost seems . . . plain.

Cupid can’t help but be a little disappointed. He’d hoped this assignment would be interesting, but it seems like it’ll end up being a bore after all. He’s half tempted to just shoot her and be done with it, but he has a feeling his mother won’t be pleased with him if he does that.

Deciding to give this assignment his all (if for no other reason than not having to put up with one of his mom’s hissy fits) Cupid spends the next few days trailing YN, figuring out her habits, likes, and dislikes. He even sets up a few matches - the guy in her class, one of her pretty friends, a worker in the local grocery store - but to no avail.

Despite shooting the girl with three arrows, not even a lick of love sparks within her. YN just continues her monotonous life, boring the hell out of Cupid.

After an entire week of this, Cupid grows impatient and decides to handle this matter even more personally.

Transforming into human form, Cupid feels the elements against his skin for the first time since . . . he shakes that thought out of his head. A little bit of persuasion is all it takes to get him a new identity and set up at a small bed and breakfast just a few minutes’ walk from YN’s dorm.

He has it all planned perfectly. He’ll run into her at the coffee shop she works part-time at and befriend her, using their time together to find her perfect match. He’s never had to put in this much effort before.

But as soon as Cupid walks into the coffee shop, the little bell over the door rings and the two of them lock eyes, the god’s breath catching in his throat. She smiles at him, the very first time she’s smiled since he’s been trailing her.

Something pulls at his subconscious, just out of reach. Whatever it is is familiar, comforting to him. He doesn’t realize that he’s staring until she clears her throat uncomfortably.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“I . . . just a coffee, please. Black,” he says once he’s regained a bit of his sense.

“Sure thing. What name would you like me to put it under?” YN asks, already beginning to create the drink.

“Jimin,” he says before he can stop himself, his true name tumbling out between his lips.

Because she’s faced away from him, YN doesn’t notice the shocked look on Jimin’s face. His hand covering his mouth. He can’t believe he said that!

The name ‘Jimin’ was given to him over a thousand years ago, by someone he can’t remember. His mother forbade him from using it and he’s gone by Cupid ever since. So why . . .

“Your total is $3.50. Will that be all for you today?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, rummaging through his pockets to pull out some money he’d manifested earlier that day.

The coffee shop is empty besides the two of them, Jimin choosing to sit by the glass storefront while YN hums quietly to herself, wiping down the counters and tidying up. Soon though, it becomes apparent through his side-eyed watch that she’s out of things to do, just sort of idling around. It’s only then that he god of love remembers that he’s on a mission.

“So uh,” he speaks up, the coffee cup warming his hands, “I’m new in town and I was wondering if you knew of what all there is to do?”

Jimin hates how unconfident he sounds. It’s so unlike him.

“Well,” she begins, grateful for a distraction, “There isn’t all that much to do. It is a rather small town after all.”

“Surely there must be something,” Jimin pushes, really eager to speak with her.

“Hm,” she begins, “There’s actually this very pretty underground lake. You can only see it once every couple of weeks because the cave it’s in is usually flooded - it rains here a lot by the way - but it’s absolutely gorgeous,”

“I’ll have to go sometime,”

Over the course of that singular trip to the coffee shop, Cupid completely forgets that YN is supposed to be an assignment. He becomes completely and utterly enthralled with her and her boring little life. The gods always have something going on, some drama or scandal or fight. It’s so nice just to be able to relax with someone - to actually become close to someone. Jimin sees YN every day. First, he just stops by to get a morning coffee, but soon enough he ends up walking her home after her shift ends and helping her study at the library.

Every expression of hers he has memorized. He lies awake at night and thinks about her, anxious to spend time with her again. It consumes his entire being, is his motivation for his every decision.

Until . . .

Until . . .

Until two months later, when the most gorgeous woman alive is at his doorstep. His mother catches the attention of everyone who walks by, sending one gentleman a flirtatious wink and causing him to walk into a pole.

“What are you doing here, Mother?” Jimin asks sharply, less than thrilled to see her.

“Checking on you,” she says, eyeing him up and down with a hand on her curved hip, “It seems you’ve gotten rather . . . distracted.”

Jimin bristles, growing visibly upset.

“I assigned you to find this girl a mate, not to fall for her,” Aphrodite says, her tone leaving no room for debate.

“I’m not falling for her,” Jimin hisses through his teeth, the lie obvious even to himself.

“You have one more week,” she threatens, “Or else.”

She doesn’t need to elaborate. Jimin knows his mother well enough to know whatever she has planned is awful.

As soon as she leaves, the god has an anger fit, trashing the small rented room he moved into just three weeks ago. He has to see her - he has to go be with YN. She’s the only thing that can calm him down enough for him to make a gameplan.

But as Jimin hurriedly makes his way to her house, he stops when he sees someone - an unfamiliar man - sitting on one of the dorm porch swings and chatting with her. The stranger looks up briefly, catching eyes with Jimin.

“Apollo,” Jimin curses, vision turning red from how pissed off he is.

Before YN can even blink, Jimin has Apollo by the throat, ignoring YN’s panicked cries.

“Stay away from her,” Jimin warms, nails digging into the other god’s skin, “You run and tell my mother to keep her nose out of my business. I’m done doing her dirty work for her.”

He tosses Apollo to the ground, unaware that he’s partially revealed his true form to the terrified young woman behind him. Apollo flashes away, clutching his own throat, fear in his eyes.

When Jimin finally turns towards YN, she’s petrified, a scream caught in her throat.

What’s going on? What had just happened?

“Oh, baby, no, don’t be worried,” Jimin coos, taking YN into his arms.

He doesn’t care that she’s as stiff as a board, immobilized by fear.

“The bad people are gone now. It’s just us, okay. You don’t have to be worried.”

His overly calm tone causes YN to snap out of her reverie, trying to pull away from the man she thought was a friend - the man she thought was human.

“I’m in love with you, YN,” he says, ignoring her attempts to flee and crushing her to his chest like a small child, “I didn’t think I could fall in love, but here I am. I think about you every waking moment, desperate to be around you, desperate to touch you. You feel it too, don’t you, YN?” Jimin says, a crazed look glossing his eyes.

Tears well up in YN’s eyes as she looks at him and realizes what danger she’s in.

“I know you do,” Jimin says, falsely taking her silence for agreement, “Kiss me.”

It’s a command, one she’s much too afraid to ignore. Trembling, Yn shakily presses her lips to his, unaware of the visions she’s just spawned in his head.

All at once, his memories come back to him, hitting the god-like a pile of bricks. He pulls back from her only briefly to wipe her tears away before recapturing her lips in a deeper kiss, never wanting to be parted from her again.

Psyche. His Psyche. The one he’d fallen in love with all those millennia ago, only to be ripped apart when his own mother killed her and their unborn child. No wonder she felt so familiar, so comforting. YN is his soulmate, no one else’s.

He wipes away every one of her continuously falling tears, moving to kiss her forehead.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’re going to be together for the rest of eternity . . . right after I kill my mother.”

#yandere #yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere jimin #jimin x reader #bts angst #soft yandere

[dbzebra]

☕️ OH YKNOW WHAT AT THAT NOTE? Talk about that dbs broly movie cuz yknow. That’s a hot topic of the ages that folk feel particularly really strongly about

ooooh ive been waiting for this one. We watched this together on discord so you know my general feelings but Im happy i got this ask lol.

putting this under read more cause it gets long 

The new movie that everyone seems to love and adore.... that I dont. It was a pretty middle of the ground, meh overrated af movie. Not bad, just nothing special. I enjoyed watching it sure, but not something I have an inkling to return to anytime soon if ever. It was just ‘there’ for me. 

First, I’ll say the good stuff. The visuals looked really pretty. Nobody was THAT out of character of the existing cast (save for the ending), which i feel weird to have to even mention it as a positive, but nothing really stood out to me as a defining moment for the little cast we had besides Goku’s “youre not a bad guy, i can tell” or w/e. SUPER SAIYAN 1 IS STILL GOAT. It looked soooo good in this movie i wish we couldve kept it the whole time instead of Blue. But i will say, Blue looked much better in this movie than the series. The darker-blue with the lighter blue eyes was a nice change from instead of the ugly bluish-green the series did. Also the aura looked better. Backgrounds like the ice area and even Planet Vegeta were amazing. Action was great too. little Bulla was cute. The OST i liked (the chanting really grew on me) and Blizzard is a banger i love that song. Oh and the aritisic license they took for the fusion scene with the reds and blues spiraling together was great

Anyway thats all the positives I have lmaoo

This film includes Minus and I already went in depth on why I hate Minus with a passion and why it’s the worst thing to come out of modern Dragon so yeah moving on. But the fact that they devoted screentime to Gokus backstory which ultimately served no purpose to the story of the film and couldve been used more valuably elsewhere. 

I said the action was good, and it was, but it almost too good. At times it was so fast to tell that was going on and really lessened the impact for me. Like when they went into the other dimension or whatever, Gogeta went blue and Broly went LSSJ (idc if the name is different name, itll always be legendary SSJ to me lmao) so ast it was a blink and you miss it moment. like what? those moments shouldve been given even a little bit of focus. 

Next the cast. Goku and Vegeta. AGAIN. snorefest. no Gohan, Piccolo is just there to show them the fusion, Goten and Trunks are still kids and look like babies (and Pilaf gang is with them which is another can of worms), no Android 17, who the series established as one of the top 4 fighters on Earth. 

Do we get any of that? Nope. Just the two Blue and Bluer fucking again and again I. dont. care. anymore. Their dynamic is so boring and played out id rather watch paint dry. It was fun in Buu Saga, hell it was even fun in GT, but DBS constantly forcing this dynamic and Vegeta as the second Main Character needs to fucking STOOOP. Toei and Toriyama has no idea how to further Vegeta’s character because theyre stuck in this infinite loop. 

Vegeta doesnt want to help Goku, he mentions Bulma and/or Trunks, Vegeta blushes, and then he decides to help. THAT HAPPENED LIKE SIX TIMES IN DBS ALONE. It happened in Buu saga as well, but it organically worked cause it was the first time but Bulma and Trunks were ALREADY DEAD/ABSORBED. The look on his face wasnt blushy or pouting for a gag, dude was legit shocked. I rag on Vegeta but he had some legit great moments in the early arcs and later parts of Buu Saga. Anyway im off track. They repeat that same exact character moment OVER AND OVER. cant tell you how many times we had “my Bulma, my bulla, my Trunks, my cabba” in the Tournament of Power alone, and this movie is no different.

DO SOMETHING ELSE FFS

Then we have Broly. ohhhhhh boooy Broly. if you can even call this version of him Broly. His backstory is kinda the same as original movie 8/Broly LSSJ, but its more tragic becuase according to most fans, if youre background is a sobstory, that equals better character. NO. sure it could, but that trope was so worn out so long ago I hate it. “waaa his life was bad, hes not a bad guy” bruh i dont care thats not Broly. just make an OC if you wanna do that. but nope. gotta use the marketing! (More on that later)

People like to criticize Z Broly as “he hates Goku cause he cried” or “all he says is Kakarot” which both are false. On the first point, Broly is a psychopath. He was stabbed as an infant and left to die along with Paragus cause he was too powerful. Then that same day Planet Vegeta explodes practically on top of them. The rest of his life hes basically either being controlled or on a rampage. So that one moment of peace is “ruined” by Goku in a sense cause he subconsciously associates that with Goku. On the second point, Broly was already mentally unstable and then nearly dying, getting caught in the explosion of a SECOND PLANET and then being frozen for seven years will fuck anyone up in the head. Z Broly in the original movie was sadistic af and he had a lot of memorable moments and lines that werent just screaming Kakarot, that Second Coming made him infamous for. 

New Broly is legit a man-baby. People talk about old Broly having no personality and this new version having a deep character, but I dont see it. He acts like a child when hes with Cheelai and Lemo and then once the fighting starts he doesnt say a single word but yell. SOUND FAMILIAR?? But he gets a pass because the canon police says so right??? fuck off. New Broly is boring. Im tired of trying to make the Saiyans into ThEyRe noT aLl BaD sEe The SaIyAns ArE AcTuAlLy GoOd!!!11111 ugh i hate it. keep Broly a psycho and keep Bardock a prick. even that guy that went with Buzz Lightyear I mean Paragus was a sweet guy who couldnt fight because of course he was. At least they kept Paragus being a prick when he killed him. Tho his death was lame. 

Cheelai’s overrated af. Shes just green bulma lmao. and the fact that they included the “big soft-spoken man gets mad and saves girl from drunk lowkey-rapey pervert” trope just had me roll my eyes like dude stop. Lemo was fine? Nothing against him but didnt do much for me either.

FUCK. FREEZA. i went over this one before too so ill be quick with this as well. I hate hate hate the fact that they brought him back not once but twice in DBS, but even worse that they left him alive to do whatever tf he wants including going back to mass murdering people and expanding his army again. Goku and Vegeta just LET HIM LIVE. Why tf did they go all out and attack Broly, but not Freeza? when one of them was fighting Broly th other easily could have taken out freeza but nope we need a token villain like Joker or Skeletor cause unoriginality. Even at the end, Gogeta does a full power blast to wipe Broly tf out, but when Freeza tries to kill Cheelai and Lemo (two innocent people, feelings on them aside) Gogeta basically just shakes his finger like nuh-uh! dont do that! and then he flies off. Just let this mfer die already im sick of seeing his ass. FUCK I HATE IT SO MUCH GFGFFGFGFGF

Lastly this movie is legitimately Dragon Ball Fanservice The Movie. 

Gogeta vs Broly, which the games have been doing since fucking 2003, is the main point of this film. Theres no originality whatsoever. Minus is discount Father of Goku special, and then its a mashup of Broly LSSJ and Fusion Reborn (both of which are superior movies imo). This creatively banrkupt shell of a franchise cant think of anything new, so they legit remake an old movie, through in fusions because that sells like hotcakes, and make the animation pretty because thats all that matters.

Imo, this movie, like 99% of Super, is all flash and flair but no substance at all. At least this movie looked nice. unlike the show. 

ok thats all i got lmao

#this got really long lol #longer than i intended #but thought of more stuff as i went #asks #cozymochi

[que-pasa-calabasa]

que-pasa-calabasa’s Good Omens fic rec masterpost

In no particular order, except for the fact that I’m putting all the PWP (or close approximations thereof) together at the bottom. Some will be not be show-canon compliant as they predate the release. Summaries are copy-pasted from the ao3 summary; italics are my own commentary added. 

is it that we are dying? (5k, G): England, 1349, the middle of the 14th century. The black death rages, and Aziraphale has to help a dying demon escape from a church. Sad and sweet, completely indulgent hurt/comfort

Don’t Play With Holy Water (30k, M): When the Bentley goes missing, Crowley isn't sure what to make of it. Unbeknownst to him, a certain lurking demon is waiting to settle an old score... A wild ride full of peril and body-swapping, Aziraphale is a BAMF

Mirror, Mirror (44k, T): Adam, Eve, and Crawly flee Eden through the Western Gate, and it turns out that that simple decision makes all the difference in the world... Parallel-universe Crowley is hilariously evil, regular-degular Crowley takes a turn as the bad-ass

with my mind on my money (and my money on my mind) (3k, T): Mr. Fell was as eccentric as Tim might expect a rare book dealer with a connoisseur's knowledge of cannabis strains to be, and he couldn't help being fond of him. Aziraphale and Crowley do weed, what more is there to say?

In which Adam challenges Crowley to a drinking contest and it is a terrible idea (1k, T): It is a rather foolish thing to set a bet with the devil, or even with a devil, unless you have an ace—or better yet, all the aces in the deck—up your sleeve.But if you are the Antichrist, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is Called Dragon, Spawn of Satan, etc., etc., well…you were born with all the aces up your sleeve, and the only admonishment you need is “Have fun, kiddo, and don’t screw him over too hard.”  Pure humor, entertaining drunk!Crowley

Game Over, Insert Coin (14k, M): An Account of Certain Events occurring in the Groundhog Day AU no one asked for, in strict accordance as shall be shewn with Narrative Interference of an (Un)predictable Nature for the Sleepless Reader. Exactly what it says on the tin, all your normal Groundhog Day AU angst

A Matter of Convenience (12k, T): “You know,” Crowley rasped as he struggled to scrape himself off the ground, “I can't shake the feeling that there must be an easier way to go about this.”A possible take on the birth of the Arrangement. There’s some sadness, some historical fun, and some Hurt Boys (tm)

Rarefied Air (3k, E): Earth is getting older, news is getting worse, and an angel has to go to extreme heights to get any peace and quiet at all. But as close as you can get to Heaven, you're still never far from Hell. (Hell hasn't frozen. Crowley nearly has.) There’s explicit sex in this but it’s so much more than PWP

Dark and Stormy Night (or Never Underestimate an Angel) (5k, T): “Hmph. I suppose you think that, just because I’m an angel, that I’m too tame to read a scary story properly?” Silly and cute, Crowley and Aziraphale are weird godfathers to the Them

The Curse of Horemheb (66k, M): “The locals call her Bibân el Molûk, but she’s better known as the Valley of the Kings.”Or: Aziraphale and Crowley run into each other in Luxor in 1908 and find themselves confronted with the consequences of actions three thousand years old. Sprawling multi-era adventure with some good fun tropes

off the record (8k, T): Crowley has to submit a biannual report, but there are some things that he often neglects to include. Cute, sweet almost-meta on the natures of Crowley and Aziraphale

A Sticker Situation (1k, G): Everyone's favorite angel and demon are innocently driving past a gas station when Crowley notices a giveaway that he absolutely must participate in. Crowley is a huge James Bond nerd

Under the Apple Tree (6k, T): Crowley finds himself in a tight spot, and Aziraphale dares to hope his help could turn into something more. Devastating, if you like tragic hurt/comfort this is the one for you

Essentially Social Chameleons (2k, G): In short, Aziraphale and Crowley are not as good at blending in with mortals as they think they are. There are better places to discover this than Newton and Anathema's baby's christening, but, well, we're here now. Very silly, one my my favorite genres (humans are confused by Crowley and Aziraphale)

the bucket list (13k, E): There was a certain look that Aziraphale wore occasionally—a pinched sort of moue that looked like he’d just taken a very large mouthful of cinnamon—which meant he thought Crowley was being ridiculous. He had put it on.“Hang on,” he had said. “You want us to do human things?” *If you're going to go native, you might as well go all the way. Crowley and Aziraphale decide to try some fun human things, there’s some obvious smut but it’s not what it’s really about

Milton Was Right (1k, T): Adam knows where most babies come from, but is pretty sure that doesn't apply to him. Aziraphale and Crowley show their usual levels of competence in explaining where antichrists come from. Just...extremely funny

it's the light (it's the obstacle that casts it) (5k, T): It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale.Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is. Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho. One of my favorites

HERE BE SMUT

The One in Which Crowley Discovers Wanking (5k, E): It began, like most memorable events in Crowley’s life did, with a bad decision; like most bad decisions, it involved poor impulse control and copious amounts of alcohol. The Antichrist had been born, and he put on lipstick and kitten heels to deal with it, but knew that the clock was ticking, and at times when time was slipping away, it helped to hold onto a bottle of gin. Also what it says on the tin, Crowley jacks off while Aziraphale sort of helps

Come Fuck Me Hips (5k, E): Crowley has had a fantasy about Aziraphale for centuries now. Too bad the angel would never take him up on it. Except, as it turns out, he absolutely would. Crowley’s a bottom and Aziraphale is a service top, this is pretty much the only dynamic I accept

I Was Born to Love You (28k, E): Crowley shows up to take Aziraphale to lunch, and for the first time in quite a good while, he flashes just a bit of ankle. And that's how it all begins. Fun banter, hot sex

The Mysteries of Ladies’ Knickers (2k, E): Somewhere in the fall of 1963, Aziraphale was issued a new body. Later, he was never entirely sure if the mix-up following the assignment of its replacement was intentional or purely accidental. He had his suspicions. Crowley was not sure how to feel about it. It’s hot, Aziraphale is a woman temporarily, there’s sex, you know the drill

Love Hath Made Thee a Tame Snake (3k, E): He was the bloody Serpent of Eden, and he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of flagrant trespassing. Kind of borderline fluff/smut, the first half is mostly cute snake!Crowley

Killer Queen (2k, E): In hindsight, Crowley reflected, it was probably not one of his best or brightest ideas to introduce a six-thousand-year-old virgin to the subtle and intricate matters of sexual intercourse. Things could, frankly speaking, get a little out of hand. (Or, Aziraphale has a sexual awakening.) Oh God, hilarious and sexy, Aziraphale treats sex like food and wants to try aLL THE THINGS

Tryst on a Hot Church Roof (2k, E): Crowley has some fantasies. Aziraphale encourages him to explore them and not to be embarrassed. Neither of them can really take roleplay seriously but they still have a good time. Those nerds trying to sexily roleplay and failing is one of my fav tropes

#good omens #fic rec

[bxebxee]

Pine

Note: Every time I hear Jungkook talk about the height of his “ideal” girl, I lose three years of my life. This is for @fairyguks who is an angel and more. It was originally supposed to be a full fic that was Something Else and about 80% less pretentious. For readers who live in an area without winter (1) I envy you, and (2) suspend all climate-related disbelief and picture yourself neck-deep in a Christmas card.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ish), feat. Namjoon Genre: Angst-ish, Romance-ish, college au Warnings: no external editing (rip) Word Count: 3363 Rating: I for Ish (T/PG-13)

***

“There now comes up a deafening crash to these rocks advertising you that even trees do not die without a groan. It rushes to embrace the earth, and mingle its elements with the dust. And now all is still once more and forever, both to eye and ear.”

--Henry David Thoreau

***

“You don’t really like me, do you?”

Your heart sinks when you look at Namjoon’s face when he catches you spying on Jungkook for the fifth time out of the corner of your eye. The handsome upperclassman pins you with a smile, and you feel like the worst human being on the planet.

Jungkook had just rolled up his sleeves to wipe down a few messy tables, effectively undoing any semblance of Chill you pretended to possess. His arms never failed to make you weak.

“I do like you,” you reply to Namjoon, wincing because it sounds like a lie even though it’s the truth. “But it’s just…” You pause, mouth partially open like a dumb fish as you search your mind for the right word. Complicated? Weird? Fucked Up? Nothing seems to fit.

Namjoon takes pity on you. If the “but” didn’t give you away, the “just” did. In his limited experience, girls only used the word “just” when they wanted to soften the blow of a rejection.

“I know you do like me, but you don’t like me.” There is a big difference.

But this is only a first date, and Namjoon is not too pressed to see you stewing over unresolved angst concerning your pretty-boy ex-boyfriend. Jungkook is objectively terrific, three for three when it came to looks, smarts, and personality. He’s heard bits and pieces from the grapevine, and he knows the breakup is still recent. Given all those things, it’s more than understandable why you would choose to have frozen yogurt in the middle of a freezing-cold winter if it meant rubbing it in your ex’s face that you’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Namjoon is somewhat flattered to be chosen as the bait for Jungkook’s benefit, but realistically he knows you probably only picked him for his height.

“You’re cold,” he comments, taking your hand and feeling your much smaller palm act as an ice cube. “Froyo wasn’t the best idea. A brave choice, but not exactly seasonal.”

“I’m really sorry,” you sigh, giving up and putting up the banner of mea culpa (mea maxima culpa). “Please don’t hate me.”

Namjoon lets go of your hand to reach out to your face, pushing your chin up to look at him. “Don’t look down,” he tells you. “You did nothing wrong.”

If you were a normal girl with a normal heart, you would have probably fell for Namjoon right then and there. Because Namjoon is looking at you like you always wished Jungkook would; he looks wise and hot and every bit like an understanding boyfriend who loves the fuck out of you.

“You are a glutton for pain,” Namjoon continues with a meaningful glance at the counter where Jungkook’s back was turned, “but keep your head up.”

This date ranks as a solid four in the Top Ten Most Mortifying Mating Rituals you’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Namjoon being cool about your attempt at making Jungkook jealous only exacerbates the embarrassment you feel for being petty.

“Thanks.” Your throat feels woolly from you trying not to cry in frustration. That, or you’re getting sick.

The froyo-for-two date special that was shared with Namjoon is thrown away after it melts into a chaotic sea of chocolate and vanilla swirls. Your stomach churns as Namjoon continues his assault on your conscious by shoveling burning coals of kindness on your dumbass head. He takes your hand as the two of you exit, even slowing his steps as you pass Jungkook on the way out.

“Please come again,” Jungkook speaks up in rote, by-the-book cheerfulness. His eyes and mouth are carved out into an easy smile as he looks at you directly, pointedly. You never know exactly what Jungkook is thinking, but right now he seems to be communicating to you through psychic waves that he doesn’t give a shit who you’re with.

“Maybe in the spring semester,” Namjoon chuckles. (“Maybe Never!” you want to scream.)

And because you have no self-control or sense of self-preservation, you let slip a soft, “Bye Jungkook” before you can help it. Namjoon tugs on your hand, and you miss the chance to hear Jungkook’s response when the two of you are out the door in a flash.

“Bye Jungkook?” Namjoon repeats once you leave the store, his hand is still holding yours. “Bye Jungkook?!” The winter air is gust of Major Suck, and it gives you a good reason to tug your coat up to cover the bottom half of your face. “You have it bad.”

If Namjoon pitied you in the store, he pities you more now, your pathetic form looking slumped, small, and frozen as you trudge alongside him through the slush. He heads to the nearest coffee shop with you in tow. You have to trot in rapid steps to keep up, but the cold weather and self-pity keep you from questioning where he’s taking you. The christmasy scent of hazelnuts and cinnamon blended over roasted coffee overwhelms you when he opens the door, and as soon as you step in, the warmth makes your nose run.

Namjoon shoots down the half-hearted offer of paying for your own coffee as you wait on the long line, the two of you defrosting gently.

“You’re sad, and I can do this much,” he shushes you. “What d’you want?”

“Something bitter and hot,” you answer. You don’t even drink coffee.

He gets you something frothy, creamy, and sweet with just enough coffee added in for the base note. The cup is warm enough to hold comfortably in your hands as a miniature, portable heater.

“Thank you.” It’s a little bit perfect of him to do this, and your heart speeds up at the feeling of his hand on your middle back guiding you through the crowded store towards one of the empty tables near the windows.

There is a moment, a brief one, where things go absolutely quiet in your head as you concentrate with all your might on the man standing behind you to memorize the shape of his chin and jaw, his neckline and shoulders. You have to look up at him since he towers several heads over you. Namjoon stares straight ahead, alert to his surroundings as he steers you effortlessly through the crowd. The unconscious and automatic manner in which he takes charge, even in the smallest of things, sets your heart towards desire, and Namjoon inexplicably looks like he’s on the cusp of resplendency. 

In the grand scheme of things, this is an unimportant moment of a less-than-spectacular day that you’ll probably forget in a few hours. And the memory of this feeling, this unwarranted blooming of eros will be lost in the gray matter of emotions occupied with Jungkook.

“Watch your step,” Namjoon says, and the moment is gone. Your heart settles down as soon as you look away to pay attention to where you’re going, and when you take another glance back at Namjoon, he looks normal again.

You feel fortunate to have nabbed the cozy table for two as the store becomes progressively crowded. Namjoon stares at you over his coffee cup, the look in his eyes blatant but not at all predatory. He’s only thinking, and you happen to be in his line of sight. There is of course the residual discomfort of knowing that this was supposed to be a date, but it’s long since fizzled out. You sip your drink slowly because the guilt of using him and being found out hasn’t left your brain just yet. 

The humiliation bothers you less than the knowledge that you are the type of girl to use others to soothe your own wounded pride. You’ve become exactly the type of girl you used to make fun of when you were younger, and it makes you sick to acknowledge there’s no trickery involved - no ghost possession or spiritual hijacking of your body. No, this is one hundred and ten percent you. 

Before you can think of a proper way to apologize to Namjoon, he cuts through your misery with a single question.  

“You asked me out because I’m taller than him, right?” he asks with a knowing smirk. He single-handedly diffuses the tension with the grace of someone who’s not looking to crucify you.

You purse your lips and play with the cardboard paper lining the cup. “It’s not the only reason,” you mumble. You look down again, but this time you catch on to the motion and correct for it. Namjoon is almost proud.

“I want to know all of them,” he says. If you are intent on being hung up over Jungkook, he is going to milk this not-quite date for all its worth.

Namjoon has a way of surprising you pleasantly, disarming you with easy conversation that doesn’t carry hidden nails to trap you in a game of gotcha.

“You’re a good person,” you say after a pause, deciding that “good person” aptly describes the essence of the man sitting in front of you in the most concise, factual manner.

There is so much you can say about Namjoon, but he already knows the chronology of his achievements. It’s his life after all. And Namjoon isn’t exactly unpopular on campus. It’s a relatively small school, and word spreads quickly when one of their own writes the occasional article for a globally syndicated paper. He would surely go places most people only daydream about, but more than his many earthly accolades, he’s good because of all the things found outside of his CV.

“You’re so cool… with everything you know and everything you’ve already done… but you were willing to help me get through that hell class.” The upperclassman was penciled in your book as Mister Perfect, the guy on track to ruling the world with eco-friendly conglomerates backing him while paying his employees a decent wage. He had helped you adjust to the world of upper division classes while you were the lone freshman who gamed her way to upper division status through some creative credit claiming.

It feels good to get his ego stroked, and Namjoon wants to hear more.

“And?”

“And you’re kind of ideal,” you answer without too much hesitation. “Tall, hot, super smart - but not like a total jackass about it... Tall...”

“But I’m not him.” He means this in the kindest way possible, but your face falls anyway. “It’s okay. We don’t choose who we like.”

And if there was such a thing as cosmic alignment or destiny or a higher power, it was laughing at you because what were the chances of gazing out the window at this exact time and seeing Jungkook walking past the coffee shop looking every bit as carefree as you wanted to be? Your breath catches as you spot the unmistakable red parka you bought for him on his birthday. The warm puffs of air leaving his mouth are visible even through the mildly-smudged glass window. Jungkook has probably finished with his shift for the day, and your gaze follows him until he rounds the corner.

“I’m so sorry,” you speak into hands that cover your face when you catch Namjoon’s amused and pitying smile. “I’m a mess.”

“Nah,” he responds, shaking his head. “You’re just not over him.” 

Namjoon parts ways with you on friendly terms. His retreating form looks architecturally handsome as he makes his way back to his dorm room on the other side of campus after walking you to yours.

It feels empty to be in your room alone during finals week. Your roommate is long gone back to her home in the sunnier parts of the world while you are stuck on campus for another week because you’re the chump who got stuck with a final on the last day in the last time slot. And it’s the exam you have to take with Jungkook too.

Maybe if the two of you were less angry with each other and less in the “bitter exes” mood, you could even study together, calling a brief truce on feelings and focusing on the much-needed A. Hyper-competitive does not begin to describe your desire to do well; besting others is a given, and besting yourself is the real challenge. (The only person you’ve ever lost to was Jungkook, but he is in a different league of unbeatable - an exceptional exception.)

Your phone sits in front of you at your desk, taunting you to drop your pride and text Jungkook because he’s good at force feeding information into your brain. It’s also because you miss him. With a scowl and an unladylike grunt, you shut off your phone with vicious swipe at the screen and study until your eyes hurt. 

***

There is a fresh pile of snow you have to wade through on your way to the designated exam building the following evening. Snow is a lifestyle at this university, and there are quite a few students who have transferred out because of the unforgiving climate. You long for the sunny beaches and scorching sun of Home, but you grit your teeth and bear it. Mama didn’t raise a quitter, and this university was going to carry you to medical school.

The hallway leading up to the exam room squeaks from your boots and wet tracks left by other students who have already arrived. You see the huddled masses of students poring over review sheets just outside the entrance to the exam room. There’s still thirty minutes left to cram. 

Jungkook stands out from the crowd in his usual fashion, the red parka a dead giveaway as he leans against the wall. His eyes are closed with headphones fit snugly over his ears as an indication to the world that he was in Do Not Disturb mode. He’s the only one without his notes out. 

Maybe you were projecting, but he looks thinner than usual now that you’re looking at him without the distraction of a date. Jungkook’s chin looks more prominent than ever, and his jaw is set into a careless frown that doesn’t make him look any less handsome. You’re staring, and it’s almost sad how you lap at this opportunity to gaze at him without fearing that you’d be found out. 

But Jungkook opens his eyes shortly thereafter, as if he has his sensors for you turned on, and meets your gaze with one of his own that’s just as intense, just as searching. “Caught” doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. You have the worst poker face, and Jungkook is excellent at reading you. 

You open your mouth to say hi, but he’s done looking at you right as you become ready to speak. Jungkook shuts his eyes once more and makes a show of fiddling with his phone, presumably to turn up the volume and tune you out decisively. If you were a braver girl with a bigger heart, you might have walked up to him anyway, unplugged his headphones, and greeted him with the steely determination of a girl set out to take what she wants without reserve. 

Instead, you wait outside the door like the other students, eyes glazing over notes you compiled the night before, your mind already blank and frozen. The door beeps ten minutes before the start of the exam, unlocking itself on a timer, and everyone files into the room in neat, tired lines. 

You glance back at Jungkook who’s taken off his headphones finally. He lets people cut in front of him like a good sport. Without stopping to consider how desperate you looked, you hang back on purpose to time your entry into the exam room to match him. 

“Good luck,” you tell him, hopeful. 

“You too.” It’s an automatic platitude, something said on reflex to any stranger.

Jungkook steps around you to take a seat in the far left corner of the room towards the back where everyone piles their wet effects. It’s the uncomfortable, damp section - the place no one wants to sit, and Jungkook happily takes his chair without a second glance in your direction. 

This is a bad time to discover that you’re about to cry. Try as you might, there’s no stopping the welling of tears in the corners of your eyes or the burn that singes through your nose as you hold back the muffled sobs that want out from  your trachea. The proctor gives you a pitying look when he puts down Version 2 of the exam face down in front of you, and you realize he must think you’re breaking down from finals stress. 

You have no energy left to pretend like you’re doing okay, and you take your final exam while wiping away your tears and blowing your nose religiously. You use up a whole packet of tissues much to the disgust of your neighbors. 

Jungkook is finished with his exam first to no one’s surprise, and when he leaves the room, just as quiet and unassuming as the way he entered, it finally hits you that he’s not going to wait in the hallway until you’re done with your exam. He will not play dutiful boyfriend bearing a vending machine snack and a smile to bring up your mood after a crappy test. The two of you are indeed strangers now, maybe less than that. 

The tears act up again, but you’re proud to say none of them landed on your exam to potentially fuck with your score. 

“Rough exam?” the proctor asks when you hand in your sheet and show him your ID card to prove you’re not a stand-in. 

“Yeah,” you reply, finding it easier to admit defeat to an exam than to your stupid emotions for a boy that doesn’t even care about you. “I tried my best though.” 

The proctor looks vaguely sympathetic. “That’s all you can really do.” 

You sign out and make your way back to your dorm room where a mountain of clothes awaits you for packing. 

“Let’s go home, girlie,” you tell yourself as you push open the front door of the building, your eyes closed and bracing for the cold.

***

***

***

***

It Actually Started Like This:

Jungkook held your hand for the first time, nearly shaking from the newness. He worried you’d be put off by his clammy, cold hands, but you paid no mind to that and threaded your fingers with his own. 

You were composed, much more than he was at least. The composure probably came from the smugness that followed after dismantling Jungkook’s theory about his inability to date Short Girls. But you had set him straight and proceeded to rip the metaphorical blindfold away from his eyes so that he could see the light. (You were the light.)

As he tried his best to calm his racing heart, you leaned in - a little bit teasing, a little bit saucy, completely his type - and while you weren’t even at his chin, you overwhelmed him with a personality that tore at his own.

“Wh- Th- I-” Jungkook was unable to speak. He cleared his throat, the sound adorable and borderline adolescent in its crack and pitch.

“There are so many benefits to dating a short girl, Jungkook,” you cooed, batting your eyelashes and looking down there. It was innuendo at its worst, and he loved it, craved it. He took in the blatant and gauche words like a sponge soaking up dirty dishwater before being wrung out. You were a bad influence on him, and he had picked up more than his fair share of bad habits because of you.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s mind was empty of intelligible thought outside of unbidden, suggestive images.

His mouth opened to say something else, something to impress upon you that he could give just as good as he got, but instead of cool words and a zinger, all that escaped his mouth was a hiccup.

Jungkook blushed.

***

***

***

***

And A Little Later There Was This

#bangtan bookclub #btswriters #noonanet #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #member: jungkook #genre: romance #genre: angst #it started out so differently #enjoyed it still

[a-splash-of-stucky]

A Messed Up Place | Five

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Reader

Summary: Bucky tries to take his mind off you. Things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Borderline smut (basically just some intense making out). Language, as usual.  I think that’s it....?

Notes: For @hellomissmabel’s challenge. I spent two hours or so writing this, instead of writing up my notes. Can you tell that I’ve got my priorities in check?

Also -- we’re a third of the way through the series, more or less! 

AMUP Masterlist

Bucky Barnes is very much conscious of the fact that his grave has already been dug. He’s now playing a waiting game, just hanging around, holding onto his will to live by the thinnest of threads. He’ll stick around until the final nail in his coffin is hammered into place and then—well. Then his worries will be gone, won’t they?

The nail-biting suspense consumes his every moment, hovering in the back of his mind like a pesky fly. No matter how hard he tries to shove the fear away, it always comes swirling back, stronger than ever. It’s all he can do to wait.

So he waits.

And waits.

And — goddammit when is Steve going to come and talk to him?!

It’s been nearly two weeks since Bucky decided to drink himself stupid in his bathtub and pour his heart out to Steve Rogers, aka the world’s most clueless best friend. Although a tiny part of Bucky is clinging to the hope — hah, hope. What a far-fetched concept — that Steve did not pay attention to Bucky’s drunken ramblings and has no idea who Bucky was talking about, a significantly larger part of him knows Steve. In fact, Bucky knows Steve better than Steve knows himself, sometimes. And if Bucky knows anything about Steve, it is that the man is smarter than appearances would imply. It’s tough to pull a fast one on him.

Which means that Bucky’s pretty sure that Steve knows that he was talking about you. Oh, who is he kidding? He wasn’t just talking about you, he was fucking professing his love for you. Bucky was essentially laying bare his heart and soul, spilling them all over the bathroom floor in vivid shades of love-struck red.

Bucky remembers the paralysing terror that gripped his muscles when he woke up the next morning and recalled the events of the night before. His memory of those couple of hours are fuzzy at best, tinged with the warm glow of alcohol-induced haziness, but he remembers the general gist of what was said and knows that it’s as convicting a piece of evidence as any. There’s no two ways about it; Bucky was referring to you.

Steve knows that Bucky has feelings for his girl.

What Bucky doesn’t know is why on earth Steve hasn’t approached him about it. It’s been over two weeks since the bathroom incident. In that time, Steve has carried on as normal, acting like nothing’s wrong between them. He’s behaving as if nothing’s changed, like everything’s right in the world. Then again, maybe Bucky’s just reading too much into the situation.

But because Steve has been going on with business-as-usual, he’s been dragging Bucky to the gym and out on runs at any given opportunity, trying to spend time together. Of course, Bucky wants to do anything but spend time with Steve — because really, why would he put himself through the torment of scrutinising every second, wondering when Steve will finally confront him — but he knows that avoiding Steve would come across as overly suspicious. Hence, although Bucky would much prefer hiding out in his room or some other, equally private and Steve-free place, he forces himself to plaster on fake smile after fake smile, laughing and swaggering around the place like nothing’s fucked up about him.

He’s terrified of what might happen if he were to stop pretending.

Maybe Steve wants Bucky to broach the topic. Or maybe, Steve is okay with sweeping the issue under the rug, pretending that it never happened, attributing it all to the looseness of tongue that comes from drinking a tad too much Asgardian mead. Bucky wouldn’t put that past him; in fact, pretending like it never happened in order to preserve Bucky’s pride sounds exactly like the kind of self-sacrificing thing that Steve Rogers would do.

Ah crap. He’s overthinking again.

Bucky is fully aware that he could put himself out of his misery if he just plucked up the courage and actually just talked to Steve, but therein lies the issue. Bucky doesn’t have courage. No matter what people say about him — he’s a coward at heart. Too afraid to tell you that he loved you and now, too afraid to come clean with Steve and potentially lose the trust of the only person who understands him in this strange new world.

Bucky wonders about a lot of things, but a thought that keeps on popping up is how Steve would react. Would he end his relationship with you so that Bucky could take his place? The two of you are pretty serious, so it’s a highly unlikely scenario, but still.

He’d like to think that there’s a chance.

He doesn’t deserve you, but Bucky wants you all the same. He doesn’t deserve you, but he wants to deserve you, wants to work his ass off to show you how much he cares. It’s conflicting, it’s confusing and it’s maddening enough that sometimes, all Bucky wants to do is ram his head against a wall. Several times. At full, no-holding-back, super-strength force. He’d bang his head several times, knock the thoughts of his head — or, y’know, knock himself out. Whichever came first.

It’s these kinds of thoughts that keep him up at night.

Bucky sighs heavily as he rolls onto his side and checks the clock he keeps on his bedside table. Seven minutes past five in the morning is an acceptable time to get up, no?  To be fair, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before — three hours, at a stretch — but then again, when does he ever get more than four hours of sleep a night, anyway? Nowadays, thoughts of you, thoughts of Steve and worries about his life in general are enough fodder for his brain to chew over, keeping him tossing and turning well into the quiet hours of the morning.

He needs a distraction.

A distraction of a particular kind. Bucky knows that it’d only be a temporary fix, will only take his mind off the hell that his life has become — take his mind off you — for a couple of hours if he’s lucky, but fuck. He needs it. He needs a break from the raucous cacophony that is the inside of his head.

With a weary sigh, Bucky heaves himself out of bed, pulls on a pair of sweatpants and yesterday’s t-shirt, then trudges out to the into the common area in search of her. If he’s lucky, she’ll be here.

Natasha never was one for sleep.

Sure enough, when Bucky enters the spacious living room that functions as the compound’s main lounge area, he finds Natasha curled up on the plush armchair in the corner, mug of coffee in one hand, legs tucked underneath her body and a book propped up on the armrest of her chair. She’s dressed in slim-fit black jeans and a striped grey hoodie, with a splash of red on her lips to match the fiery redness of her hair. It’s not uncommon for him to find her like this most mornings. The two of them hardly ever sleep through the night — in fact, Bucky’s fairly certain that she sustains herself entirely on power naps throughout the day — so they’ve developed a kind of amiable, if rather silent, morning routine around each other.

Bucky knows that she’s heard him come in, so that fact that she’s chosen to not acknowledge him is entirely on purpose. He flops into the the two-seater sofa directly opposite her and clears his throat.

“Natasha?”

Her gaze flicks up sharply, coming to rest on him. Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as she studies him for all of two seconds, makes some sort of judgement in her mind and decides that Bucky is worth her attention. She lifts her mug to her cherry-red lips, poised to take a sip. Before she does, though, she arches an eyebrow inquisitively, as if to say go on, I’m listening.

Bucky licks his lips. “I need a favour,” he admits.

She makes a thoughtful humming noise, sips her coffee, then sets her mug and book down on the decorative side table to her left.

“Tell me more,” she replies.

———————

Amy is nice, by most people’s standards. More then nice, even. She’s got bleached-blonde hair that brushes her shoulders, a charming but not overtly-memorable face and a killer body, highlighted by the skin-tight blue velvet dress she’s wearing. Amy is kind enough to chuckle at Bucky’s half-hearted attempts at humour and is interesting enough to keep the conversation flowing easily.

He doesn’t know much about her background, only the barest details that Natasha thought would be useful to him. Bucky knows that she’s ex-SHIELD, went with Natasha on a couple of missions whilst the two were based in DC. Her skill-set meant that she got snatched up by a private security firm the moment SHIELD ceased to exist and now works as a bodyguard for high-level female clients. To be honest, Bucky doesn’t give a flying fuck about her background. All he cares about is the fact that she’s pretty, she’s sweet and she’s almost enough to take his mind off you.

Almost.

The waiter comes by at that moment, bottle of fancy red wine in one hand. He tops up their glasses and asks if everything’s alright.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Amy says, flashing him a polite smile.

She’s got nice teeth, Bucky notices absentmindedly. Takes care of her oral hygiene, he supposes. Good to know, given the fact that he’s probably going to get up-close-and-personal with her teeth in under an hour.

Sure, a part of him — the last remnants of James Buchanan Barnes, ladies-man of the 1930s — does feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of what tonight means. He’d been explicit with Natasha. He’d told her that he wanted a girl with a nice enough personality that he could stand having dinner with, and a nice enough body for him to fuck his way through his grief. It’s terrible of him, he knows this, but goddammit, how else is he supposed to give himself a break from thoughts of you?

To his credit, Bucky knows that Amy is under no illusions about what this evening is about. They’re going through the notions of dinner at a respectable restaurant just to make Bucky feel a little less terrible about himself; an attempt to pretend that chivalry is still alive and thriving. In reality, he and Amy know exactly where this night is headed: to her apartment. Possibly her bed, although Bucky’s not picky about where they do it. This is a fuck-date, through and through.

Bucky shifts in his seat and readjusts the rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt. Amy catches him fidgeting and raises one perfectly-manicured eyebrow.

“D’you wanna stay for dessert, or would you rather have something at my place?” she asks, batting her eyelashes suggestively.

Bucky chuckles, decides to play along with her game. “What kinda dessert are you offering, ma’am?”

Amy laughs softly as she pushes around the remains of her pasta with her fork. “Well…I was thinking…something sweet?”

“I like sweet,” Bucky murmurs, spooning the last of his mushroom risotto into his mouth.

“Mmm, maybe we could even have dessert in bed,”.

“Now you’re talking my language,” Bucky chuckles, waggling his eyebrows knowingly. The corner of her lips crooks up into a half-smile. It’s settled, then. Bucky signals to the waiter, pays for the bill, then leads Amy out of the restaurant with a hand resting on the small of her back.

The cab ride to her apartment is blissfully short, no more than ten minutes. Amy drapes her body against Bucky’s side; a pleasant source of warmth. She keeps her hand on his thigh, idly stroking up and down the inner seam of his dark skinny jeans, starting from the inside on his knee and stopping just a fraction short of where his dick is. He knows she’s doing it on purpose, trying to rile him up and boy does it work.

Bucky exits the cab with his leather jacket folded over one arm and strategically held in front of his body, to hide the semi he’s got going on. He catches Amy’s eyes flickering over him, the tiny smirk on her lips; she’s clearly aware of the effect she’s having on him.

She knows what she’s doing when she exists the elevator first, walking a few steps of Bucky so that he can admire the sinuous curve of her back and the gentle swish in her hips as she walks down the corridor to her place. Bucky knows that she knows that he’s watching, knows that she’s probably exaggerating the sway of her hips for his benefit, but damn, she looks good in those heels. His dick presses up a little bit harder against the fly of his jeans.

Her apartment is neat and nondescript, largely devoid of any kind of personalised touches. It’s the home of someone who’s hardly ever home, lacking the decor and finishing touches that give a place a lived-in feel. Bucky kicks the door shut behind him and allows himself to be pressed to the wall. Amy leans in close, but pauses a hair’s breadth away from his lips, giving him one last chance for him to back out.

The room stills. Tension is fraught in the air. She’s close enough that Bucky can feel her hair tickling his stubbled cheek, can feel the warmth of her breath against his lips every time she exhales.

Tonight is not about backing out.

Bucky surges forward, cupping the back of her neck with his flesh hand as he crushes their lips together. Amy responds in kind, immediately catching onto the fact that tonight is not the night for gentle touches and tender caresses. Bucky wants it rough, wants it tinted with the red-hot filter of pain. He nips at her bottom lip and, when she moans heatedly, slips his tongue into her mouth, flicking it around teasingly. Amy huffs in frustration and fists her hands into the front of his shirt, using her grip to bodily yank him over to her sofa.

She pushes Bucky into the cushions and stands between his spread thighs. Bucky runs his hands up the backs of her legs, slipping them underneath her skirt and letting them rest just below the swell of her ass. Her hair is fluffy and slightly disheveled, eyes heavy-lidded and pupils blown with desire. She kicks her heels off then climbs into Bucky’s lap, shins bracketing the outsides of his thighs.

Amy’s close enough that Bucky can feel the heat radiating off her like a furnace. He leans into her touch as she trails her fingers down his cheek, humming in approval as she scratches her nails against the skin behind his ear. Amy licks her bottom lip coquettishly, cocks her head to the side and comes in close, brushing her lips against Bucky’s own.

Bucky feels like he’s been starved of touch as of late, so he lets his hands roam wherever they may go; kneading her ass, smoothing over her hips and trailing up her back. Amy’s nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons of his shirt as she presses her lips to his more insistently, deepening the kiss. Bucky closes his eyes and lets her tongue into his mouth, tries to lose himself in the moment, attempts to make the dissonant racket inside his head quieten down to ambient white noise.

As is to be expected, he fails.

Kissing Amy, drinking in her taste, feeling her up is all well and good but it’s not…it’s not you. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong, doing this. Bucky is conflicted. Her smell is wrong. It’s too flowery, too sweet, a far cry from the fresh, crisp scent of your skin. Perhaps that’s a good thing, he tells himself. But as much as Bucky tries to convince his mind that this is what he needs, he knows that in reality, he’s just lying to himself.

He doesn’t need Amy.

It’s not Amy’s laugh that makes his heart thrum a little bit faster. It’s not Amy’s touch that makes Bucky feel complete. It’s not Amy’s eyes that calm the storm that rages inside him.

He doesn’t need Amy. He needs you.

There’s a sinking feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, like someone’s dropped an anchor and is bringing tonight’s events to their premature end. With much reluctance and a heaving sigh, Bucky pushes hard against Amy’s shoulders and forces her to sit back in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asks breathlessly, raking her fingers through her hair to push it out of her face.

Bucky sighs again, smiles apologetically and scratches at his chin. “I—I’m sorry. I can’t do…this,” he mutters, using one hand to gesture in vague circles between them. “It’s not you…it’s me,” he says immediately, “Sorry. I—you’ve been great, but I just…can’t. M’sorry,”.

He braces himself internally for the slap. The rejection, disdain and disappointment. He is surprised when it does not come.

“There’s someone else, huh?” Amy murmurs, cocking her head to one side as her understanding dawns on her expression.

Bucky winces. “Um..kind of? I—yeah. It’s…it’s real complicated,”.

Amy exhales a breath of air in a rapid whoosh, nodding her head as she makes a disappointed clucking sound with her tongue. “Well. I kinda knew. I was expecting this, if I’m honest,”.

Bucky’s gaze snaps towards her. “You what?”

Amy shrugs. “Kinda had an inkling the moment I sat down at that table, Barnes. You weren’t in the right headspace for a hookup. Been reading the bad vibes off you this entire night — s’ kinda what I’m paid to do,” she says.

“Damn it,” Bucky grumbles, “I really was making an effort,”.

“Really?” Amy asks, the teasing lilt returning to her voice. “You call that makin’ an effort? You were a terrible kisser,”.

“Hey!” Bucky protests.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Amy chuckles, petting his cheek. “No, it’s fine, I was prepared for this to happen, so I’m not that disappointed, really,”

“Sorry,” Bucky says again; quieter, more sincerely this time.

She smiles gently, rests her hand against the side of his neck. “Don’t be sorry. I get it. I hope things work out for you, Bucky,”.

The right side of his lips twitches in a wan attempt at a smile. “Me too,” he breathes. Amy appraises him for a moment longer, then swings her legs off him and throws herself onto her couch, sprawling ungracefully across the empty space.

She lifts her head up slightly to look at him. “D’you wanna stay, or…?”

Bucky shakes his head ruefully as he does up the top buttons on his shirt and looks around for where his jacket’s been discarded. “I…think I’ll be heading back now, if it’s all the same to you,” he tells her.

Amy waves her hand dismissively, “Eh, the new season of Stranger Things is out, and I need to catch up on that anyway. It’s no big deal, for me,”. Bucky mentally thanks Amy for being so cool with all this. He needs to tell Nat to send her a thank-you present of some sort. Bucky stands up and retrieves his jacket from where it’s been dropped on the floor. He bunches it up in both hands as he chews on his lip and stands awkwardly in her entrance hallway.

“Something wrong?” Amy calls.

“This was…it was nice, Amy,” Bucky says, shooting her a half-smile, “I had fun, I really did. I’m sorry I…yeah. this was fun,”.

“It was,” she agrees, “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to take your mind off whoever this was. Must be one hell of a crush you got there, Barnes; most men find me irresistible when I’m grinding in their laps,”.

“I will admit, you almost had me, at one point,” Bucky laughs, as he shrugs on his jacket.

“Damn. I’m losing my touch,” she mutters.

Bucky chuckles as he turns the handle of her door. “Bye, Amy. Thanks for—everything,”.

“It was a pleasure. Have a good night, Bucky,”.

———————

It’s a clear night, so Bucky decides to get off the train a few stops early and walk the rest of the way to the compound. His rationale is that the crisp, slightly chilly night air will help to clear his mind.

He’ll take anything that has even the slightest chance of clearing his mind, at this stage.

Bucky can’t stop thinking about you. He’s in love and he’s suffering as a result. Every thought he has of you is bittersweet; you are his pleasure and his sole source of pain, his light and the very reason for the darkness threatening to consume him.

Bucky’s mind is a mess of emotions right now. His pissed off with himself, envious of Steve, frustrated with the universe and generally fed-up with how shit his life has become. He knows that the two of you aren’t together — you were never together in the first place — so he has no right to feel like this. Why should he feel protective and jealous and angered in a way that has his hands clenching into tightly-balled fists? Bucky has no right to feel this way, especially not when he factors Steve into the equation, but none of that — none of the rationalising of what is right and wrong and should and shouldn’t be — changes the fact that he does feel.

He feels too much.

Tonight was a bust. Bucky knows that he’s fully entitled to sleep with another woman. There’s no way you could’ve held that against him, what with you being in a committed relationship with Steve, and all. Even so, Bucky can’t help but feel that by sleeping with Amy, he would’ve been cheating on you, in some way. It’s utterly irrational, but fucking Amy would’ve felt dirty and sinful in all the wrong ways, like he’d be betraying your trust, somehow. He knows that that thought is complete nonsense, but it’s one that he can’t ignore.

That seems to be the recurring theme, Bucky notes. He knows. He knows this, he knows that, but the fact is, he knows. And yet, no matter what the logical part of his brain is telling him to do, Bucky never seems to be able to listen to it. It seems that his body is hard-wired to follow the instincts of his love-stricken heart, and look where that’s taken him.

In a way, he’s glad of the way the night’s turned out. Amy doesn’t deserve to be used that way, as if she were a means to an end. She’s more than just a temporary patch-up for a problem that has no solution. Bucky has fucked up a lot in recent weeks; he doesn’t need to go out of his way to make yet another mistake.

His feet have carried him to the gates of the compound without him even realising where he was going. Bucky taps his access code into the panel, lets FRIDAY scan his thumbprint and then makes his way up the gravel drive once the gate lets him through.

It’s just after midnight when he slips through the front door, so Bucky’s pretty surprised when he sees that the hallway light is still on. Most of the lights in the compound are operated via sensors, with FRIDAY automatically turning them off when no one’s in the room. Bucky catches the low thud of footsteps and—

—his breath catches in his throat.

“Heya, Bucky,” you chirp. You’re dressed in a pair of loose flannel pyjama pants and one of Steve’s t-shirts. A glass of water is in your hand.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks. God. How do you manage to make fucking pyjamas look sexy?

“Nat told me you went out tonight. Had fun?” you ask, eyes quickly taking in his outfit.

“Umm…yeah, it was okay, I guess,” Bucky murmurs distractedly, “Not the best night of my life,”.

“Hmm, well…” you let your voice trail off as you glance down the corridor, “I—um..I better…Steve’s waiting, I think,”.

Bucky’s eyes widen a fraction before he catches himself. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, sorry—didn’t mean to keep you,”.

“No, it’s fine!” you assure him, as you shuffle down the corridor, towards your room. “G’night, Bucky,”.

“Night,” Bucky replies.

Bucky doesn’t bother to add the ‘good’ because there’s nothing good about tonight. Not for him, at least.

————————- Tags are open (permanent and for AMUP), but I’m only accepting tag requests from asks or PMs. Replies/comments will be ignored. 

#annies2kbirthdaycelebration #bucky x reader #steve x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagines #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #a messed up place #my writing #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut

[samingtonwilson]

What You (Don’t) Look Like - Jim Kirk

Summary: a collection of moments in which you ask jim if you really look like what he’s implying.

Warnings: language, fluff mostly

A/N: i don’t know what this is. i couldn’t think of a title to save my life.

The exam room was dark.

It was dark, air-conditioned, clean, and inviting.

The exam room was the embodiment of absolutely everything you could want in that moment. The exam room was your nirvana, the exam room was your paradise and would remain so for the hour you had for lunch.

You entered with the sleepiest, most exhausted smile lazily pulling at your lips and slammed your hand against the control panel with whatever bit of your energy remained to close the door.

Biobeds were anything but plush, cloud-like, marshmallow mattresses that would hug your body. The mattresses they bore had the thinness of one-ply toilet paper and were about as huggable as a cactus. But the instant you lied on that biobed, your boots toed off by the door and your face buried in the equally flimsy pillow at the head of the bed, you swore you’d never felt something so heavenly.

Your eyes fluttered shut instantly and a soft moan left your lips when the slight bending of one of your legs brought you enough comfort to send you to whatever level of heaven was higher than nirvana.

You were just about to let the sweet hands of sleep take you under when a loud knock was followed by the deafening hissing of the opening door and a blinding stream of light poured in.

You groaned, hugging the pillow closer to you as you squeezed your eyes so something would block all of that brightness. “I’m on my break, Bones! Shut the damn door!”

The door slid shut. “I don’t recall the plan being to meet here.”

The voice was distinctly not Southern and your eyes opened— one by one. You lifted your head and set your chin on the pillow, tilting your head as you looked at Jim’s silhouette outlined by the faint safety lights. “We had plans?”

He sighed as he crouched down by the bed, his arms folded atop the mattress. A kind smile pulled at his full lips. “Meet in my ready room so you could eat the last bit of cereal I snuck on from Earth,” he nodded, scrunching his nose when you let out a dejected breath. “Yeah, angel, we had plans.”

You groaned again and lifted yourself up into a seated position, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed so he was face to face with your knees. You raked your fingers through his hair and thereby wasted whatever time he’d spent on it.

He didn’t mind, though, looking up at you with that same small smile.

“I’m sorry, Jim. How much sleep I need just hit me all at once.”

He stood up and turned around so he could lean back against the edge of the bed, staring at the panel beside the door. “Sleep at night next time.”

Knowing full-well darkness underlined your eyes and exhaustion plagued your irises, you placed your hand under his chin and guided his eyes back to you, asking with a small smile, “Do I look like someone who sleeps at night?”

You spent the night in Jim’s quarters.

From the outside, it always looked like something was happening between the two of you. With the witty, flirty remarks you passed to one another, with the longing stares you hid from one another, with the insanely large amount of time you spent with one another, it definitely looked like something was happening.

From the inside, though, things were different than they appeared. You were platonic. Totally, absolutely, and unfortunately platonic.

In this case specifically, you were charting, drinking, and talking while he was reading, drinking, and talking– platonically. You both got work done while spending time with each other— platonically. It was truly a two-birds-with-one-stone type situation.

You thought for a moment it was a three birds situation as you realized all the non-replicated, almost contraband-like Earth food the two of you managed to sneak on board was stored in his quarters.

Hair wet from the shower, right foot bare, and left boot only a third of the way zipped up, you hobbled into the kitchenette.

Jim chuckled as he watched you. “You need some help there?”

“I’m too tired to bend and zip. I also don’t want to flash my underwear at you in this stupid uniform and the prevention of that takes too much energy.”

He shook his head, crouching immediately. He zipped up the left boot and took the right boot from your hand to slip onto your foot, zipping that one as well. He looked up at you with narrowed blue eyes. “Is that good, Cinderella?”

“Perfect. D’you have coffee?”

He hummed, standing up straight and picking up his Starfleet mug. “I used the last bit of hazelnut creamer.”

Your mouth fell open. “I brought that on board and didn’t even get any!” You reached for his mug and sighed when he leaned back. “Jim, give me the coffee.”

On pure childish impulse, he dragged his tongue over the entire rim of the mug before dipping it into the warm, tan liquid that had the most pleasant flavor of hazelnut. He smiled triumphantly when you looked at him disbelievingly.

You snatched the cup away as he was busy cockily grinning over his victory, taking a long sip and sighing in satisfaction. You nodded upwards at his furrowed eyebrows. “I’m sorry. Do I look like someone who would be stopped by that juvenile behavior?”  

Leonard’s office was one of your favorite places on the Enterprise— always cool but not too cool, always quiet but not too quiet. You’d spend all of your breaks there if you could help it— and you did, unless Jim asked you to meet somewhere else specifically.

You sat with your legs stretched out, your posture slouched, your eyes closed with your nose tipped towards the ceiling. Your breathing was even, your aching, overworked muscles relaxing more with each exhale.

It was a busy day in the medbay, which could be expected when Scotty was on medical leave to recover from a flu, leaving his engineers to run amok. Superficial burns, subtle bruises, and cuts that were luckily not too deep were all you had to look forward to for the entirety of your shift. Of course, you were glad no one was badly hurt but it was difficult to find and hold onto a silver lining when the patients kept flowing in as if part of an endless stream.

“Darlin’, someone might mistake you for a corpse if you lie so still.”

Eyes still shut, lips barely moving, you replied, “The goal is to be relaxed, Bones. I’m attempting relaxation.”

He snorted and you could just picture the rolling of his deep hazel eyes. “Want a drink to help with that?”

“Is that meant to be taunting? You know I’m on-call tonight.”

“How am I meant to know that?”

You opened your eyes and frowned. “You make the schedules.”

He looked up from his PADD, tilting his head. “I’ve got more physicians than just you, sugar. You’re flatterin’ yourself if you think I’ve memorized your schedule.”

“You’re flattering yourself if you think I believe you. You’re obsessed with me.” You closed your eyes again, ignoring the opening of the door behind you.

“Is there a dead body in that chair?”

You frowned, sitting up and glaring at Leonard as you saw Jim sit down beside you from your peripheral vision. “Seriously, do you two just share one mind or is there some telepathic shit happening here?”

“Telepathic shit,” Jim answered, smirking when you looked at him. He held a large, warm hand out to you. “Come on, angel. Get dinner with me.”

“Jim, do I look like someone who has enough energy to do anything other than sit?”

He sighed dramatically, rising as if he hadn’t just sat down, and muttered, “Fine. But I’m only bringing you a sandwich. And I’m not bringing you dessert— s’not like you won’t end up taking mine anyway. Nothing for you, Bones.”

Perched atop a barstool as you watched Jim make a fool of himself for the twelfth time that night, you spun the thin red straw in your ice-filled drink. You tilted your head when the woman he spoke to began to laugh, giggles leaving her lips as her hand was flat against her chest. You had to suppress the urge to snarl openly.

Leonard chuckled as he watched your lips struggle against downward movement, sitting beside you with his elbows placed on the sticky bar counter. “Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You brought your drink to your lips and took a large gulp. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Talk to him.”

You snorted, pressing your glass to one of your cheeks which felt hot from the alcohol in your system. “I’ll talk to him in hell.”

He chuckled again, louder this time— loud enough to have Jim glance over curiously.

It was when that giggly woman lost interest that he walked over to the two of you, Leonard still smirking with a barely concluded laugh while you continued to scowl deeply. “I seemed to have lost whatever game I once had.”

“Ain’t ever had game,” Leonard quipped, taking a sip of his bourbon and leaning forward to look past you once Jim sat down on your other side. “You’re a good lookin’ guy, people just concentrate on that.”

“Will you sleep with me, Bones?” Jim asked, smiling to himself.

“Hard pass,” he replied dryly. “Come to think of it, I’ll be seein’ you two later. That empty booth is really callin’ my name.”

You watched with a firm frown as Leonard left, shaking your head once he sat in an empty booth with a look of peaceful contentment.

“You tell me, angel,” Jim began, capturing your attention once more. “What am I supposed to do to have game again?”

You truthfully didn’t understand why he didn’t “have game.” The way he looked at you when he uttered that single sentence made the prospect even more impossible— you felt like you were all he could see, all he wanted to see. You had to look away. “First of all, don’t call it having game. Secondly, I don’t know.”

“I just need advice.”

“Advice? From me?” you asked, meeting his gaze once more. “I’m compared to unmeltable ice most of the time by everyone, I can’t sleep in someone else’s bed after having sex no matter how long the relationship, most of the people I date never hear me say I’m even fond of them. So, you tell me, do I look like someone who knows what they’re doing romantically?”

You were staring at your PADD while Jim and Leonard argued. You weren’t even sure what the argument was about— they argued too much for you to make an attempt at keeping track.

It was just the way their dysfunctional relationship functioned. They had differing opinion and would yell the respective opinions at each other only to both switch sides and start all over. The fights were rooted in unimportant issues, charged by odd bouts of masculine energy, and totally not worth your time.

So as you sat atop the counter in your favorite exam room, swinging your legs, you clicked your tongue in a random rhythm.

When you got too into the little song your tongue clicking composed and started bobbing your head, you looked up and saw both men staring at you expectantly. You clapped your hands together once you set your tablet down. “Whip ‘em out, I’ll measure.”

“What?” Leonard asked first.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing. What’d you need?”

“Bones thinks—”

“Wait, is this about the argument?” Upon their nods, you shook your head once more with a laugh. “If you’ve already switched sides, the two will come to the same conclusion in, like, three minutes– if not, I give it ten minutes. I thought you were going to ask me to check on a patient or something.”

“At least listen,” Jim began once more.

You shook your head at the two of them. “I’m not taking sides here. Not between the two of you. I mean, do I even look like someone who wants any part of this?”

Another night spent in Jim’s quarters.

You barely slept this time, knocking back drink after drink of an alcoholic beverage not even legal according to Federation regulations.

You told him about everything— about why you thought you were so romantically inept, about why you could never sustain a friendship with anyone that didn’t try a lot harder than you did, about why you felt so free on a ship that was so physically restrictive.

He told you about everything, too— about why he was so romantically inept, about why he felt like he could never go back to Iowa without risking a black eye and broken teeth, about why he needed the control being captain allowed him.

Though he was working the following morning, he knew you needed a night to vent and to hear stories you weren’t involved in, stories you could lose your problems in for just a minute. So he sacrificed his sleep, listening and talking to his heart’s content.

After all, you understood each other— and he’d happily give up sleep for that.

He awoke long before you absolutely had to, your day off allowing you a morning to sleep in and relax. He shut his alarm off so it wouldn’t disturb you, turning to look at you as soft snores left your slightly parted lips.

He smiled a bit, leaning forward but stopping himself before he could press a kiss to your forehead.

He stared a little longer and climbed out of bed when he felt sufficiently creepy. He was successful in keeping the room’s peace.

It was when he got into the shower that you were stirred awake without a sliver of hope to resume your slumber.

He was singing and, while it wasn’t your first time hearing him sing, something about it made you want to keep listening so you could memorize his tone, his pitch, the notes he managed to hit, every bit of his voice as if it was a precious sound you didn’t hear often.

It was an old song— something he’d told you about before, something you remembered as being the song his mother would sing him every night so a restless young Jim would finally be lulled to sleep.

You were sitting up in bed when the bathroom door slid open, his humming much louder without the barrier between the two of you. You smiled at him when he caught you fully awake. “S’a nice song. What’s it called?”

“Fly Me to the Moon— s’a million years old,” he said with a shrug of his bare shoulders, water droplets falling from his hair and rolling down his torso to dampen trousers he hadn’t done up yet. “What are you doing up? You have the day off.”

You shrugged back, still smiling. “You’re the most pleasant sounding alarm clock I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, angel, I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled his black undershirt on. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I just have this obnoxious habit of always singing in the shower—”

“Now, Jim, do I look like someone who is miserable to hear that smooth-as-honey-and-melted-chocolate voice?” you asked with a tilted head. “Sing more.”

It’d been a week since the two of you had spoken.

An achingly long, irrational week during which you lived in a silence you convinced yourself was peaceful and not totally deafening. An achingly long week you wanted to spend moving on rather than staying still in the same, disgustingly jealous place as the week before.

It’d been two weeks since the onset of your blinding jealousy, your disgusting jealousy.

Objectively, there was nothing wrong with what he’d done. Objectively, he was a friend to you and nothing more. Objectively, that meant he could sleep with whoever he wanted on shore leave and you had no right to feel anything about it.

But subjectively, it ate you up inside. Subjectively, you were feeling too many indistinguishable things that gave you a sore chest and a confused mind.

And it wasn’t as if your final interaction was meaningful. You just said hello in the halls and nothing else. You didn’t even look at him when you said it— the blue of his eyes held too much pain, too much confusion for your weak self-control.

You got better at hiding from him as a result. In your own quarters, in the medbay, in the corner beside Scotty’s make-shift office in the bowels of the Enterprise— you were now proud at your ability to hide from him.

You questioned your pride the moment you looked up from that special dark corner only illuminated by the warp core, only soundtracked with the hum of the warp core, to see an angry Jim standing before you. Even his heavy footsteps had sounded angry.

Before you could let him see your face fall, you looked back at the novel pulled up on your PADD.

“(Y/N).”

You hummed but didn’t even spare him a glance.

He sighed. “You aren’t speaking to me.”

Your hum ended in an implied question mark.

“You aren’t speaking to me and I—” another sigh, “I need you to speak to me. And look at me— I need you to look at me.”

You lifted your head so it lolled against the metallic wall behind you, your nose tipped upwards to meet his eyes— eyes surrounded by and imbued in exhaustion. You would have been sent to your knees had you been standing. “Now what?”

“Now I— Now I want to know why we aren’t speaking.” He combed his fingers through his hair and pulled at the ends— uncharacteristic for a man so obsessed with styling his hair. You would’ve quirked an eyebrow under normal circumstances. “You’re my closest friend and—”

“Bones is your closest friend.”

He tilted his head. “Why aren’t we speaking?”

“We’re speaking right now.”

“I mean in general,” he sighed loudly in frustration, gaining the attention of a passing red shirt. “Can you just answer me? Do me a favor and just answer me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself off the ground so you stood at your full height. “Don’t demand answers and then call them crap when they’re not what you want to hear.”

“Then don’t lie so blatantly. I’ve told you before that you have a tell,” he said as he had the audacity to crack a small smile that sent something strong through your chest. “Your right eyebrow raises.”

You blinked, pausing for a moment before shaking your head and trying to push past him. “Goodnight, Jim.”

He sighed as you walked a few steps away, catching up to you easily. He had the good sense not to grab your hand and pull you to a stop. “I can’t— I can’t not speak to you everyday, and see you everyday, and be around you everyday!”

You spun around, frowning. “Do I look like someone who wants to be around you everyday?”

Seconds of stillness and silence passed until he laughed through his nose humorlessly. “You used to want that.”

You nodded with half a shrug. “That was before I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“What? What did you get yourself into, angel? What’s so bad about me that even you—”

“You know, I’m totally in love with you,” you almost laughed, staring at him in what felt like defeat. “Yeah, like, hearts in my eyes, write your name all over a fucking notebook, head over whatever in love with you.”

Full lips parted, eyes widened as he stared at you. “Wh—”

“Ever since that night at the bar, I feel heartbroken. I feel like you cheated on me. Which is ridiculous because we aren’t dating and we both have sex with other people all the time!” You were actually laughing now, a bit of dreaded wetness on your cheeks that you wiped away furiously. You ignored the steps he took towards you. “I can’t be around you after that. It hurts now.”

He took a half-step towards you this time, his face just inches from yours. He didn’t know where to put his hands, deciding on placing one at your waist and one on the back of your neck. “I didn’t do anything that night.”

“What?”

“I didn’t do anything with that person from the bar. I almost did until I realized how stupid all of this is,” he said with a slight laugh. His thumb stroked your jaw so softly you thought you were made of glass. “I shouldn’t be sleeping with other people when I’m in love with my best friend.”

With that he leant forward, brushing your noses together before pressing his lips to yours. His arm tightened around you almost instantly, holding you up when you thought you might collapse.

When you began to kiss him back, the relaxation you felt in your every limb and the warmth you felt in your every vein was almost indescribable. You kissed him with every bit of love inside of you, your hands against his chest in uncertainty of where to hold him.

Just as your fingers combed through the hair on the nape of his neck, he pulled away and placed his forehead against yours, his breath washing over your heated cheeks. “You’re sure? About how you feel— you’re sure? Because there’s no going back for me.”

“Do I look like someone who is unsure?”

#I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT LMFAOOOO #GOOD JOB TAAL #jim #jim kirk #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #kirk imagine #star trek #star trek imagine #captain kirk #captain kirk x reader #captain kirk imagine

[warmau]

{Special} College!AU Yuta

major: plant biology

minor: n/a

sports: soccer team

clubs: photography club, earth coalition, did debate team for a while but only because he liked getting into arguments with doyoung in front of people LOL

is really popular, fun, and relaxed,,,,,,you can see him taking a stroll from the library to the lab looking absent mindedly at the trees or at the sky

but don’t underestimate him,,,,,because he’s actually really smart and organized

a lot of the research he does in his courses is praised by his teachers even though he’ll play it off and be like “ah~ i got it right? what luck!”

but in front of other students he’s like hell yeah im the prince of the plant biology major ~~

likes nature so decided he may as well make a career out of it, also taeil told him once that he looked good in white so getting to wear the lab coat kinda makes him giddy

but he frequently likes to hike and go to forests,,,even on days when it isn’t required for his major

flirts naturally with everyone, from the TA in class, to the people in his group, to people in completely different majors, once came in to check up on an experiment his group was doing on some eucalyptus plants and i shit u not he touched a leaf and was like “ahhhh, you look pretty today~” to the freaking plant

tried to tutor for plant ecology but yuta has this thing where he can plan everything perfectly in his head but when he gets to actually trying to explain anything he’s like ah,,,well,,,you see,,,,one plant,,,and other plant,,,,become friends??? wait no,,,,,biologically plants cant make friends,,,,,,they,,,,,,interact? first date? yEARS of EVOLUtiON haVE CREATed This pLANT,,,,,,,,,,,,does that not make sense

but hey,,,he tried his best

doyoung calls him “narcissist nakamoto” anytime they see each other on campus dfldskdg

but honestly,,,he’s not wrong,,,,,because every soccer game the uni has yuta somehow ends up flashing that handsome smile of his and ending up on the front page of the uni’s sports website, the uni journal, hell even the other teams school has photos of yuta because he’s undeniably attractive

esp in a soccer uniform with his hair pulled back, pretty sweat down his strong jawline, and his eyes that can go literally from ^__^ to the most sERIOUS expression

comes of cool~ and suave~ and like suuuuuch a smooth talker

but all of his friends just sneer when people gush about yuta because they’re all like “this is the dork who calls his mom at like midnight and says he misses her and cries” and also apparently enjoys kidlike things like amusement parks and kamen rider 

“isn’t yuta soooo manly and dreamy~?”

taeyong somewhere: he collects anime figures don’t trust him

jokes jokes

but it’s cute,,,,yuta is all flower boy charm in his pressed lab coat and brilliant big smile and always trying to show off that he’s a gentlemen 

but also squishing winwin’s cheeks during lunch because wahhh so cute and getting all happy over the new pokemon release like,,,,,how soft

his dorm is slightly disheveled but it proves that he works hard with stacks of books and highlighters alongside the many trophies and medals he’s won for the school

(and ofc,,,,,his kamen rider figurines lmfao)

but yep it’s summer!!! which means a lot of kids have left the campus but some classes are still going on

you happen to not be taking any,,,,but you get a job at the local fair that’s going to run all summer a couple blocks away from the uni so you decide it’d be better to just stay in the dorm and well,,,,,make that Money

yuta,,,,,,,is also staying but that’s because one of his group studies is being conducted by a teacher who won’t be back in the fall

and tbh you only know yuta vaguely,,,,you’re friends with jaehyun who has talked about him and you’ve seen him in the school news

but,,,,,you’ve also “heard” rumors about him,,,,,how apparently he likes to flirt as much as possible and isn’t really interested in anything serious

someone once said something about how he accepted ten confessions in a day but then broke up with the girls through text

and you don’t???? know him???? but those rumors feel weird and full of jealousy

but at the same time like what is it your business anyway not like you and yuta have ever interacted 

until,,,,,,that changes

see your job at the fair is pretty simple,,,,you sell tickets to the ferris wheel and tell people which cabins to sit in

the ferris wheel is pretty tiny considering this isn’t a permanent fair,,,,and the rides like 5 minutes tops,,,,,but it gets fairly popular

esp at night when all the couples walk by sharing ice-creams and cuddling up close when they buy tickets

and secretly you’re like blEGh,,,but at the same time cant lose this job so u just smile and sell tickets

and??? that’s when you notice that almost every night

yuta comes by

and you know it’s him from the face but also,,,you’ve heard him speaking japanese on the phone when buying tickets,,,,,and you don’t think anything of it

but he keeps only,,,buying,,,,one ticket,,,,,every night

and idk you don’t want to say anything because maybe,,,,this is his stress relief from summer classes????? but at the same time everyones saying this popular boy who could have anyone he wants on campus is spending his nights. alone. on the ferris wheel

somehow, without either of you saying much to each other you memorize the time he comes by and save a ticket just in case 

like two weeks into this whole ordeal you dont even ask him to pay you just hand him the ticket and yuta gives you a look but you’re just like,,,,,go

because honestly you start thinking up ridiculous scenarios like,,,maybe he cries in there???? maybe the ride reminds him of a lost loved one??? maybe,,,,,,,,he uses it as a place to scream out all his frustration 

and the tickets are way 2 overpriced anyway college kids need to help each other out

but ,,,, the night before the third week of summer classes starts yuta finally says something to you 

and when he does you almost fall down,,,,because????? but as you slide the ticket over he goes “this place closes in half an hour, right?”

you nod 

and he’s like “ill be by the entrance. let me treat you to dinner.” 

at first you think you’ve heard wrong - maybe that he needs to treat someone to dinner

but when you meet his gaze, yuta smiles and is like “i promise to be there.” before walking off like it’s the moST Casual thing to ask a STRANGER to dinner

it shocks you so much that you barely manage to stutter out a “ok” when he’s literally gone

as,,,,he promised yuta is standing at the entrance as you come out still wearing your uniform t-shirt with the fairs name sprawled across the front

and yuta motions to it and is like “cute” and you’re like um,,,,,,what is happening

and he smiles again,,,so bright even though it’s nearing ten pm and he’s like “i know you,,,,,not from the fair but from college. you go to the same one as me.” 

you nod slowly but you’re still obviously confused

which only makes yuta chuckle, throwing his head back a bit when he does but he’s like “don’t worry, im not being creepy or whatever. it’s just,,,,,i know you’ve been giving me the tickets for free for a while so i thought i should do something nice back.”

the sentiment calms you down a bit,,,even though you try to say it’s fine you don’t need to be treated but yuta just throws his hand around you

pulling you by the shoulder closer and he’s like “nah,,,,we college students need to jump at any chance we get not to waste money - so c’mon!”

and that’s how you end up at a small stall at the night market,,,,yuta piling food onto the tiny plastic table as you watch him balance drinks in his other hand

for a moment you think back to those photos you’d seen of him on the school website. the star shining athlete of the soccer team

yet here he was,,,,looking something close to a fool,,,,,but in the most endearing way

you don’t expect to talk with him for a longtime,,,,but you do. 

yuta has a way of making people feel comfortable,,,,he’s obviously sociable and sweet and it’s hard not to like someone who gives compliments and actually seems interested in you

especially since the summer semester has left you pretty lonely on campus,,,,

but when you check your watch you’re shocked to see it’s nearing 1am and you have a shift tomorrow at the fair 

so hurriedly you and yuta clean up and practically sprint back to the dorms,,,,yuta making a joke about how he hasn’t run this much since soccer practice ended 

but as you stop in front of your dorm yuta says your name,,,,,smiling and adding that he’ll see you tomorrow before heading off into the other direction 

and it’s not till your brushing your teeth,,,,,looking in the mirror that you realize,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,that you just hung out with nakamoto yuta

the next night yuta shows up as usual,,,,this time he slips something toward you in exchange for the ticket,,,,,,a ice-cream bar from the grocery 

he says that it must suck to not be able to leave and take snacks and you look at the ice cream and go “how did you know my fav-”

and he grins and is like “ah, did you forget, you told me yesterday~ i personally like their green tea flavor more but,,,,”

and with that he waves,,,,going toward the ride and you sit there,,,,looking at the ice cream

and before you know it,,,there’s a small smile on your face

yuta is even waiting for you at the entrance again so you guys can walk back to campus together

this,,,happens for a bit,,,,,and then there’s a day when you have off and you pass yuta on campus only to have him call out to you and pout because you’re not at work~ he won’t see you later??

and you’re like nope i have the day off, you’ll actually have to pay for your ticket tonight 

he makes a face that makes you burst into giggles and he’s like ill have to call my sister for more money at this point,,,,,,,or oh,,,,,should i try and get doyoung to use his card,,,,

you shake your head because what street fair accepts cards???? and he’s like rats ur right,,,,,,

but it’s cute seeing him like this,,,,, in the daylight,,,,,eyes sparkling and pretty,,,,,,,

bUT you shake that thought off as soon as you see a group of underclassman walking by and calling out to yuta,,,,,saying something about how he still owes them all lunch or something

and the rumors you’d tried to forget come back to you,,,,,,,because hey he probably isn’t treating you any differently than how he treats others

catching feelings for him???? Big No No

but yuta turns back and says he’ll see you tomorrow then and there’s a hint of happiness in his tone,,,,,but again you’re sure you’re imagining it

so why is it that the next evening,,,,your stomach is full of butterflies,,,,,,you’re practically straining your neck to see if yuta is coming,,,,,,

the moment you see the familiar silhouette you start adjusting your hair and shirt,,,,,,,,god it makes you feel embarrassed but also,,,,,when his face appears in the window,,,,,smiling and happy

it makes your heartbeat surge and you mentally have to keep yourself in check as yuta tells you about something doyoung texted him this afternoon 

tbh as you hand him the single ticket,,,,,you get the sudden urge to ask ‘why don’t you ever take someone with you on the ride? like on a date?’

but you know you shouldn’t say something like that

but when you feel his hand brush against yours,,,,,you just,,,,,,you burst

“yuta, why don’t you ever ride the ferris wheel with someone else? someone,,,,,,special?”

yuta seems taken back,,,,,for a split moment even speechless but he just looks down at the ticket and you,,,,snap back into reality

and start to apologize because that was,,,,,rude of you,,,,,super rude,,,,,god why do you never thinK properly before speaking

but yuta just chuckles and is like “ok, you’re right i should take someone special can you give me another ticket?”

your heart literally drops into your stomach,,,,because,,,,,he does have someone special,,,,,,,,,,,,

but hiding your trembling hands as you print the ticket you hand it to him only to have yuta give it back and he’s like “let’s go.”

honestly speaking you shouldn’t ever leave your post at the ticket stand but the park is closing in ten minutes and there isn’t another person in sight so when yuta pulls you in behind him ,,,,,,

you find yourself sitting in the see-through cabinet,,,,,the lights of the two flickering below you as the wheel starts to turn

and you’re too busy looking at the view to notice yuta is staring at you

funnily enough,,,even though you’ve worked most of your summer there,,,,you’d actually never gotten to ride it before

so with the sudden invitation to get on,,,,,you kind of got excited,,,,,taking your phone out even to take photos

until you hear yutas voice

“so, ive taken someone special now. are you happy?”

and you look at him and blink,,,,,,,because wait,,,,,,,,are you that special someone???????

but ur like no no no way and so you change the topic and you’re like “why do you ride this every night? does it help you think?” 

but yuta just shrugs and is like “no. i just like it. i,,,,,,like it enough to ride it twice,,,,,three times but,,,,,,,”

and you look up from your phone at him and suddenly he’s leaning over

hand coming up to hold the side of your neck

and just as you reach the top you feel his lips against yours before he’s pulling away and whispering “but i like you so much that i thought if i come everyday,,,,if i ride this everyday,,,,,won’t they notice me in time?”

and,,,,,,,,no one has ever,,,,,,so straightforwardly,,,,,,,said something like that to you so you’re shocked,,,,, 

nearly dropping the phone in your hands but,,,,,,,,,but also,,,,,,you manage to ask “w-why?”

and yuta laughs,,,,,,hand on his stomach and he’s like “seriously? why? because,,,,,i saw you and it was like i was looking at my dream,,,,,,the person of my dreams,,,,,,,,and then when we got to talk i knew it was right. that you’re the one.”

the ferris wheel starts moving slowly again and once you and yuta get to the bottom you step out of the cabin,,,,,still trying to process the confession from him

when yuta’s hand slips into yours and he’s like c’mon your shift is over. let me treat you again.

and,,,,,,,you follow him but suddenly halfway down the streetyou stop and yuta turns to look at you and you’re like,,,,,,, “don’t play around.”

and he’s like ? what

and you yank your hand from his and you’re like “don’t play around with me. i don’t want to be just another person you woo and then,,,,,and then dump.”

yuta watches you,,,,,nervously looking toward the ground and he lets out a sigh and is like “do you think im playing? do you know how much money i spent on that ferris wheel in the first two weeks? 6 bucks for 6 days out of the week. that’s 36 a week, that’s 72 for tWO YOU KNOW WHAT 72 DOLLARS IS FOR A COLLEGE GUY DONT YOU”

and you look up and he’s like “listen,,,,,,some rumors about me are true. like how i stare out the window during class like a moron but am also ranked in the top five of my major. yeah i tend to fall over things because im not looking, but im still the ace of the soccer team. and yeah,,,,,,,,,i like to talk and be nice to lots of people but im not a player. my feelings for you are for real.”

you swallow the lump in you throat,,,but you’re also like,,,,,,,r-really?

and yuta is like yES really now do you feel the same or no?

you look at his outstretched hand,,,,,,,and you look at him,,,,,,,the smiling boy who’d treated you to dinner, who’d come everyday not to ride the ferris wheel but to see you,,,,,,,,,,,,and you take his hand

because what is there to lose in trusting this handsome, sweet guy,,,,,,who just happens to love corny things like the ferris wheel LOL

and most people cant believe yuta is actually dating,,,,,,,,,but not because of those stupid rumors but because he seemingly has never been interested

and when you meet his friends for the first time johnny asks if yuta didn’t perhaps pay you on the downlow to pretend-

but yuta is like heY im not you mr. chicago and ur like ????? and johnny is like fine fine fine

taeyong pats your shoulder and is like “good luck, he’s a handfull.”

you also learn of yuta’s undying fondness when it comes to transfer winwin which you dont mind because,,,,,the kids adorable and you and yuta are both like “he’s so cute” like 24/7

much to the disdain of literally everyone else,,,,,,,,winwin is lowkey savage though he told you once that you were too good for yuta who apparently is much more airheaded than it seems

but you were sure he was joking

until yuta literally almost burned down the dorm trying to make homemade takoyaki,,,,,,

but boyfriend!yuta is just,,,,,the best

he’s so fun and upbeat and never,,,,,like,,,,,,pushy

like sure he makes jokes about being prince of plant biology or the only man worthy of your attention

but he’s coming from a place of genuine love,,,,,and his want of your attention

which is kinda cute because if you ignore him for more than like twenty minutes you meet aegyo!yuta which,,,,,,,can either infuriate you or melt you it’s always a 50/50 draw on that one

yuta also loves taking photos which is something you leaned when everytime you’d go on a date he’d start taking candids of you

and you’d be like babe im just ordering off the menu we don’t need to take pic- but yuta is already like its fine i took one of you and it’s up on insta i tagged you check it out

his sister calls to check up on him and you’re always nervous to talk to her,,,,even though she roasts yuta to you and it’s amazing,,,but you’re always like i want your family to like me,,,,and yuta is like how could they not like you when i like you so freaking much

his sister told you about his flowershop job in highschool which you think is just the CUTEST so you always jokingly ask him to get you pretty custom bouquets 

but the thing is,,,,,,,,he does,,,,,,,he really does

and he surprises you with this big arrangement on the 100th day of dating and each flower has a meaning for what he thinks about you and it’s so beautiful,,,,,,,,yuta no matter how greasy he comes off secretly is a big sappy romantic. fight me on this

takes you hiking with him and if you get tired he’s always trying to get you to let him carry you and you’re like NO and he’s like “why not i am a man of nature, man of the mountains-” and ur like man of the mountains when you drop me accidentally off the cliff hell no nakamoto

if anything you do like hearing him talk about his major,,,,because people think he’s good looks and athleticism

but he’s also so smart,,,,,and his notes are all over the place sure but he knows what he’s doing and it makes you so proud

you caught him dancing in the lab once when he thought no one was alone. did he serenade a plant? he most def did

the hottest thing about him though,,,,is during his soccer matches it’s like 0 to 10000. at the beginning he smiles and waves at you blows air kisses and does the usual cringy sappy stuff

but,,,,,once the game is in heat,,,,,he changes completely

the softness in his eyes and smile are gone,,,,,,it’s just a fierce stare and raw determination 

and,,,,,,it’s ,,,,,,,,,a turn on especially when he wins and runs up the bleachers right up to you to get a kiss and slip his medal off to put around your neck

liKE,,,,,,,how idea,,,,,,,,,also getting to shower with him afterward?????? even more ideal

even though yuta can get pretty interesting,,,,intimately he’s always mush and goo for the kisses you give him on the tummy

when you both are just lazing around and he’s playing some 3ds game and you heads on his stomach going through your phone and you just lift up the hem of his shirt and kiss his tummy 

he makes the cutest,,,,,,,like the CUTEST hehehehe laugh,,,,,,,

“yuta,,,,don’t you have lab hours to do?” “yes,,,,but i also have cuddle hours to do so get over here”

when you’re upset,,,,,,yuta is,,,,,actually really good at comforting, he reminds you that he’s here,,,,,,by your side and nothing will hurt you and he’ll help you no matter what

and no matter how childish his interests are like video games and amusement parks,,,,,,he’s a serious man when it comes to you and your happiness

his mom texted you like 40000 baby photos of him which you love and cherish and yuta isn’t actually embarrassed at all tbh he thinks it’s adorable you fawn over him

(aka he lives for your attention. if you don’t give it to him, like i said, he turns into a mess of bad attempts on getting you to show him your love LOL) 

sleeps in class and still gets straight A’s - it’s infuriating 

but also,,,,,whenever you guys have time you’ll head into the city to the amusement park and get on the ferris wheel because no matter what yuta remembers it as your “first official date spot” even though that’d technically not be true

but it’s cute and it’s important to you two even though doyoung is like “go to a restaurant like ADULTS” but you and yuta aren’t rushing to grow up

any1 who spreads rumors about him gets you super worked up and you’ve screamed at a good number of people and yuta and the boys always hold you back

but afterword yuta is always kissing you madly because “wow i love you so much you stand up for me all the time and wow i love you ok im gonna keep kissing you no-”

you guys are a fun couple ok

still flirts with u even tho ur dating but he does it with plant puns to be cheesey. “will you never leaf me?” “if you were a flower you’d be a damndelion” “we were MINT to be”

what im saying is yuta comes off as not being a dork, but he’s the biggest dork

OH wearing his soccer team hoodie and people being like “wait, you’re dating nakamoto?” and you getting to be like yes ;-) yes i am ;-)

find other college!aus:

taeyong | bangtan | vixx | monsta x | got7 + kard + amber | seventeen | 

#nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #yuta scenario #yuta imagine #yuta au #nct u scenarios #nct #nct 127 #yuta #yuta nakamoto scenarios #sfw #College!AU #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 imagines