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luvdsc · 4 years

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mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged.

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play.

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode.

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold.

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you.

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

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saby-chan · 3 years

Text

Fire Lord Ozai: A blood thirsty monster or the less fortunate “Zuko” of his generation?

Hello again and thank you as always for clicking and allotting some of your time to read my humble post! Since I’ve happened to notice quite an increase in posts lately regarding the controversial character and nature of the former Fire Lord, the now imprisoned fallen prince Ozai, and I’ve personally promised in my previous post that I will share my own analysis on him if people asked me to do so (which actually happened), I am here to deliver my own take on this very intriguing man’s character, while also building a potential past for him based on stuff gathered from the show’s cannon.

I would like to start this essay with what I find to be my favorite quote ever: ”Monster’s aren’t born, they are created.” ~ Naruto Uzumaki (Naruto) What I like about this quote soo much and find very inspirational is the truth it holds within its short, yet powerful message. We are often fast to judge a “book by the cover”, to reduce others to what we assume of them by their appearance or latest actions that we’ve seen them do, but never actually take a moment and wonder where they come from, if this person we soo harshly look down upon really has been this way since their very beginning?

I’ve come across many comments on social media related to ATLA, especially on YouTube videos on which people would throw with harsh comments such as “Aang being a coward for choosing to spare the villain just because they saw a dumb baby pic of them” or “Ozai is the essence of evil and even as a baby he’d been a monster”. I can’t help but wonder who hurt these people to make them be so cruel? Like, how messed up must you actually be to say that a baby, a friggin baby, is the embodiment of all evils? Or that a child was a coward for choosing to see his opponent’s last bits of humanity and opted to spare them?

Aang was soo morally conflicted about the idea of killing Ozai not only because it contradicted the morals of his people, but because he himself understood that this man hadn’t always been the cruel beast he came to met in their first and final showdown. It’s important to note here the fact that upon finding that picture, Aang was actually convinced it had to be Zuko as a baby since it looked so innocent and cute and was actually surprised to learn it was Zuko’s father. And that’s the thing, Ozai was born like us all as an innocent and sweet baby. Babies aren’t in any way evil or twisted, they don’t even have the notion of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ defined in their small, still developing minds. In fact, the very choice of the creators to add this picture in the show is meant to tell us this very thing: this man wasn’t always like this. But if he wasn’t always like this, then what happened to make him become this way?

Well, in order to find out the reason, we must go back in time to the very beginning: Ozai’s childhood and upbringing. For this next part I am going to solely focus on the show cannon, as the comics aren’t the products of BryKe and have a lot of inconsistencies to the source’s cannon (you can go and read my other post on why they fail when it comes to Zuko’s character and his family).

From what we know and can easily deduce by ourselves just from their appearances, Ozai and his brother Iroh have a huge age gap between them (somewhere between 10 and 15 years). This has to be our first red flag: isn’t it soo odd that this family opted to have their children at such a long distance between pregnancies? It almost feels as if Ozai hadn’t actually been part of his father’s actual family planning... In other words, he was a ‘mistake’ child (I actually hate having to use this terminology, but it will become relevant to when we expand on Azulon’s relationship with his sons). Sure, some may argue that Azulon actually decided to have two sons in case something were to happen to his first born, but wouldn’t it have been more logical to have his second born at 2-3 years max distance from his first? Why choose to have your second child when you are much older and thus risk having a baby with issues, if your sole purpose of this child is to serve as an insurance that you don’t ‘run out’ of heirs? It just doesn’t make much sense, so let’s go for the moment with the possibility that Ozai was an unplanned pregnancy.

This perspective actually gives way to another very interesting aspect: remember the infamous “Born lucky...Lucky to be born” quote? What if I tell you that there is a possibility that this quote wasn’t Ozai’s personal wicked invention, but actually something he himself heard from his very own father? It had been puzzling me for a long time why he choose to say “You were lucky to be born” to Zuko, which implies that Zuko wasn’t supposed to exist. I mean, it’s soo odd that Ozai went with something implying that Zuko was an unplanned pregnancy, since Zuko was the first born. So my theory is that maybe Ozai wanted to convey a different message to Zuko when he said that quote, but due to his anger he ended up replicating the same line he received from Azulon at some point in his childhood. We never got the exact flashback when the line was delivered from Ozai to Zuko, so we don’t have the exact context that lead to it (remember, we are excluding Yang’s take on the matter from the comics).

I mean, this feels like something that wicked old Azulon would have said to his least favorite child. Okay, so let’s go with the scenario that Ozai was an unwanted child, to which we could also add the possibility that Ilah’s health deteriorated after the first birth, which makes plausible the family’s initial decision of stopping at 1 kid.

Moving on, we know from the old ATLA character wiki’s that Ozai’s character design was made with Zuko in mind, being meant to be a grown up version of Zuzu, without the scar. An interesting choice indeed and even Iroh’s letter to Zuko on Ozai from one of the ATLA books describes Ozzy in a similar way to teenage Zuko in book 1: stubborn, feisty, determined and with a volcanic personality (easy to anger and competitive), so it means that these were intentional choices to imply that Zuko and his father are more similar than we were led to believe at first glance. Maybe Ozai was the “Zuko” of his generation. Also, in one of the interviews on the royal family, BryKe stated that Ozai worked very hard to get where he is in book 3, referring to his firebending specifically (we all know how Ozzy got the throne, so clearly, he didn’t “work hard” for that), so maybe he wasn’t always the strongest man alive, with the most exceptional firebending skills out there, like Azula who showed ease in her learning, but rather someone closer to Zuko’s weaker performance as a child, building his way to success through endless hard work until he became the prodigy we know today.

Continuing with our theoretical scenario, after his birth, the second child show’s lesser skills compared to his brother Iroh (by that I don’t mean that he wasn’t gifted at all, but that maybe Ozai wasn’t as fast and great of a learner like his big bro), so Azulon opts to just ignore him and continue focusing solely on his golden child. In my headcannon I actually think that Ilah survived the birth and so she was left in charge of the younger child’s education and upbringing. At this point Iroh is already 10 or older, so he is forced to focus on his development, which prevents him from spending time with his lil brother, but just for the sake of being positive, let’s assume that Ozai still had both his mother and his big brother to keep him sheltered from Azulon’s darkness for a small portion of his childhood.

I choose to believe that Ozai had his mother’s love for a small bit of his childhood due to his willingness in the show to allow Ursa (who mind you, as the granddaughter of Roku was considered a treacherous individual) to spend a ton of time with both Zuko and Azula and share her philosophy with the children, as seeing his wife playing with their children probably reminded him of his own bitter-sweet memories he had with Ilah. They also probably spent a lot of their time near the turtle-duck pond since that pond’s existence prolly dates long before Ozai and Ursa married and had their own children.

Unfortunately, Ilah dies and little Ozai remains all alone, to be influenced negatively by his father (and even by his grandpa Sozin, we don’t really know for certain when the old man died, so he prolly was there for a short time when Ozzy was still a child). Azulon most likely blames Ozai for his wife’s death as the second birth might’ve really had a huge toll on Ilah’s already fragile body, bringing her closer to death, so he still neglects and ignores the child, if not straight out bullies and abuses him for not being on par with Iroh. This prolly leads to Ozai becoming jealous of his brother since Iroh has their father’s love, pushing them further apart. I headcannon that this jealousy between the siblings led to Ozai complaining to his dad when he finally had too much of their father’s discrimination (at a similar age to when Zuko prolly did and got the infamous line, if not younger) only to get the “Iroh was born lucky, you were lucky to be born!” line with the sole purpose of hurting him since now the child knows that he was never wanted.

When Azulon scolds very furiously adult Ozai in Zuko’s memories for daring to ask to be named crown prince, he literally says something like “What, you dare ask me to betray MY own son?!” (this is like red flag number two), line that pretty much testifies how Azulon chose to pretty much treat Ozai as if he wasn’t his son too, showcasing how much he despised his second born and favored the first child over him. Since we are on the topic of their last conversation, the punishment Azulon gave to his son alone proves this man’s level of sadism, which leads me to be believe that Ozai’s childhood was full of this type of punishments for bad behaviors that could be easily corrected trough a long serious lecture or a lesser punishment focused more on teaching him an actual lesson.

The old wikis also mention on the page about the hall with portraits of the previous Fire Lords that it was the place where Ozai chose to spend most of his time in his youth, seeking advice from his ancestors. I mean, seriously now, if he had a good and supportive father and a present brother in his life, would Ozai had chosen to seek guidance from the dead instead of his living family? That piece of information that was easily overlooked by many proves how lonely this man was in his youth.

So for the most part of his life, Ozai grew up under the toxic influence and abuse of his tyrant father who refused to acknowledge him. Yet he managed to grow up still full of determination to one day prove his worth to Azulon and gain his acceptance (just like we saw with Zuko in book 1, who was desperate to regain his honor and be accepted by his father). But unfortunately, no matter how strong he became or how good of a firebender he was, Azulon was unmoved and unphased by his second son’s performance.

From what we could gather from the little info we received in the show, it seems that Ozai was never sent to the battle field to aid his older brother, being kept as a stay home prince, with the only occasion he actually left home being to search for the Avatar (I don’t think Iroh was sent to do his part on searching the Avatar since he strongly believed that there wasn’t going to ever be one, so it’s safe to assume Azulon assigned Ozai with this mission just to get rid of him for a few years) and the only purpose he ever served to his father was to become part of the old man’s genetics experiment in order to create strong unparalleled firebending offspring (which I am pretty sure were meant to be ‘biological war machines’ used by Azulon in the war, as he didn’t really seem to give a shit about Ozai’s children compared to Lu Ten). So just imagine the level of disappointment and dishonor Ozai must’ve felt as a man and young aspiring soldier to find out that he was going to be used like a ‘non-bending daughter’ in a strategical marriage and never get to serve his country in what he’d been taught was the greatest and most important war for their Nation.

All in all, this marriage didn’t really end up that badly because it seems he and Ursa were actually very compatible. The old wiki for Ursa states that she was a noble woman and the perfect match for Ozai, which leads me to believe that show Ursa was intended to be a very strong willed and determined woman who earned his respect. The show never stated that Ozai never wanted his first born or that he was disappointed with Zuko from birth like the comics say, so it’s safe to assume that Ursa and Ozai actually ended up falling in love at some point since they had not one, but two kids with relatively a short time in between pregnancies.

There are actually many signs in the show that actually prove that these two loved each other and Ozai didn’t abuse his wife: from the fact that they went every year to see Ursa’s favorite play despite Ozai hating the poor performance of the Ember Island Players (I mean, what man would do such a sacrifice as to endure the same torture every single year just to make his wife happy if he never loved her?), Ursa’s undeniable and sincere love for their children (in the show it was never stated that Ursa saw Zuko and Azula as someone else’s children, so if she were indeed an abused woman who was forced to have these children, she wouldn’t have ever loved them to such an extent, especially Zuko who resembled his father the most physically), the fact that Ursa had equal rights in their marriage and raising of their children (her even scolding and grounding Ozai’s favorite child without hesitation), to the most significant scene to the Urzai ship in Zuko’s flashbacks: Ozai sitting troubled all alone in Ursa’s favorite spot by the pond, in a sad and brooding atmosphere, after he lost her, instead of celebrating what had to be the happiest day of his life since he was finally crowned Fire Lord (it’s clear who had more importance in his heart: Ursa meant more to him than the throne, so losing her outshined his achievement). In fact, Ursa must’ve been the only thing that still kept him outside of the darkness that threatened to swallow his heart and once he lost her, Ozai had nothing else to keep him on the right path.

And even as a father, it seems that Ozai wasn’t always cold and distant to his children, as his true self depicted in Zuko’s memories on Ember Island shows him caring for both of his children, even holding Zuko close to him with a protective arm on the boy’s shoulder. Except the Agni Kai, there don’t seem to be any instances in which he was physically violent towards his son before the banishment (Iroh literally let Zuko in to join that faithful war meeting willingly. Would’ve he done that if he knew his brother to be very violent towards his children in case they disobeyed? If yes, then it would make Iroh actually very questionable on a moral standpoint) and even on an emotional level, I don’t really think that he was actually abusive to him (at least while Ursa was there) because from Zuko’s conversation with Zhao, he’s adamant that his father will take him back and even states "You don't know how my father feels about me. You don't know anything!", meaning that the father he used to know showed him a level of respect and genuine affection (if Ozai were to bully Zuko since the boy’s very early childhood, do you think this kid would grow up to be so sure that his father wants him around and would he defend this bully when someone badmouths them in front of him?).

Even with Azula, despite people demonizing her from early childhood and saying that she was manipulated since birth by Ozai to become a war machine, I do believe that she shows genuine love and affection towards her father. I do choose to believe that back in the good times when the family was happy, Ozai spent quality time with his daughter, filling in the gap left by Ursa’s neglect. I theorize that the reason why kid Azula badmouthed her grandpa and uncle was because she was being very protective of her father: since she used to like spying and eavesdropping, it’s safe to assume that she prolly witnessed many instances in which the old man bullied or insulted Ozai, favoring Iroh over him. It’s a bit harder to see it that way since her snarky comments involve dark topics, but since they live in a society governed by power and war, I see them as something similar to if Azula would’ve said “Uncle sucks and he will surely be fired from his job!” or “Grandpa is old and weak, he should leave the family business to dad!”. Even the fact that the only thing capable of shattering her to pieces was her father leaving her proves how much she cared for him. Ty Lee and Mai’s betrayal was a big blow on Azula’s control and sanity, but she didn’t breakdown until Ozai discarded her after his coronation as Phoenix King. There’s nothing more painful in this world than to be left behind by the person you loved the most and was there by your side your whole life, whom you wanted to follow to world’s end and back. That was the moment Azula finally realized that the father she used to know and love was actually gone and had been in fact, long gone for years at this point.

But if Ozai cared for his family what made him change? Easy, it all comes back to the fact that his father never acknowledged him. The throne doesn’t seem to be his ultimate goal in life since Ozai discarded of the Fire Lord title very easily, tossing it to Azula without any remorse or hesitation. It was more about the meaning behind getting the crown: replacing Iroh in the line of succession was the ultimate proof of his father’s acceptance, that he wasn’t only a “mistake” and “failure” in his father’s eyes, but since Azulon ended up saying and doing what he did, backfired Ozai and made him understand that no matter how hard he tried, the old man will never see him for what he is. So yeah, for a proud man like Ozai this was a hard defeat to swallow, which in turn sparked his strong desire of winning the war and becoming the king of the world: if Azulon wouldn’t accept him even in death, then Ozai will prove to the whole world that he was above his father and his “perfect” brother by accomplishing what they never could and even better and no one was going to stop him, not even his own family.

This is what differentiates Ozai from Zuko: while both had similar upbringings, Ozai never broke away from his obsession of gaining his father’s admiration, allowing himself to fall prey to the darkness left by Azulon in his heart and abandon his true self, only to become the copy of his abuser, while Zuko stood up to his dad and chose his own destiny. If Aang were to come back around 20 or 30 years earlier, then he might’ve actually been able to save Ozai just like he saved Zuko, but unfortunately it wasn’t this way.

Do I think that Ozai could still be saved and redeemed even after the events of book 3? Definitely! Since he’s actually a broken man and still has a tiny bit of humanity left within, I think he still has a chance to change his heart. The only thing is that it’d be a long lasting process: first off he needs to spend a long time in solitude and reflect on his life’s choices and his past, understand where he went wrong and that what happened to him in his childhood is called abuse, which he ended up replicating on his own children. After he understands his wrongdoings and becomes willing to rediscover his true self, he needs to understand the truth about the war, that everything he’d known was fake propaganda and that there was nothing glorious in what he, his father and Sozin did under the excuse of “sharing their Nation’s greatness with the rest of the world!”. But most importantly of all, the only remedy that could possibly save him is love. It sound cliche, but by responding to hatred with more hate like Zuko did in the comics would never change the world “for the better” or bring it “to reality”. The only way to save both Azula and Ozai would be trough showing them the power of love, hope and empathy, how they don’t have to struggle alone and push everyone away. And especially by redeeming Azula, she would be a very important piece in Ozai’s redemption: since he had a closer parent-child relationship with Azula and cared for her the most when he did care, realizing how much he made her suffer through his actions, that would probably break Ozai enough to make him admit that he was wrong all along.

So yeah, this is my analysis on Ozai’s character using the cannon information from the show and old wikis and why I think he is just the product of a very bad environment and an abusive parent who never showed him love (if there’s a reason for why Ozai might be uncapable of showing a healthy parental love to his children is because you can’t show what you’ve never learnt yourself), being the Zuko of his generation who never got to experience the positive influence of an “Uncle Iroh” to guide him on the right path.

You can agree with me or not on this one, but this is what I choose to believe. Maybe I am way too good by choosing to see any potential good in anyone, but I feel it’s a better way than to counter hate with more hate like Yang did in his monstrous portrayal of Ozai in The Search.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and if you agree with anything I’ve said, feel free to leave a like and to reblog this post.

See you next time and stay safe! Bye-Bye!

Saby out.

#atla #atla rant #avatar the last airbender #ozai #azulon #ursa #zuko #azula

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matchasprouts · 3 years

Text

Listen Closer - Chapter 5

[ can't stop won't stop. when will Lawrence not get cockblocked by Nar <///3 ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Luckily for all of them, Garrett did finish that furnace before the day was over. He managed to check the trigger on the fire right before passing out face down on his bed. He told them they’d just move it to the house in the morning.

It wasn’t morning when they moved it, but it got moved out of his room at the very least before he was running out to get to his real job. He was definitely going to be late, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with that giant machine in his living space anymore. Mark and Amanda could figure out how to get it to the house themselves.

“You’re late,” one of his coworkers teased as he clocked in and he just rolled his eyes. “And you look like shit. How do you live like this?” they continued, receiving a short glare from Garrett.

He didn’t necessarily hate his coworkers, but he wasn’t friends with them either. “Easily,” he replied shortly, leaving no more room for conversation as he clipped his nametag on his shirt and got to work.

Normally he wasn’t so short with them, but he was tired and wanted to get on with the day so he could help with the final preparations for the game.

The day went by quickly, especially because Nar remembered he had his phone number and would occasionally send him pictures of Amanda working, or a joking picture of Hoffman’s ass. He even received a picture of Lawrence ranting about something, probably a bad hospital show. Stuff like that always got him through the day.

“Is that your new boyfriend?” The coworker from earlier, Nadia, asked when they got a glimpse of one of the Hoffman ass pics. They backed off at the look Garrett gave them.

“No.” That was where he left it, putting his phone in his pocket and getting back to work. He was very lucky that Nadia didn’t get the chance to see him turn bright red at the mere idea of Hoffman being his boyfriend.

It was around 5pm when Garrett finally got off, practically running out of the bookstore and heading directly for his car. He was kind of aware of Nadia trying to talk to him as he sped out of the door, but didn’t care enough to stay put.

He was partly rushing so much because he needed to help finish the trap, but mostly because right before his shift ended, he’d gotten a text from Nar:

‘help gordon is trying to walk and idk what to do, he’s just hobbling around with his lil prosthetic help-’

He TOLD Gordon to wait until he could help him, and now he was speeding toward the base, two miles away from being pulled over for how fast he was driving. Plus there was the fact that the other two apprentices weren’t supposed to know about him, according to John, and the picture attached to the text showed him one of the main work rooms.

Fucking idiot, Gordon was supposed to be smart and here he was, being the dumbest bitch in the Jigsaw house, stepping way too close to getting killed.

---

… Apparently the other apprentices weren’t home.

Amanda was already at the Nerve Gas House to help with finishing touches, and Hoffman was at the precinct to “help” with the newest Jigsaw case, meaning Gordon was not in danger of being killed.

Garrett still scolded him.

“I can’t believe you!” He hissed as Gordon leaned into his side, trapped by the arm across his back and the hand placed on his midriff. “I told you! I told you not to try to move around without my help! You know Nar can’t support your weight!!”

Gordon just chuckled at him, the gravelly sound just pissing him off more rather than flustering him like usual.

“Lawrence!! This isn’t a joke!!! I’m genuinely worried about your dumb ass!!!!” Garrett continued, his voice slightly more high pitched in annoyance. Gordon just laughed at him again, making him huff as he practically dragged the doctor back to his room.

It was when he was finally sat down that Gordon said something. “I know you’re worried, but I wasn’t going to call you out of work just so I can walk around.”

“Wh- That’s what I expected you to do!!” Garrett countered, almost offended at the idea that Gordon thought his job was more important than him. “You literally can’t walk without help, and you’ve been bedridden for months! You don’t even have a cane yet!”

Gordon was just watching him at this point as he continued to list off reasons he should have been called, a small smile on his face at how animated Garrett got when he was passionate about something.

“... Why are you staring at me like that?” Garrett asked once he noticed Gordon’s gaze, his hands frozen midair in one of his wild gestures.

“You called me Lawrence.” Garrett’s eyes widened, he hadn’t even noticed. “And I like listening to your voice. I know you’re busy, but I wish you would visit more often, even if it was just to talk.”

Bro stop you’re scaring the hoes with attachment issues who are afraid of relationships (Garrett).

“Wh- I don’t-” Garrett’s stammering was cut off by Gordon’s lip suddenly connecting with his, and he mentally cursed himself for almost immediately melting into it.

The kiss didn’t last long because Gordon had stood up to reach Garrett, and he pulled back to sit back down on the bed, but that didn’t last long either.

As if he’d been waiting for it his whole life, Garrett practically lunged at the doctor, pulling him into another, slightly more desperate kiss. His hands were gripping Gordon’s shirt hard enough that it would definitely be forever wrinkled like that, and he was pretty much in the other man’s lap.

He was worried he was coming off too strong for all of two seconds, the concern dissipating when Gordon’s hands found his hips, holding him there in a tight grip.

Garrett had just begun to thread his fingers through Gordon’s hair- two seconds away from pulling at it- when there was a knock on the door.

Both of them jumped, Garrett shooting back like he’d been shocked. “I forgot we weren’t alone,” he whispered to Gordon, gaining a soft laugh from the doctor. Both of them took a moment to put themselves back together (when had Gordon started unbuttoning Garrett’s shirt?) before answering the door.

Nar glanced between the two of them, seemingly surprised that they looked like they had when they went in- luckily, the room was dark enough to conceal their flushed faces and Garrett’s very red lips.

“You done yelling at him?” he asked Garrett, who nodded in reply. “Good. John wants you at the Nerve Gas House, he wants you to set up the razor box.” Right. Garrett had forgotten about that.

He took one last glance at Gordon before sighing. “I’m so sick of that box,” he muttered, though he accepted his fate and headed out in far less of a frenzy than before. To be completely honest, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to finish what he started with Gordon. But… the others needed his help, and he needed to give it.

That didn’t mean he didn’t spend the whole drive there thinking about the feeling of Gordon’s lips on his, and what else he could do to the good doctor the next time they were alone.

---

“Does that look good?” Garrett asked Hoffman once the razor box was attached to the ceiling, taking a few steps back to stand next to the detective.

He’d been having trouble with getting the box to hang evenly, which was a struggle he was no stranger to, so he’d brought Hoffman in to take a look at it.

The detective tilted his head slightly to the side as he inspected it, before letting out a soft hum. “You finally got it,” he confirmed, straightening back up. He didn’t flinch when Garrett let out a triumphant whoop, which was proof that one could get used to him quickly.

“You’re a godsend,” Garrett told him, slapping him on the shoulder before leaving the room, running down the hall to tell John and Amanda the good news. He could hear Hoffman following him, but absolutely did not slow down.

He skidded into the main room where John and Amanda were going over the plan for the thousandth time, almost tripping over his own foot and sending himself crashing into the ground. His only saving grace was Hoffman grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him back onto his feet.

John and Amanda stared at him like he was crazy for all of two seconds, before completely ignoring the fact that he almost just curbstomped himself into the floor. “I finally got the razor box straight,” Garrett spoke up, also acting as if he did not almost just die. “All my traps are good to go. Now, I desperately need sleep, so I’m gonna go home and take a two hour nap.”

He wasn’t. He was going to go back to his apartment and frantically draw up plans until he passed out from sleep deprivation at 2am. That was his permanent Jigsaw trap, one he could never escape from.

Wow. That was the most emo thought he’d had since middle school.

“Anyway. Good-bye.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the house, but not after patting Hoffman- who had still been awkwardly standing behind him- on the chest, slipping a piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

What was on it, you ask? A gay little doodle of Hoffman setting up the door gun. Why did he give it to him? He doesn’t know how to flirt. This is the best he’s got.

He went straight ‘home’ after that, a little annoyed he couldn’t go back to the base but also knowing that his neighbours were weirdly nosy and would “get concerned” if he didn’t show up to his apartment regularly.

Plus, his couch there was a really comfortable bed.

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️#s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman #romantic: 🦿🩺#(poly) romantic: ⛓🩺#lawrence gordon #chapter 5

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thenakedgingerwrites · 4 years

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My Personal Trainer

I met Nick five months ago when he became my personal trainer. I joined the gym in the summer to finally work my body towards my personal goals. I had been skinny all my life and knew that if I wanted to change it I would have to get serious. Five months of 3-5 workouts a week and heavy carb/protein loading I was pushing towards my goal. I was up 20 pounds of muscle and my progress pics were really showing obvious changes. I of course had taken photos every step of the way, but hadn't really shared them with anyone until recently. Nick and I had our weekly Monday appointment scheduled. Today was chest day for me and he pushed me hard through it. I was actually pretty lucky getting Nick as my trainer. He was attractive but not instantly my type. It was easier to get a solid workout in if I wasn't drooling over my trainer the entire time. Nick was probably 5'11. He had a lot of muscle but was rounded since bulking season had set in. His arms were massive, chest was broad, and butt (from what I could tell) was quite a bubble. His legs were probably the most underdeveloped part of him but they weren't thin by any means. Definitely thicker than mine. Nick was pale but had clear, unblemished skin. His hair was dark and kept short. In fact sometimes his beard would get longer than his hair before he trimmed everything up. He was one of the few trainers that didn't seem to shave everything. His legs and arms had a nice layer of thick dark hair.

I tried not to fantasize about him but couldn't help the occasional naughty thought, especially when he would demonstrate squat formations or anything that popped his butt. However, I really tried to keep things professional. No harmless flirting or ogles were done by this guy. Nick figured out I was gay probably 2 months into our routine. It didn't phase him at all and things continued as normal. He would occasionally ask about my personal life, if I was seeing anyone, and I'd ask the same. We were both helplessly single but he was straight so there were no possibilities there. I didn't shower at the gym since I lived so close and Nick always did his workouts in the afternoon before I arrived. What this meant is that I'd never even seen the guy shirtless. The most skin I'd ever seen on the man was his calves, arms, and occasional upper thigh depending on the workout. His body was still a mystery, and that was probably a good thing for me. That all changed in the 4 month mark. We were talking after my workout and just shooting the shit. He asked if I had taken progress pictures and I explained I had, but wasn't quite ready to share. Maybe one day, I told him. He understood, but offered up his own. He flipped through his phone and then handed it to me. "Don't flip too much though," Nick said with a nervous laugh. He obviously had nudes on his phone. Of him or of someone else I wondered? The screen was zoomed in to a 3 picture side-by-side, each 6 months apart. I should probably mention that it was his neck down in nothing but some tight underwear. My eyes must have bulged. His body was amazing. I mean he definitely was a 'round' muscled guy but that was absolutely my type. His chest had a light dusting of dark hair which picked back up around his belly button and continued south, growing in intensity until it was hidden below his waistband. He kept his body hair trimmed but definitely all there. I couldn't help but focus on his package. Fuck keeping things personal, I thought. The pictures weren't amazingly lit, but I could easily see the large bulge in his briefs. Whether it was cock, balls, or both I couldn't tell. Whatever it was though, it was hefty. "... and if you blend that all together, it makes a wicked easy meal with tons of calories." Oh shit! I had completely zoned out while looking at his pictures. Quick, say something. "Well it's working out really well for you Nick. This is great progress. I'd be happy with any of them, honestly." Nick laughed. "Like, for your own body or as in your boyfriend?" It had seemed innocent enough but a million thoughts were running through my head. "Umm, well I meant for my own body, but if I was lucky enough to snatch someone up with a body like yours, I'd hold on tight." Nick just gave a cheesy grin and said thanks. We talked for a few more minutes about our weeks and what I would focus on while at the gym. Unfortunately, that night I jacked off thinking about those photos. The next night, I texted Nick telling him how raw I was from the workout yesterday and he responded with the picture he showed me. "Pain builds progress" he wrote with it. That week I did nothing but masturbate to that photo. The slippery slope had started and there was no turning back. Another month went by without much significance except how I looked at Nick. He was no longer just my personal trainer, he was now an object of my lust. Every workout he showed me I couldn't help but turn it dirty in my mind. I was losing it. We had hung out a few times outside of the gym. It had always been with a bunch of the gym staff for a game or just a night out in downtown. I got a text on Saturday morning asking if I wanted to hang out and drink some beers. His roommate was out of town and he wanted to enjoy the apartment to himself while watching the football game. I agreed, trying not to fantasize about unrealistic outcomes. When I got there he was basically in gym attire. I felt a bit dressed up in my nice jeans and button up shirt but oh well. We drank while watching the game, Nick drinking much faster than me. Near the end of the 3rd quarter, it was obvious our home team was going to win and interest in the game subsided. We talked about the gym, work, girls, guys, and continued to drink. I was getting tipsy at this point but Nick was sufficiently drunk. "When are you gonna show me your progress photos, man?" Nick asked me. He actually didn't need to beg much. The alcohol helped, but it only felt fair knowing how much I'd stared at his almost naked body. "Eh, I'll show you. Remember, I was SKINNY. Don't make fun." "I would never! Plus you've grown so much. I'm so proud!" He was smiling ear to ear. It made me swoon a little. I flipped through my phone to get the most recent. It was my 5 month comparison photo. Nothing too crazy. Just standing in front of the mirror flexing one arm in my underwear. I wore skimpy briefs but it was nothing x-rated. I had clearly changed. My ribs were no longer visible and every muscle and it's own definition. Where a flat chest had been there were now pecs. Where a stick arm was there was muscled girth. "Wow! I'm so impressed; you've changed more than I imagined." "Thanks Nick." I was genuinely appreciative of his compliments. "Although, you need to get better at posing." "What?" Nick continued, "You're not showing off the right muscles in these. Like, you've grown a lot in your back but you can't tell in these." "Oh, haha. I didn't realize there was an art to gym selfies." I chastised him a little sarcastically. "There is!!" Nick was drunkenly serious. This was clearly a subject he was passionate about. "Okay, how do you feel about practicing some?" "Sure, that's fine." I said. "You'd have to take off those clothes though to see what I mean." Nick was very direct. I played along, my mind secretly hoping for something like this or more. "That's fine. You would too, right? To show me?" "Yeah, yeah. Obviously." With that Nick stripped. There was no romantic tease to it. This was clearly just what Nick said it was and nothing more. In a few seconds he had peeled out to just his tight boxer briefs. I stood there for longer than I should have because he cleared his throat and said, "you're turn." I quickly snapped back to reality and disrobed as well. I wore my tight AussieBum red briefs tonight just in case something like this happened. What can I say, I'm a planner. "Nice briefs man." Nick offered. "Nice body." He laughed. "Okay, so the first pose is really to show off your Lats and all the work you've been doing on your back." He walked through a couple poses and I imitated him. He would correct me a few times and move my arms or body in the right way. I was really proud of myself for not popping an erection at all with the contact. Minutes passed and things started to get warm in the living room from all our flexing and holding poses. Nick offered to take some photos for me on my phone and I happily agreed. They would be much better than selfies. After taking some photos Nick asked if I would do the same. I obviously agreed. We got to a pose that Nick wanted to try to accentuate his butt. He stood sideways to the camera and twisted his torso towards the lens to accentuate the roundness of his bubble butt. I took a few photos, wishing they were on my phone instead. "Does it look good? Does my butt look good?" He asked me. "It looks incredible Nick. Easily one of the hottest asses I've ever seen." I didn't really think about what I was saying anymore. We were both getting drunk by this time. "Coming from you that means a lot, thanks!" Nick replied with a cheesy smile. "Hey, I kind of want to get some more but without my briefs. Is that okay?" "You want me to take your nudes for you?" I sarcastically asked. Probably should have played that differently. He laughed loudly, "No! I can take my own dick pics thank you. I'll still cover the goods up, I just want some sexier ones without underwear." "Sure, why would I mind?" Nick shrugged, "I dunno, just wanted to make sure, ya know?" He turned around to slip his briefs off. His butt, was amazing. Two large globes of muscle sat atop his legs. They were dusted in his dark fur but he kept his butt trimmed as well. He went through the same poses but was really good at covering up his cock with either his legs or his hands. As much as I wanted to, I never actually saw what he was packing other than some heavy pubes. When Nick felt he had enough shots, he plopped down onto the couch. He grabbed his briefs and placed them over this crotch but didn't actually put them on. He asked for his phone and flipped through the photos when I handed it to him. He was clearly pleased with the photos. "Is it bad that I find myself hot?" he asked. I laughed, still standing there in my underwear. "No. Is it bad if I do?" Oops. He looked up at me. "You think I'm hot?" I didn't know what to do. I scrambled to find words that would make this alright but the drunken haze was cast over my thoughts. "Well, never mind. That answers that question." Nick was looking down on me. I followed his eyes to see my obvious erection in my briefs. Shit!! I covered up quickly and turned from him. That's when he started laughing. "Don't worry about it dude. I'm flattered. Can't say I've given a guy a hard on before. Nice to know I can." "Ha, ha" I said sarcastically, still trying to will my cock to shrink. "Really, it's not a big deal. Come'on. Come here and help me figure out what shots are the best. You'll clearly have an eye for what looks good here." I looked over my shoulder and he was patting the seat of the couch beside him. I said Fuck it in my head and went to sit by him. My erection wasn't gone at all, but at this point in my life I wasn't really that shy about nudity anymore. A few minutes of flipping through shots and adding filters here and there, Nick asked me a question out of the blue. "So you really like cocks? Like, they look good to you?" "Yeah. Don't you like the look of your dick?" I replied. "Well yeah, but that's mine, ya know. I've never thought any other dick was nice." "I guess that's the difference in being gay," i laughed at that. Nick laughed too. "I guess you're right. But like, what exactly do you like about them?" I couldn't really explain it well after I thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure there's specific things or features I like about dicks and balls. It's just linked so closely with arousal that even seeing one triggers so much sexual endorphin release in me. And it's a muscle that can't hide sexual feelings, as we've clearly seen tonight. I like how honest cocks are." Nick lost it at that. "Hahaha, you like how 'honest' cocks are! That's a new one." "I'm a sucker for an honest dick, what can I say?" I laughed with him. Nick put his phone down. "Okay, then tell me. Do I have an honest dick?" He pulled his briefs off his cock. I stared without caring how obvious I was being, plus I assumed that's what he wanted. His cock was awesome. It was still pretty soft, cut, and pretty thick from what I could tell. However, it was his balls that was giving the bulging briefs in his photos. They were massive. He kept almost all his hair closely trimmed but Nick shaved his balls. "It's um... it's... honestly awesome. Nick, your balls are huge!" was all I could put together. "Haha, yeah. They've been big since I was a teenager." He handled them with palm and moved them around a bit. I swore I saw his cock twitch a bit too. "So, this is hot to you? Like, you actually think my cock and my balls are sexy?" "Do you need reassurance?" "No, no. It's just, I'm trying to figure it out. I'm.. I just can't believe someone would find someone else's dick hot." "Well, I could prove it to you." I offered. "Oh yeah? How?" Nick said. He's not a very good actor and it seemed obvious where this was going. I played it safe though and went with another slow tell. I moved my hand to his thigh. "I could show you how much I like your cock." Nick smiled. "You may have to. I still think you're fibbin'" "I would never lie," I joked. I moved my hand the extra few inches to his soft package. It felt even bigger in my hands. I had to skip to his balls first though since they were so incredibly. I moved them around and massaged them with my fingers. I would pull on them a little bit and stretch the skin which elicited light moans from Nick. I felt adventurous for a few reasons and leaned in. I kissed his balls, first lightly, and then heavier with some wet tongue. Nick moaned more. I continued to kiss and lick his balls while loosely gripping his cock. It was filling up quickly. A few seconds later, he was hard in my hand. I backed up from his balls to take a look at his meat. It was thicker than I thought. Probably 6 inches or so in length but probably the same around. It was the hottest cock I'd ever seen. I looked up to Nick just to reassure myself it was him and that this was honestly happening. He caught my eyes and just whispered, "Please don't stop." Oh that made me wet. I got down onto the floor and moved in between his legs. I took hold of his shaft and licked that cock from base to head like a popsicle. It was delicious. He had already started to precum a little for me. I wasn't in the mood to tease and went right into it. I took as much of Nick's cock into my mouth as I could. He wasn't super long but the girth prevented me from taking him all in on the first go. As I sucked with his member filling my mouth, Nick's light moans evolved to deep rumbling groans. He was loving this which made me even hornier. A couple of bobs was all it took for me to get most of him in my throat. After that I could try my different techniques (which were admittedly rusty). I swiveled my tongue around his head, used my hand to match pace with my mouth, and used a little teeth on the retract. Nick was loving each skill and would buck uncontrollably at some. I was surprised what a gentleman he was. He didn't try and grab my head to face fuck me (although I would have been fine with it) and made it very audible how much he appreciated what I was doing. "Fuck yes. That feels so good. You're amazing. You're incredible. Please don't stop." were the only things he could muster between groans. It only took a couple of minutes before Nick's balls began to tighten. I knew he was getting close. He finally did take hold of my head, but to remove it and saying, "I"m about to cum, man." What a fucking knight. "Good," I said and fought against his grip to latch back onto his cock. He tried to pull me off him again, "No, you really don't have to do that. I don't want you to feel like you do." I continued to stroke him with my hands as I popped off to say, "You don't know what it's like to be gay, but fact one, I WANT to do this." I batted his hands away and took his cock back into my wanting mouth. He just said, "oh god, oh god." over and over as he edged towards the finish line. Nick tried to hold back his orgasm as long as he could but finally he couldn't fight anymore. I took hold of his balls with a free hand as he erupted into me. His tank had definitely been full and I almost struggled to get it all down. Jet after jet of warm seed filled my mouth and was swallowed down. Nick tried to remain still but was bucking and shaking uncontrollably between his heavy breathing. When I was sure he was done, I milked him dry with a last squeeze and popped off his still hard cock. "So," I said, "believe me now that I actually like cock?" He tried to laugh but didn't have the energy. "That. Was. Amazing. I've never gotten head like that before. You're a master." I laughed. "Stand up," Nick said. I did as commanded and rose before him. I was still rock hard in my briefs, and had actually popped out a little on top. He put his hands on my ass and pulled me in closer. I had no words for what was happening, so I just went with it. He fondled me through my briefs for a bit, getting used to the feeling of a hard cock in close proximity to his body. He swallowed, and shucked my briefs to the floor. My cock sprang out and almost hit him in the face which he wasn't expecting and jumped back a bit. I couldn't help but laugh, "You're right to be scared. He bites." "You're huge, dude!" I was definitely longer than Nick. Around 8 inches, but not near as thick. And my balls were only average compared to his massive globes a few feet below. He hesitantly took hold of my cock with one hand and slowly stroked it. This was clearly more for him than it was for me. He was exploring what another man's cock was like and I didn't want to rush him through that. Plus it was incredibly hot to see him oaf around it like a foreign object. After giving me a slow, steady hand job for a few minutes he swallowed again and licked his lips. He inched closer and closed his eyes. I was now feeling bad about this. "Nick, stop. You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything." He finally looked up at me. "No, I know. I just, I want to see what it's like." "Okay, but go slow. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable and you can stop anytime." He was looking at my dick again and nodded. He inched close again and closed his eyes to lick my cock head. Once he had a taste he moved his tongue around in his mouth to figure out if he liked it or not. "It just tastes like, skin?" I laughed, "yeah, they don't come in different flavors." "I guess I just, I thought it would taste different." I explained to him that it can if a guy precums a lot, but that I didn't. My cock was a great 'beginners' cock. We both laughed a bit. He then took hold with one hand and tried to wrap his lips around my cock. He could, but didn't take too much into his mouth. He bobbed on my cock like he thought he should but only took an inch or two in at a time and without any suction. What should I have expected from a straight guy. However poor the actual blow job was going, it was Nick who was giving it and that was incredibly hot. I was loving every second of it regardless. I must have began to leak a bit because Nick pulled away with a slight disgust taste on his mouth.

"That's what I expected they tasted like." Nick said with some nervous laughter.

"Yeah, if you don't like that you definitely won't like the ending."

He looked visibly nervous. I leaned down and pushed him away from my cock. "You're done. I'm not letting you go any further. Thanks for trying."

He sighed some relief, "Thanks for letting me try. And for that amazing blow job you gave me. I just wish I could return the favor."

"Trust me Nick, I loved every minute of that probably as much as you did." We both smiled.

"Well, do you wanna shoot on my chest?" Nick said.

I froze for a second and then began dying of laughter.

"What? People do that right?" Nick looked at my confused.

"Hahahaha, sure Nick, sure they do. But rarely does a straight guy just go, 'hey wanna cum on my chest?' It was just too funny."

He leaned back and rubbed his chest seductively, playing with himself a bit too. His cock had softened up almost entirely. "Do you wanna cum on this hot piece of man or not?"

I did.

I leaned into him and put one arm on his shoulder and the other on my cock. Nick just stared at the barrel of the gun in somewhat excited anticipation actually. Having this hunk below me, wanting my cum all over him, was enough to help me finish quickly. My balls tightened as the first blast shot forward onto his pecs. 8 steams of hot spunk fell onto Nick, coating his chest, abs, and cock in my cum. I sighed in relief.

"Hot." was all Nick had to say before we both started laughing.

We stayed there for a minute while I got my breath back and then he offered we take a shower. I rubbed his back, he rubbed mine. I probably washed his ass more than I had to but he didn't stop me or protest. By the end of the shower we both had erections again but heading into the living room he put on his briefs which signaled the nights fun was over.

We both fell asleep on the couch that night and I woke up spooning him in the morning. He was snoring. I got off of him and got the rest of my clothes on to leave. Before I left I looked back at this amazing, delicious man I had known for the past few months. He was sprawled out, chest up, almost naked in his tight white briefs. He had a serious case of morning wood going on that was clearly visible.

I felt naughty and probably was risking more than I should have, but I gave into the momentary idea. I got down on my knees and fished his cock and balls out of his briefs and gave them some light kisses. Nick continued to snore obliviously.

I took a step back to admire the view. I decided to take a picture of him like this for later use. I was going to put his junk back in but last minute decided instead to bob on it a couple times for one last taste and leave.

When I got home I felt guilty about the picture. I didn't want to delete it for obvious reasons but felt like I crossed a line. I decided to text him the photo with the caption "Had a great night. Took this souvenir. Hope you don't mind ;)"

That way if he wanted me to delete it he could tell me, but at least he would know that I had it.

I woke up from a nap to a response from Nick. "Likewise"

A few seconds later a video came through. I opened it and saw myself giving Nick head, his loud moans were close to the speaker. That little shit took a video of me blowing him without me knowing. The anger was only a reflex and I quickly found it hilarious that he captured that moment.

I texted him back, "That's blackmail!"

"Maybe it is. I need something to hold onto to remember last night."

"You could always just get the real thing again if you needed a reminder."

"Deal! Deleted."

"You don't really have to delete it, you can keep it for your own spank bank."

"haha good. I wasn't actually going to delete it anyway."

"lol, dick."

....

Bling. A picture of his hard cock and balls came through.

"This one?? ;P"

I was definitely jacking off today. "Tease!"

He replied, "I think we need to have a special work out session each week after our gym sessions. There are some special muscles we need to work out."

"Deal, see you Monday."

My training sessions had become something more, and I was absolutely, fucking floored about it.

#straight-to-gay #aware #vanilla

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agl03 · 4 years

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Finale Predictions

Well guys, it's been quite the ride and here we are ready for the finale. First and foremost I have to thank you all for sticking with me over the years. Sending the asks, supporting the theories, dealing with my sometimes crazy metas and predictions, that sometimes hit and sometimes didn’t. And trusting me to be the Fandom Mom.

As is now an annual tradition I’m putting up my post of Finale Predictions before going dark until after the finale airs. This is for fun as I always like to see how well I did. Please no pitchforks if I am wrong on any of these.

So here we go:

Everyone’s favorite villains, Nathaniel, Kora, and SIBYL will all make it to the finale while Garrett will be killed or locked up by the end of the first hour (and it will use some of Fitz’s tech).

SIBYL will eventually get herself a new body.

Nathaniel will turn on Kora and try to take her powers and/or kill her.

Kora has already turned on him and he/we just don’t know it yet. Either betrays him and helps her sister or tries to kill him herself in revenge for her mother. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Daisy will be the one to end Nathaniel and it will be oh so satisfying giant fight scene….even if we have to wait until the second hour for it. Bonus points if Sousa get a hit in first too

Coulson, May, and Elena are able to get to space thanks to Coulson’s new computer Genius Super Power OR Garrett is ordered to bring them so they can lord their victory over them all.

Even though they have pretty much ended Shield and Hydra in the “hot mess” timeline SIBYL and Nathaniel set their sites on the OG Timeline and/or Fitz once they realize he has come into the mix and ruins their plans in the hot mess timeline.. As they are both aware he is the one who ends their little party.

The Chronicoms will not all be super thrilled with what SIBYL has been up too or her methods. This could be another thing that drives SIBYL into the OG Timeline.

The battle between SIBYL and Coulson seems to have gotten a bit more personal so my money is on Coulson being the one to take her down. Close second goes to May and Fitzsimmons.

Diana didn’t only block Memories of Fitz it took out the memories of people associated with him. IE she is not going to remember her friends or Deke.

Deke will earn her trust quickly and be an A+ overprotective grandson of his Nana as they are rescued and get back to the team.

The team will rescue Deke and Jemma, take out a few Chronicoms, and Independence Day their way out of there.

While it won’t be the romantic Philinda some fans want we will see some quality Philinda banter over the finale as it seems they’ve settled into a good place between the two. Coulson has also passed the torch of “team parent” onto her.

Philinda will not end as a couple.

At some point Sousa is really going to question what is going on and his life choices. AKA He looks around stunned at what is going on.

More quality Dousy flirting and banter….they will kiss again and I do see them being a couple when things end.

Fitzsimmons family feels just a lot of them over the whole finale. Iain and Elizabeth are going to murder us with feels. I mean Fitz with his little girl. I shall perish.

Despite not knowing everyone Jemma is going to be super insistent on building or activating a device (that has been stashed on the Zephyr) that she doesn’t know what it does but just knows she needs to build and activate it. She will be the only one who can activate it and possibly it will take something very personal of hers to turn it on. IE how she was hiding Fitz’s ring/necklace in Season 6 she might have the key hiding again. But lets all freak out that Jemma will literally be the key to getting Fitz.

We won’t see Fitz until near the end of 12 if he is not the cliffhanger.

That Bar place in the promo pics is either Keonig’s Bar or the Playground of the hot mess Timeline. Seems to be some sort of secret Shield Base or what is left of them after the big attack as there are some random Shield agents milling/wth/who are these people in the background. We know The Playground was off the books in the OG Timeline and would make sense it was also in the Hot mess.

Jemma will have her memory resorted relatively quickly after Fitz Kool Aid Man’s in all Star Lord from the portal thing Jemma activates. And it’ll be the freaking power of her love for Fitz/her Family that overloads her (Gimme my Framework fix here). Or Fitzsimmons have a fail safe password. BUT GIMME TRUE LOVE.

CUE THE SECRET CHILD REVEAL!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I will be screaming. The team will be stunned.

I’m sticking to my theory that they will give their daughter a “celestial” or astronomical name to pay off “One of these days we’ll find something magnificent out in space,” thing from Season 3 (especially if she was conceived on the way back from Kitson). Or a name that is very reflective of their Scottish/English roots.

Everyone needs to hold onto their hats because once Jemma has her memories back it will be because they are gonna want to get home to their Little Girl like yesterday and have one hell of a plan that involves saving the world and taking care of Nathaniel, SIBYL, and the Season 6 Finale attack on the Lighthouse.

This is likely where a ton of the Flashbacks come in.

Where has Fitz been? He’s been back in our OG Timeline. The finale confirmation for me came last week when Nathaniel revealed that SIBYL’s time stream couldn’t see him….or their daughter, and that thing sees EVERYTHING in the HOT MESS Timeline. This would also be why Jemma’s messages didn’t reach him, she couldn’t get them to cross into the OG Timeline and this was something she would have known but Diana blocked as part of hiding where Fitz was.

How has Fitz been watching the Chronicoms? Insert incredibly complicated timey whimy thing the writers came up with that me and my Marketing degree can not fathom so just go with it okay, via the using the Framework in the OG Timeline to get into the Chronicom’s system. Little pay back for what SIBYL has been doing in the Hot Mess Timeline. Him being connected to the Framework explains why he was so exposed. Because when someone is hooked up to that thing they can get their heads cut off and not know it.

Now reunited and having dropped the baby announcement Fitzsimmons will present the plan for the “Final Mission” the team must embark on to save the world….again.

And oh baby is it complicated.

Part of said plan will have them back at the Lighthouse during the Chronicom attack.

The dudes that showed up with Jemma at the Temple will be explained. IE I think its some of the team and they cleared out of the Zephyr before the time travel party got started. They also may have grabbed other hunks of the monoliths.

The fight will take place in both the Hot Mess and OG Timelines

We have not seen the last of the Monoliths. The fact we are jumping timelines and have Flint in the mix over in the OG timeline makes me think they are gonna need Mr. Swirly’s help in doing said jumping (Mr. Swirly is the Grey Monolith). Or they really go with the OG and its Harold (Black Space one) that allows for it. Kind of fitting the Monolith that tore Fitzsimmons apart is now the one that reunites them.

We will for sure see Enoch (via Flashback), Davis (please not by Flashback #davislivesagain), Piper and Flint as returning Favorites.

If they have Davis back to life I just gesture exhaustedly at the Monoliths again. Not even gonna try to explain it.

Small chance we run into the Hot Mess’s Timeline Enoch but he will have no relationship or connection to the team and will make me cry.

Top Picks for SURPRISE not on the Press Release faces to pop up if we get them: Ward (I mean really how have we not seen him again yet), Mace, Robbie, Bobbi, Hunter, Koenig (any of them) and Mike. REALLY WANT IT BUT WON”T GET IT! Dadcliffe

Who was keeping Fitzsimmons Daughter safe:

Top Pick: Piper and Flint: Given Fitzsimmons would have run into them picking up the Zephyr and they could have been the “we had help” they talked about.

Second Place Because I Badly want him back: Uncle Enoch 2.0

Left Field Surprise Option: Huntingbird

LOLA RETURNS

We will get a lot of really fun callbacks to past stories or even lines IE “I’m just the Pilot” For May.

“What We Are Fighting For”: Family. The team family….and the Fitzsimmons family. Also they will have gone 13/13 in that someone will say the titles name at some point in the episode.

We will see old weapons and tech from previous seasons make one last appearance, we’ve seen 2 so far in promos and will see more.

Shotgun Axe gets a proper send off in battle (this one is for Kiddo 3)

Bear will deliver the most amazing soundtrack that we’ll never get to buy.

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story (Sorry Couldn’t Resist)

Nathaniel: Dies, and we will all cheer.

SIBYL: Dies, and we will all cheer.

Garrett: Dies or locked up, won’t make it to the second hour.

Kora: Toss a coin. If she dies she killed for trying to take down Nathaniel. If in her betrayal of Nathaniel she helps Daisy get Jemma and Deke back that could be a good starting place for the sisters to work thing out. Starting place, she has a long way to go to get in good with Daisy and setting up an 11th hour redemption arc.

Mack: Still so nervous for him based on how he has been in interviews, especially the SDCC ones last year. He was so clearly upset by it. So Mack either falls or does something so out of character (Bails before the finale battle which just is not making sense to me Mack is in such a good place right now) for Mack that Henry was upset by it. Essentially I am very confused because what I am seeing on screen now isn’t matching with how Henry was talking as Mack has really come around since his Endgame stage.

Elena: Easily lives. If Mack doesn’t die, wherever he lands she’ll be with him. They’ve been a steady ship all season and I see no reason for them to break up outside of death. And while I have a mountain of concerns for Mack, I have none for Elena.. I also see her still being a presence within Shield, she’s become a good solid agent, and bonus points if she keeps Flint with her….and he gets all the tacos he wants.

Sousa: Totally lives (they might give us a good fake out though because he and Daisy are becoming a thing)I can still see him being Director of Shield if Mack falls or steps down. He’s a good Agent in a new time but he said he is right where he is supposed to be, at Daisy’s side. Where she goes he goes. IE he’s not letting her get away and will always be there after she runs into a wall. So if Daisy leaves Shield, so will he. If she stays so will he. If she opens a coffee bar he’ll learn to make an espresso.

Daisy: Totally Lives, but there will be something about her ending that some fans won’t like and some fans are going to love. Staying with Shield or no whatever she does will involve Inhumans be it the Secret Warriors are up and running again, she is mentoring and training new Inhumans coming into Shield, or my favorite option still is she reopens Afterlife. I’ve been feeling that option for most of the Season and feel like it was really set up with Jaiying as was Daisy looking out for her little sister should the chips fall the right way. The SS Dousy will be sailing right along. IF Kora survives I can see her being in Afterlife as well, Daisy taking her mother’s passion that Kora has a good heart to heart herself.

Deke: Okay this one is weird because I feel like we are going to lose him somehow, but he won’t die. I didn’t get the vibe from Jeff, Elizabeth, or Iain that he died and those three are pretty tight. However, in that I don’t think I’m going to get my Fitzsimmons Family all settling down in a giant castle in Scotland together. They set up for him to make a sacrifice, he’s grown, and has something he’s really truly fighting for. I have loved seeing how close he and Jemma have gotten and how fiercely he’s protected her and her secret. Even in the face of torture he didn’t betray her. It will come as no surprise if he doesn’t sacrifice himself somehow. Either in taking a hit for his family or doing something similar to what he did in Season 5 to make sure they got home. Bringing things full circle. He also expressed that he wouldn’t mind being stuck in the hot mess timeline in ‘83. He built himself a nice life there and Nathaniel did a pretty good job of taking out Hydra...with just a bit of Shield hanging on. So if it comes down to it I don’t see him minding if he gets stuck there. Sure him saying goodbye to Nana and Bobo is gonna hurt like Hades but if he ends up alive, I’m good.

Fitzsimmons: Both live, yes they will scare the crap out of us more than a few times especially after we know about the daughter, but they will live. Totally peace out, we’ve done our time, leaving Shield with the adorable daughter and its Perthshire or Bust. They’ve sacrificed enough and will not be willing to risk it again.

May: Lives and reminds us all that she is one hell of a pilot. If Mack decides he wants to step down, dies, whatever I’ll throw her back in contention for Director, especially as I see Sousa Following Daisy if she leaves. Coulson seemed to have set her on that path and at the very least passed the “Team Parent” torch onto her, that it would be her job to give the Coulson talks to those who needed it. If she’s not Director, she’ll be whomever is right hand, or I still have that option for the Academy being up and running and she’s running that, training the next generation.

Coulson: Lives.I know SHOCKING. I think he was very ready to throw in the towel after spending 20 months in the TV but then Enoch’s moving words in his death were what changed his mind about ‘powering down” when this is all over. Coulson realizes that yes, while it is hard to be the one to leave it is harder for the ones that are left behind but it's also necessary that they move on, and live for those they have lost before. Like Sousa and Fitzsimmons, he’ll be another that they’ll fake out death a few times. I see him leaving Shield though, taking Lola and finally just going and seeing the world, watching the history he loves so much happen. We get to see him driving around or even off in Lola for the last time. Other options include he does something that will allow him to totally run with his new super computer super power. The final thing I can see him doing is being the coolest professor at the newly rebooted Academy.

Flint: Get’s his tacos.

Piper: Keeps being awesome.

Davis: Better live dang it.

Kiddos Predictions:

That weird device Jemma makes brings Fitz

Deke sacrifices himself for Fitz

Fitzsimmons and their kid have to leave Shield

Mack leaves shield

Fitzsimmons, Dousy, Mackelena all stay together

Daisy kills Nathaniel, Daisy needs to quake him up

May or Nathaniel will take out Kora. But if she survives we want Daisy to take her in.

Fitz takes down SIBYL

Piper is watching the Daughter

The daughters name is Olivia

Robo Coulson will sacrifice himself

GHOST RIDER HAD BETTER BE OUR SURPRISE CHARACTER (this was literally shouted at me). Kiddo 3 voted for PIkachu (Lincoln)

Have no idea what will happen to May

We will get a “flash forward” ending showing what the team that is still alive is doing

Flint gets his tacos

They save the team and have a full out war at some point in time

The episode is going to be super good

Mom is going to cry

Well there it is. We’ll check back in on Thursday to see how I did!

#aos spoilers #aos finale spoilers #aos finale predictions #one last time

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cycat4077 · 3 years

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Reunited

Summary: You reconnect with an old college friend only to find that your past comes back to haunt you. Set during summer 2016 (S17). Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: Mild cussing, some angst, some feelings and dialogue (sorry) Words: 3247 AO3 here

Part 8 of the Changes verse. Masterlist here if you're interested :) (Could probably read as a stand alone fic if you’re not into series.)

A/N: I really wanted to give my main character a friend and ‘Sydney’ popped into my brain. Also, do y'all remember back in 2015 when Sonny said he had an ex at the LAPD? Yeah, me too. So I took the liberty of using it :P Sorry this fic is kind of meh (On a separate note, the pic doesn’t necessarily mean the reader is blonde. I just thought a Sonny hug would be fitting!)

"Sydney?" you question, walking slowly up to the blonde who stands collecting her order at the campus coffee shop.

Immediately she spins on her heels and her face lights up with recognition. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaims, raising her arms to embrace you.

You and Sydney had graduated together from the master’s of education program; she, with a background in English lit and you, in biology. Despite being from different disciplines, you often worked on projects together and used your contrasting perspectives to bounce ideas between brains. As a result, Sydney became a close friend. But, as too often happens when people part ways, life whizzed by quicker than the two of you could stay in touch.

Now however, as you set foot on your new campus for a summer orientation workshop, you are thrilled to see a friendly and familiar face.

"What are you doin’ here, girl?!" she asks with the same enthusiastic energy you remember her for.

"New job!" you reply cheerfully.

"Ahh! That's awesome!" she squeals. "It'll be like old times! I've been in the English department for a few years now and I just love it."

You smile fondly. "I always knew you'd move back here.”

"Yup! You can take the girl outta the city…and all that stuff,” Sydney sweeps her silky locks behind her ear, “but I am surprised to see ‘little miss rural’ out this way!"

You raise your hands and shrug. "Me too! Though, opportunity knocked and I couldn't turn it down. Actually, this is my second teaching gig in Manhattan. I won't name names, but I got booted from my last one when a prof crawled out of retirement." You frown towards the ground, the wound still fresh.

"Bastards," Sydney mumbles under her breath. "That musta been rough, but I'm glad you're on the rebound." She offers you a hopeful smile. "You liking NYC then, since you ended up sticking around?" "It's alright. Different,” you admit. “I just moved in with my boyfriend though and he's slowly but surely converting me."

Sydney lets out another delighted squeal. During your college days she was always trying to get you to date. You told her about your past and she swore to avenge you. Unfortunately, her best efforts involved dragging you to parties and other social events where ultimately you ended up preventing her from making the bad decisions. Still, she cared about you and her genuine excitement over your relationship success makes you realize just how much you had missed her.

"I'm so happy for you! Is he cute? Is he smart? Does he work on campus?" She stretches her neck to look behind you as if Sonny is tucked away nearby.

You chuckle. "Nuh-no. He's an SVU detective. That's how we met actually." Her face falls with worry and you quickly elaborate. "I took a summer job there last year and we just clicked. He's really great." You smile proudly, stopping yourself from bragging Sonny too much.

"Aw, hon, I'm so excited for you!"

"Thanks! Hey, are you still with Geoff?"

"Hell no!" she fires quickly. "Caught that ess-oh-bee sneaking around behind my back so I kicked his ass to the curb. But it’s fine. I'm enjoying the single life and New York has just what I need!"

You smile. Same old Sydney. "Well, I'm glad you're all right and I'm thrilled we're here together! We have a lot of catching up to do! In fact, you should come by our place sometime."

"Absolutely! I'd love that!” she grins enthusiastically. “And that means I'd get to meet the man who swooped my shy science-nerdette off her feet!"

A blush creeps over your cheeks. "Did I mention he's an amazing cook?"

Sydney covers her heart like she's been shot. "You did now! So, I'll be holding you to a meal, you here me?" She glares playfully at you as she backs up towards the door.

You laugh and wave her goodbye. Sydney turns into her smiling self as she spins around and leaves.

-x-

"Wheh!" huffs the blonde standing in the doorway to your apartment. She’s just gotten her first glance at Dominick "Sonny" Carisi, Jr. "Ya didn't tell me he was such a looker!”

You swat her arm playfully. "Down girl."

"Hey there," smiles Sonny as he lumbers towards the front door. He's dressed himself in a pressed shirt and slacks for the occasion and he looks absolutely gorgeous. "I'm Sonny, nice ta meet ya," he continues, extending a hand in greeting.

"Ooh, Staten Island," she remarks, accepting his gesture. "Nice to meet ya too. I'm Sydney."

Sonny chuckles and points out her accuracy with a raised finger. "That Brooklyn I hear?" he counters.

"Sure is!" Sydney releases a laugh that’s as smooth and as charming as she is.

"Come on in," Sonny gestures towards your cozy little apartment. She steps forward, making herself at home just as she would always do when the two of you would visit somewhere new.

The evening transpires with a lovely dinner followed by story swapping, playing catch-up and allowing Sonny and Sydney to get acquainted. As the evening wears on however, an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach.

Of course, it's wonderful to have Sydney back in your life – she’s one of the few people with whom you had allowed yourself to really open up. But as you listen to her and Sonny talk about growing up in the Boroughs, it's hard not to feel just a little out of place. There's so much you don't understand. So much that you don’t share in common with them. The best you can do is smile and nod along as the conversation flows.

Sydney is an extrovert through and through. She converses with others easily and can win them over with her natural charisma. Sonny too has the gift of the gab, and the pair seem to be hitting it off really well.

By now you’ve lost track of what they’re saying, instead listening to your inner voice. It's selfish and petty to be feeling this way, but there's a small part of you that is sad...jealous, you suppose. Maybe Sonny would prefer to have someone who knows what it’s like to grow up in the city surrounded by a bunch of siblings. Someone who is talkative and charming instead of quiet and shy. Not only that, but Sydney is gorgeous, with her luscious blonde hair and winsome smile. She always draws the eye of every person in a room. You don’t resent her for it by any means, it's just that you’ve never been in a relationship when she was around and so you’ve never had to worry about a significant other falling for her.

Were you that insecure about yourself that you could feel this way? That you had to worry your boyfriend, your Sonny, would be swept off his feet? It wasn't fair to either of them. Sydney has always been kind to you and you hate feeling any jealousy towards her. But worst of all, it’s not fair to Sonny. You know he loves you. He doesn't care that you’re not a supermodel and he is genuine when he tells you that you're beautiful. He loves you for who you are…No other guy has ever done that before. And that's why you're so torn up right now. You shouldn't be feeling jealous or worried, yet you are and it makes your stomach churn!

"Doll?" a soft voice startles you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?" you respond, trying to act casual.

Sydney jumps in. "We’re comparing notes on the best hidden gem restaurants around the city and Sonny says you love a little Italian spot in Tribeca.”

"Oh yeah,” you mutter. “Great alfredo."

Sonny’s brow knits, clearly sensing something is off. His blue eyes narrow and lips purse. "It's a bit pricey," he states, putting an arm around you. The action knocks you off balance as he draws you to him. "But I like ta spoil my girl from time ta time." Sonny unleashes one of his signature smiles, squeezing you ever so slightly in hopes of easing whatever seems to be on your mind.

"Aww, you two!" coos Sydney affectionately.

-x-

It's late evening by the time Sydney is thanking you for dinner and heading home. You and Sonny work in silence tidying up after your guest. And in that silence, your mind once again resorts to fabricating nagging thoughts of Sydney and Sonny. Moments are replayed with emphasis on how naturally they seemed to get along. But it’s that same silence which causes Sonny to speak up.

"What's wrong, doll?" he asks, pausing to lean up against the counter.

"Huh?" you reply with confusion.

"Somethin's up. I can tell. You were kinda distant earlier too." It’s not a question; he knows you too well.

"Nothing," you lie, trying to refocus on wiping down the table. How can you admit any of this to him?

"Tell me. Please," he begs, bending his head down to try and meet your gaze.

"I don't know,” you wring the dishtowel in your hands, “it's just…I kind of felt out of the loop sometimes tonight."

"Whaddya mean?" his eyebrows shoot up with concern.

"Well, you and Sydney hit it off so well..." Your voice trails off for a moment before you finally meet Sonny’s blue eyes. "Sydney's beautiful and charming and easy to get along with.”

“And you're not?”

The bluntness of his question hits you like a ton of bricks. “But…but she's from here,” you argue, tears starting to prickle at your eyes. “That's one thing I'll never have in common with you!”

Sonny stares at you in utter disbelief. “Doll,” his voice drops down to a soft note, “that means nothin’. I love that you're from outta town. You're more naive to the city ‘n I can see that there's still things about New York that excites ya. The lights on Broadway or the view of Lady Liberty in the harbor. Your pretty eyes absolutely light up! It’s so easy to get lost in the hustle ‘n bustle, but you remind me to stop ‘n appreciate all the little things too.”

Sonny’s now standing directly in front of you. He grabs your hands in his. “And don't even get me started about havin’ things in common.” A cheerful smile forms on his lips and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You ‘n I share odd tastes in movies ‘n we're both suckas for nostalgia when it comes ta music. But that's just the tip of the iceberg! The most important thing we share is our values. Family is priority numba one, ‘n you have no idea how long I've waited to meet someone who believes that too. It…it hurts me knowin' that you would ever doubt my love for ya.”

Those words cause you to fall apart and the tears you’ve been holding back trickle down your cheek. You cram your eyes shut, heart aching over the thought of making Sonny feel any pain. At the same time however, he also deserves to know why you still have your doubts.

You open your eyes to a warm hand caressing your cheek. It’s a gentle nudge to have you look at him. You find Sonny searching your features, so you interlace your fingers with his and gently tug him towards the sofa.

Sitting down beside you, Sonny gathers your legs to place atop of his. The closeness makes you feel safe as you mentally prepare yourself to tell all. You take a deep breath and glance up to a loving, encouraging smile pasted across on your boyfriend's features. “Sometimes I get worried that I’ll scare you off,” you tell him.

Immediately he interjects, rubbing your knee soothingly. “That’s nonsense, doll.”

“I know,” you say half-heartedly, “but it’s more to do with my own self-doubt.” Sonny’s expression saddens and he reaches out for your hand. You take it, linking your pinky with his. “Back when I was a biology student, there was this guy taking the same classes as me. He was a year or two older and we got along really well. We shared a lot of common interests. You know, movies and sports and all that stuff. It led us to spend a lot of time together during our free periods. He started doing these little things that seemed so affectionate. For instance, trying to sit tight beside me or asking to hold my hand. He paid me all kinds of compliments and even told me I was beautiful. Needless to say, I fell for him hard.” You pause, fiddling with Sonny’s finger. You had forgotten how much this all hurt to talk about.

Rubbing a hand across your forehead you continue. “One day, I worked up the courage to ask him out. But that’s when things spiraled downhill. He got really defensive and flat out said that he didn’t feel anything for me. That all the little things which I thought meant flirting were actually meaningless and, that I was crazy for thinking otherwise. To add insult to injury, he also said I was too young for him.” Sonny’s shoulders drop and he squeezes your hand a little tighter. “All I could manage was a lame ‘okay’ and left. I cried for weeks and it really threw me through a loop. I’ve been insecure about my feelings ever since. I felt humiliated and embarrassed for being fooled by his charms and for allowing myself to love him. So, I just buckled down and focused on my education, never really trusting myself to openly fall in love again. I was scared of making the same mistake – that is, until I met you.”

With your soul bared, Sonny swiftly pulls you into a hug. He holds you tight, warmth surrounding you as if he hoped it would melt away your pain. You press your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a soft kiss.

Sonny leans back, trailing his hands down your arms. “None of that was your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures. “That guy was a prick who needed ta lead ya on ta make himself feel important. Guys like that enjoy havin’ a girl’s affection, but the moment ya had the balls to tell him how ya felt he was too insecure ‘n pushed ya away. But y’know what?” he pats your arms lightly. “That’s his loss because ya have the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met. N’ I’m lucky to be the one who gets ta be on the receiving end.”

His compliment makes you smile sheepishly. “Thank you, Sonny.” You truly love this man with all your heart. “I’ve tried not to let it affect me – affect us – but it’s one of those things that festers in the back of your mind.”

“I know,” he agrees. “It’s normal.” You watch as he looks away for a moment and swallows thickly. “I neva told ya this before, but I went through somethin’ like that myself…”

With Sonny being a chatterbox and sometimes oversharing information, it comes as a surprise that he too is guarding a part of himself. You flash him a reassuring smile, once again linking your fingers as a silent offer of your support.

And so, he begins. “I spent a year in California when I got out of the academy. There was this rotation at the LAPD ‘n I was young ‘n thought it would be really cool to get outta New York. Turns out I immediately fell head over heels for one of their young detectives. One bat of her eyelashes ‘n I was a goner. We ended up askin’ each other out ‘n life seemed great. Fancy dinners ‘n presents I couldn’t really afford. But at the time, it all seemed worth it because we were happy.” Sonny turns shy as he speaks and you feel a twinge in your gut. It had never occurred to you that he had been in love before you came along.

He looks up to the ceiling as if he dreaded the next lines of his story. “Then my contract was up. I thought we were a strong enough couple to stick together, so I asked her to be move back to New York with me. I said that we could be closer to my family ‘n that they were dyin’ to meet ‘er. But…we didn’t see eye to eye on that.” Sonny releases a sigh. “Yeah, she told me that she moved to LA to get away from family n’ that she loved it too much out there to up and leave. I was dumb ‘n in love ‘n I just didn’t get it. I offered to stay with her instead but she gave me the ol' speech: Yourra nice guy, Sonny, but we have different paces to life. It would never work out.”

You whisper his name, heart shattering on his behalf. He looks to you with a furrowed brow and continues. “I gave her my whole heart ‘n she wasn’t even willin’ to make an effort to keep us togetha. I don’t like to admit it very often, but I was a mess. I flew back to New York ‘n not long after joined law school. Then I ended up bouncin’ around the Boroughs until I met you.” Sonny’s face warms. His eyes sparkle and he unleashes a smile. “Now the whole world seems right! We can be ourselves around each other. I know I have my flaws, but you’d never judge me for ‘em. Instead, ya love ‘em too ‘n I hope ya know that it’s a two-way street from me.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. You remove your legs from him to cuddle under his arm. Sonny wraps around you and kisses the top of your head. “I love you, Sonny,” you mouth into his chest.

“Love ya too, sweetheart.”

You lean back to caress his cheek with your palm. “I think we have another thing in common,” you offer and Sonny peers at you inquisitively. “We fall in love easily.”

Sonny chuckles. “Yeah, it’s like you’re divin’ into tha deep end head first, but ya only find out it’s too shallow once you’re already leapin’.”

You nod your head in agreement. “It’s funny how that stuff always lingers with you. Like a scar that keeps scabbing over. When you jump off the swings as a kid and scrape your knee, you’ll see that scar afterwards and your brain reminds you to never do that again! It’s a shame that the same thing happens when your heart gets hurt. I always felt like I was scared to put myself out there over the fear of being heartbroken again.”

Sonny hums understandingly. “But,” he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “when the right person comes along, all that hurt disappears. Because this time,” he smiles affectionately, “when you jump off the swing, there’ll be someone there to catch you.”

Your serious faces contort into goofy smiles. “See? What did I tell ya, doll? We’re so alike that we even share a knack for makin’ up dumb analogies.” Sonny’s eyes once again crinkle at the corners and he shifts to kiss your temple.

Leaning into his touch, you close your eyes and savor the moment. It feels good to clear the air like this and to be able to forge a connection that’s just that much deeper.

---

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you’re interested in being part of a tag-list. Any and all feedback is loved :)

Part 9, “Stuck-On Cheese” is up here

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonnyshine of my life #law and order svu #the changes verse #svu fanfiction #changes #I'm having a bad day please go easy on me :'(#I'm also too shy to ask ppl if they want to be tagged so please if you do bash me over the head and let me know #my fanfic

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anothermrvictormoron · 4 years

Text

@jamie-blakesley Happy Happy Birthday to u ma meilleur copine!! I wrote this little headcon for u bc i just know how much u love it to read headcons about birdcop ;) I wish u all the best for ur future, that u'll never lose ur smile, that u'll have more good then bad days and that we'll be best friends forever!! I love u girl u mean a lot to me and I hope u like ur little "present" 🖤🖤🖤😋

How would Gavin spend time with his family/kids after coming home from a mission ?

+ He would be pretty excited to come home again after an exhausting mission *his first mission after several months*

+ He missed his beautiful wife and their precious twin boys and can't wait to see them again *that's why he keeps a pic of u and the boys always in his pocket so that he can remind himself why he has to survive*

+ Coming home he's flying to the window as usually and is seing his wife playing with the twins happily with their toys *a door? Is it something to eat?*

+ Is warming his heart and watches them for a bit before he knocks slightly on the window so that his lovely wife could open up the window for him

+ As u're hearing the knock on the window u knew immediately that it can only be him

+ Standing up with the twins in ur arms to open the window for him

+ "Sweethearts look who's back."

+ The boys look questioning at her mommy before they're recognising that their daddy is coming in

+ Their eyes are lighting up in no time as they see him and grap for their daddy immediately

+ One of many things that Birdcop loves about his boys

+ Taking both of them carefully into his arms before kissing his wife a few times very very lovely *softy incoming*

+ "Welcome home, Honey. U're hungry? I've cooked something earlier. "

+ Secretly loves how good his wife is taking care of him when he's coming home

+ Mumbling under his breath "She's so amazing..."

+ Enjoying every minute he's spending with his family especially when they're doing something together

+ Would wait patiently and would play with the boys until his food is ready *he hadn't had proper meals in days*

+ It's so cute watching them together

+ He would blow some wind carefully into their faces, would kiss certain bodie parts and would bite their fists carefully and soft bc he knows that it's making his boys laugh

+ It's a fact that he loves to make his boys laugh

+ Giggling and sweet baby laughs would be heard loudly in the apartment *meltinnggg*

+ He would play with them with their favorite toys

+ "U wanna play with those cars? Or u wanna play with playmobile?"

+ The kids would enjoy playing with their daddy bc they would be probably daddy kids

+ He would watch out that they're not gulping down any small toys they could choke on

+ "Be careful. Don't gulp them down."

+ Playing with them a loonnngggg time until he quits it for a second to eat something

+ The boys are not really pleased about it bc they want their daddy to play with them and mostly want his attention *crying session ahead*

+ Would grap and hold them in his arms while he's eating

+ The boys would enjoy laying in his strong arms so they would probably just cuddle into them while watching his daddy eat but would also try to grap the fawk to kinda annoy him

+ They would laugh as he's getting interrupted from eating by his kids so easily *poor Mr. Qi*

+ "Boys let me eat something before I take care of u. Daddy can't play with you when he is hungry."

+ They wouldn't pay much attention to it and would annoy their father until the point when he's starting to tickle the crap out of them

+ Omg u should see this

+ The boys would laugh so sweetly and loud by Gavins tickling that u can't hold urself back to take a picture from them to put it in ur family album

+ They wouldn't even recognise it bc they would have so much fun together

+ "Naww u're so cute." *feeling a bit jealous*

+ After eating something u would go to the couch with ur 3 boys to sit down and have fun together

+ Suddenly one of the two boys is starting to fly slowly upwards and doesn't really know what to do bc something like that hadn't happened before

+ Gavin and u would be confused as hell bc the doctor told u that it would be nearly impossible that ur babys will become evolvers *eh ofc u are! It's not like every baby is just flying in the air *

+ Gavin is taking his boy into his arms althought he's still flying bc he wants to keep him save *mean daddy*

+ "So the doctor was wrong after all."

+ Gavin is looking at his impatient little boy that wants to fly as badly as Gavin when he was a child exploring his evolv

+ "Guess I should start teaching u how to fly if mommy is ok with this?"

+ With ur go Gavin starts to float a bit to teach his son how to fly without hurting himself or others

+ Telling him how to fly in a way his son can understand and without any problems *lucky him otherwise u would have kicked his ass*

+ Lotttssss of practice before he can let him fly through the flat on his own while u're taking care of ur other son and peeking at them from time to time so u can make sure that nothing happens *Gavin is giving his best*

+ Ur other boy is enjoying watching his daddy fail a bit and laughs hardly when his brother tries to tease their dad *poor Gavin*

+ "Good, buddy! U do great!"

+ After some time both of them get tired and yawn pretty hard

+ " I guess it's sleeping time. Daddy would u bring ur boys to bed and read them a bed time story?"

+ U don't have to tell him twice as he takes both of them and flies with them in his arms to their room *ofc he's watching out*

+ Sitting down with them onto a beanbag while graping one of their favorite fairytail books and a blanket to keep them warm and comfortable onto his chest

+ "So which one do u want to hear today?" while flipping through the pages

+ His boys are making themselves comfy while they wait for their story *Gavin forgot that his boys can't speak yet*

+ Gavin is reading "Cindarella" to his boys

+ After awhile Gavin hasn't come back so u decide to go check on them

+ Omg prepare urself to die from cuteness

+ The three boys sleeping and hugging each other while still sitting onto the beanbag *secretly taking a photo*

+ U make ur way to them to put kisses onto each of their foreheads before leaving the room to let them sleep

+ "He's an amazing father..." u're whispering while u're going to the living room

#love and producer #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin #mlqc headcanon #mlqc imagine #mlqc #mr love gavin #mr love queen's choice #bai qi

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #beccas1kwritingchallenge #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bitsmasterlist #bucky barnes

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

Note

Now that Nora's season is coming to end, what are somethings that you want for amira's season

Hi 😁 I bet you thought I’d never reply to this ask! Well, after you sent this in MARCH, I am finally posting an answer.

Btw, I did the same for Nora’s season, and as a note, I’m a white European and an atheist. If any of this is offensive or not my place to say, I preemptively apologize.

1) I would like for Amira's arc not to be about being Muslim. That is, Cris' arc isn't about being bi, it's about learning (and accepting) that she's more than the fun friend. That she has and can offer more to the people in her life. Nora's arc isn't about being a feminist, it's about not being so set in your first impression of someone that you don't notice red flags or don't notice them trying to be better people. Same with Eva and not being defined by her mistakes, or about Viri and her financial situation. And I would like the same for Amira.

2) I think one common denominator of all Sana seasons so far is that they've shown the mains doing something that people assume hijabi can't do when it's more like they're systematically excluded from participating. For Sana, it was basketball. For Imane, it was dancing. For Amira M, it was boxing. I joked on twitter that Amira N's thing should be binging TV shows and eating junk, proving that hijabi are really like anyone else, but on a serious note, I'd like for Amira's thing to be photography (and maybe modeling? since Amira's friend was taking pics of her).

3) A scene where Amira explains how she can be a feminist and a hijabi both, just so we as a society have that scene to point to when the question inevitably comes up again. Seriously, I feel like that's one of the questions I most often see people asking Hajar.

4) I want the association girls to have their own youtube channel. Or at the very least, their own instagram and/or twitter account. I would love for them to post memes punching up about their experiences.

5) I feel like, much like with trans narratives, there's this "acceptable" narrative for hijabi in mainstream society, which is: the character made the decision to cover after coming up with solid reasons to do so. I.e. she made the decision early and can defend it with inarguable rebuttals. It's like women can't be trusted unless they know 150% what they're doing, be it covering, or dating a girl, or going vegan, or any number of things. I really appreciate that Amira started covering just because it felt right, and she's finding meaning in it after the fact. I would like for this to be a thing in her season, that she's still figuring herself out, that she's not already an Islamic scholar.

6) I also think that's what makes her stand apart from the other Sanas. I feel like (maybe with Zoya's exception), none of the other Sanas would entertain a crush on a white guy. They'd have never drunk or flirted (like we know Amira used to do). It's like they're not allowed to fuck up, or can only fuck up in acceptable ways, like engaging in a flirtation with a non Muslim only because they didn't know he wasn't a Muslim, or had booze at home, but it wasn't theirs, etc. I'm hoping that they've made Dani a love interest specifically to explore this idea (and not because they wanted to whitewash a character or give less time to an actor of color).

7) On that note, SKAM Hajar brought up an idea that, because the hijab makes them super visible, hijabi are perceived as ambassadors of Islam, expected to be able to answer any question about Islam, but also that people will judge all Muslims based on whatever mistake they individually make. I would like for a potential bench scene to allow Amira to say that it puts major pressure on her to feel like she can't make any mistake, because every Muslim will be judged based on her making a mistake, having a shitty day, being in a bad mood, not wanting to be Muslim wikipedia that day, etc. That sometimes she just wants to be Amira, not Islam personified.

8) I would like for Dani's character to represent not just white society, but also childhood, the safe choice, the choice her parents would love, and for Sofian's character to represent not just Moroccan culture, but also like... SEXY risk, independence, novelty... Because I feel like when I see Muslim girl/Muslim boy/white guy love triangles in fiction, the Muslim guy is positioned as the boring choice (but still incredibly wrong because he's abusive or maybe even secretly gay and forced to beard by his parents), the safety, the guy you'd bring home to your parents, whereas the white guy represents independence and carving your own path away from your parents.

9) Just once, I would like for a Muslim character to say, "what do you think of Catholic priests abusing kids?" to someone asking them what they think of such-and-such Muslim majority country doing such-and-such to its citizens. Bonus points if it's Sofian's character.

10) I would like for Dilan to get an insta and a storyline. And for that storyline to connect to Amira's.

11) In general, I would prefer that parents be kept to a minimum (not to get rid of them entirely, of course, but to be kept at the level they've been in other Sana seasons). I just have never thought the point of Skam was the parents. And I get why they have a larger presence in a second gen kid, but I, personally, am more interested in what they represent in the main's life, rather than in giving them a lot of face time.

12) And, on that note, if they do with Amira what I've outlined above, I don't think there's a necessity for Amira to have siblings. Particularly if eskam isn't going to continue after this season. I think it'd be far more interesting if Amira's character contained the elements of figuring her identity as a Muslim living in a Western country that Elias, Idriss and Essam had. (And maybe that way Dani is both Yousef and Elias, stealing not just one role for an actor of color, but two! lmao)

13) I really hope that the obligatory evak s4 side plot be kept at a minimum tbh. I'm really not interested in a) Eloy coming back to cause drama, b) Amira's friend causing croana drama because she's Joana ex or whatever, c) a physical fight breaking out because of (perceived) homophobia.

14) I want Amira to tell Cris that amiris es lo más real que hay. 😭 I would love it if, as a parallel to Cris' season, Amira doesn't tell Cris about her interest in Sofian's character at first because she's afraid of her reaction, only for Cris to be supportive of whatever she chooses to do.

15) I would be so fucking happy if eskam adapted the "is your faith stronger than your lust?" scene in this season. I have always wanted to love that scene, because how often do you get a scene where two girls get to talk that long and that much (even in Skam most of the iconic dialogue scenes between just two people aren't between two girls in the squad), but I just haaaated the purpose of the scene in Skam.

16) I would cry buckets if we got a scene like Det Beste fra Islam where Amira and Sofian's character both talk about what Islam means for them. Particularly if Sofian is introduced as not the Perfect Muslim Man, but it turns out he has THOUGHTS about religion.

17) And, finally, I would love for the unquestionable villain of the season to be a white guy. If the villain is going to be a woman, then I would want her to be Cris' mom, not a high school aged character. Not because of white feminism yayyy! but because I think the major issue Sana seasons have run into before is that the showrunners want to touch on white girls being the problem, but they also don't want to villainize white girls. So we have stuff like Sana inviting Sara and Ingrid (of all people!!) to Eid, Imane apologizing to Ingrid (of all people!!), random one clip white women attacking Amira M (and the Kiki/Amira friendship of course), etc. I'd just rather they didn't have girls doing shitty stuff to Amira N, if they're going to go back on it. Which they inevitably would, because eskam's overall message is sisterhood.

Bonus clips

18) I would love it if Skam España was like, "you thought we were dropping storylines left and right? Nope!" and resolved long standing mysteries like who was behind Eva's hate ig, who had the pills, who outed Cris to the school, who's the owner of the keys that were left behind at GSC, and so on. Will die if it turns out to be Ramón!

19) I want Joana to get that job she wanted so bad last season!

20) I would love for Emma to show up and come out as a lesbian, just as a last hurrah lol.

21) I don't feel strongly about which couples should be endgame and not (other than not Dani/Amira hghvvh please), BUT in my most embarrassing fantasies, I want Skam España to hire Alejandro Reina's irl boyfriend to play Lucas' boyfriend for the finale. Not because I can't separate fiction from reality or anything, but because when I thought Lucas would be getting a season, I wanted his boyfriend to be a poc, and I was highkey buttmad that they hired random white bread when they could just as easily have hired a poc.

22) I think it would be really cool if Inés got a clip on her POV, but I don't think we're going to get it. I think all bonus clips will be from the squad's POV, i.e. Eva, Cris, Nora and Viri. Not even Joana.

23) I want a Mallorca special or episode so bad, and I will be so FUCKING ANNOYED if we don't get it. Seriously, I can't imagine the team didn't feel betrayed when they watched Skam for writing purposes, and didn't get their russetide. So they should know how angry we would be if we didn't get even a little bit of Mallorca time.

#ask #skam españa #I am literally unable to be concise it's just not in my blood #long post #comicluke #I used to always say that I wanted them to feature the m-30 mosque in amira's season #and they're doing that!! so yay!

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smeraldos · 4 years

Text

stuck in second gear

so no one told you love was going to be this way.

summary: the tables have been set, the guests have arrived, and congratulations are ready to be made.

all you have to do is show up...

wedding!au

pairings: taehyung/reader, namjoon/reader

genres: love, suspense, bittersweet symphony

words: 2.6K+

Once upon a dream, you’d thought your wedding would be a fairytale. Now you know why some stories have to end: what lies beyond "happily ever after" isn't always so pleasant.

Which is why you're trying to prevent it.

Sure, you don't have the best timing, but it's better late than never. Even if it means sneaking out your dressing room in a ton of satin.

"______? How are you doing?"

Startled, you step back from the window. "Great, just give me a few."

“A few what?" Phoebe quips from the other side of the door. "Hours? Years? You know we don’t have that time.”

“You don’t have it or you aren’t willing to give it?”

“Honey, I offered you help and you didn’t take it, so that’s on you. Now are you going to let me in or are you coming out?”

“I’ll come out.” You scramble to gather the train of your dress, but it’s too long. Spotting a pair of scissors leftover from ribbon cutting, you grab it and start cutting off the fabric. “In five minutes.”

“So what do I tell your fiancé?”

“Not to worry because it looks ugly on him and only I should see his ugly face.”

She laughs. "You got that, pretty prince?"

"I'm writing it in my vows," your fiancé says, and maybe you'd find it funny in a sitcom, but it's your life. You panic. The dresser you pushed against the door is not heavy enough to keep him out.

"You're welcome," Phoebe replies for you, oblivious to your dread. "Now shoo. I better not see you up here until ______ walks down the aisle."

He makes a kissy noise in return, right before you hear a loud beep.

Oh.

“He’s a total kid, I don’t know how you put up with him," Phoebe says to you now. "Actually, don’t tell me. Just hurry up before he comes in and whisks you out himself. Five minutes!”

You don’t need to be told twice. As soon as her footsteps recede, you make quick work of the train and step onto the windowsill. A branch hangs before you, connecting to a tree that is your only way out. It’s risky. Not to mention you haven’t scaled a tree since you were a teenager, and clearly not in a dress of this size. Well. Either you go big or you go home.

You know which one isn’t an option anymore.

...

Taehyung met you in middle school, when he'd moved from the valley to the city. As much as he hated to gloss over people, he'd admit he wouldn't have become your friend if you hadn't been his lab partner first. Not that you weren't fun or interesting or cool - in fact, you were all three, but you ran in a different circle than he did. His was full of troublemakers. He was one of those kids who got bored easily if they weren't being challenged, so it was a good thing Jimin (the only other kid with a Korean name) and you came into his life when you did.

He'd also considered it a miracle you both stayed. Or so he hopes.

"Hey," Jimin, elevated to best man, steps up to him and pats his back. "Earth to Galactica, what's the status update?"

Taehyung tries to smile, but it's hard to do when his mouth is stuffed with strawberries. He's been sneaking them in to get his mind off of feeling nervous and the fact that you're supposed to show up soon, but why does he have this weird feeling that you won't?

He hides it with a joke. "In 150 characters or less?"

"Preferably zero with that mosh pit," Jimin says, gesturing to his mouth. "Chew with your mouth shut. I'll wait."

Taehyung glares. Jimin can say what he wants now, but he's forgetting he used to chew gum like a cow on grass and who would let him get away with it? Taehyung, that's who.

And because he's such a good pal, he does as instructed. That's not to say he doesn't gargle some water, obnoxiously loud, to get back at him. At the end of the day, their friendship is built off of moments like this.

It's why Jimin snorts right as Taehyung starts to speak.

"Sorry," he says. At least he has the decency to look like it. "You should have seen the look on those girls' faces. They were ready to give you the stink eye for gargling, but the minute they saw you, it was game over."

"The game has been over since ______."

"Right." Jimin gets back on topic. "So what did Phoebe say?"

"______ will be on her way in five. I just don't know if she will at all."

"Did something happen?"

"No, she just won't accept any help. Don't you think that's weird? Apparently, the dress is a piece of work."

"And if anyone can pull it off, she can," Jimin assures. "You know she doesn't let anyone bug her in the middle of doing something she cares about. She's probably in there triple-checking all the details."

Taehyung has a feeling that isn't the case - they haven't addressed the elephant in the room. He mentions it first.

"You don't think she's getting cold feet, do you?"

A flicker of worry crosses Jimin's face, gone in an instant. He'd always been good at that: putting on a brave face.

"Tae," he says, "you're it for ______, and you've both come this far already. I doubt she'd change her mind now. But in the smaller than my pinky chance she does, she won't do it without telling you."

Here's where Taehyung should agree (and laugh). But a couple weeks ago, you'd distanced yourself, and no matter what he tried, you wouldn't say what was wrong.

So he'd given you some space. To cheer you up, he left a Happy Meal outside your door, and instead of a toy, he'd placed little matryoshka dolls, inside of which lay a ticket to the Met. He knows you went - you'd sent him a pic of yourself next to Starry Night later that week. Yet you still haven't told him why you were stressed.

Taehyung takes a breath, thinks of a quick prayer. It’s as much for you as it is for the guests you both loved, for his best man who shouldn't be worrying on his behalf.

"You're right," he says, faking an easy smile. "Thanks Chim. Remind me to give you that bottle from Napa later."

Jimin's eyes smile right back.

...

Incoming Call: Mr. Park

He swipes to red before you can see it. A text appears.

Did you find ______?

Jin did not sign up for this. He came for free food, a good time, and if he were honest, the chance to distract himself with someone else's happy ending. Small joys. If he stacked them up, maybe he'd have a nice building to look at. Maybe that nice building would block the dull view of the parking lot he woke up to each morning.

Instead, he is chauffeur to a runaway bride eating animal fries in the backseat. You gulp down some Coke and release a loud burp.

"What?" You ask when he gives you a look. "It's the baby."

The laughter dies in his throat when you abruptly stop, your cheeks growing red. So you hadn't meant to tell him that...which meant it wasn't a food baby. He places another hand on the steering wheel. Usually, he's the one giving people a ride, not the other way around.

"How far along are you?"

"Two weeks," you say. "Give or take."

"I see," he says. "So what's the deal between you guys, if you don't mind me asking?"

You give him the lowdown because he doesn't seem to care. And if he doesn't care, he won't judge. You watch his eyes through the rearview mirror, noting they look too honest to belong to someone who claimed to be a liar. Maybe that's the point.

Or maybe you've seen too many movies and they're getting to your head, Taehyung would say. To which you'd say it was his fault for dragging you to the discount theater too often. And he'd agree, admit he's a bad influence with his boyish smile, the sunlight crowning his head like a halo.

"Let me get this straight," Jin says. "You want to go through with this?"

"Yes."

"You don't sound very sure."

Have you always been this obvious or is your guilt starting to show? You settle for the closest truth. "It's a hard decision."

Jin doesn't push you, just keeps his eyes on the road. Before he drops you off at the airport, you ask him to stop by your apartment. You need a change of clothes.

"Big day today?" A tenant asks, beaming at your dress.

You hope your smile doesn't look like a grimace.

...

The fact that you don't live with Taehyung makes it easier to pack up. Kind of. He leaves behind belongings as naturally as Chopa sheds fur, and if he weren't so great at distracting you, maybe you would have noticed just how much of him you'd accumulated. His felt jacket is slung over the arm of your couch, his records are tucked in your shelves, the print he'd given you of Basquiat's Now's The Time is on the floor, leaning against a wall. Each of them comes with their own memories, some you'll one day forget. But now, looking at them all, you remember everything. You'll always hate yourself for that night you cheated on him, for ruining what could have been a happy life with the man you love.

As you empty out your drawer, you will yourself not to cry.

...

In the end, Taehyung finds you. When you open the door, he's standing in the hallway, looking like he wants to talk. You have no doubt he'll try to understand. He's quick to listen and slow to anger, an advocate of second chances you don't deserve.

The instant he registers your suitcase, however, he stiffens. "I'll grab my things."

"Taehyung--" you try to say, but he brushes past without another word. Resigned, you follow him in, watching as he plucks some records off your shelves. An envelope falls to the floor, facedown. It's still sealed, so he must have meant for you to find it, only you never did. He picks that up, too. He sweeps his scarf off your coat rack, his bracelets off your counter, and the bag of Chopa's dog toys off the floor. The felt jacket he skips over.

"Isn't that yours?" You ask quietly, sinking into the couch.

"No," he says. "It's yours."

You're pretty sure it's his...until you realize it isn't. He'd borrowed it a while ago, and you thought it looked much better on him than it did dwarfing you. He takes one last glance around the room and turns to go.

"Wait," you say, "I--"

He doesn't let you finish, stepping into his shoes and heading straight for the door. You don't know what to do. Impulsively, you run in front of him, blocking his way.

"______," Taehyung says, his voice so solemn it scares you, "weren't you going to leave?"

You plead with your eyes, unwilling to budge. "Please just let me explain."

He makes a sound that is somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Like this is easy? Leaving you?"

"You already did it," he says. "That was your decision to make, and this is mine. I'll take care of the guests. Don't keep your driver waiting."

You might as well have been slapped. Your conscience smarts from the sting of it.

"Forget him," you bite out. "I don't care about getting on a flight to who knows where since I didn't get a plane ticket. Did you know that? Because up until a few minutes ago, I wanted to marry you, Taehyung. I still do. But I'm pregnant and..." The rest of your words dissolve into tears.

Taehyung can’t believe this is happening. Or rather, he doesn't want to believe it. Then the pieces start falling into place - your hands trembling as you told him you cheated, the weeks before the wedding when you insisted on being alone, your ill-timed escape - and it's twice as painful. That baby you're carrying isn't his.

He has every right to resent you, but how could he, when you're like this?

Quietly, he lets go of his things and gathers you into his arms, holding your tear-stained face to his chest.

"I'm such a jerk." You suck in a sharp, shallow breath. "I was scared to tell you because I'd messed up our relationship once, and once is too much, you know?"

"I know."

"I don't deserve you."

"Of course you do." His voice is wet, and when you look up, he gently brushes away your tears. He's crying, too. "I love you."

...

A few years pass before you see Taehyung at the altar. Jimin reprises his role as best man and leaves with a pat on the shoulder.

Next to you, Jeongguk sniffles loudly. “What?” He says when you turn to him. “It’s touching.”

"Oh, stop. Nothing happened yet."

"Weddings just get to me, okay? I need to squeeze out every last teardrop so I don't interrupt the ceremony." Then he asks Annika if he can have a tissue. Annika, kind as always, does one better. She pulls him in like a mother hen and lets him cry on her shoulder. "Go ahead, honey. Let it all out," she murmurs, glaring at you as if it's your fault he was crying in the first place.

"There, there." Yoongi, beside Annika, says halfheartedly. You shoot him a sharp look, but he just shrugs, mouthing: What did I do?

You sigh. You guess you can't blame him for being smitten with Annika. She took you in after all, helping you to move on once you'd parted ways with Taehyung. Phoebe had introduced you to her, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jeongguk, and you couldn't have wished for a better group of friends. Or a better set of aunts and uncles for Nina. Your daughter is standing right in front of the church doors now, a woven basket of confetti clutched in her hand.

She looks so adorable you want to embarrass her. (At 5, she's adamant on being a big girl. And that meant you couldn't blow kisses at her or squish her cheeks without getting the cutest annoyed pout.) Unfortunately, someone stepping on your foot distracts you.

"Sorry." Namjoon gives you a sheepish grin. He'd just run back from the restroom. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"

You reach out to pull a lick of his slicked back hair over his brow. "Now you did," you say, cheeky, and he's about to smother you in a hug as payback when the pianist begins to play. Nina has too much fun scattering the confetti.

In walks a line of bridesmaids and groomsmen, two by two. They separate to either end like the petals of a flower in bloom.

Then comes the bride. Lily. You don't have to see her to know she's beautiful. You can tell by the way Taehyung's face lights up, the sun on his face making him golden. You're happy to see him happy, although you have to look somewhere above them when they kiss.

The fact is, you still love him. In a different way, one that's familiar because you've been friends long before becoming anything romantic. But in rare moments, you catch yourself feeling blue.

Namjoon squeezes your hand. You didn't realize you were gripping his.

"Are you okay?" He whispers.

You look at him, Yoongi and Annika, Jeongguk. Phoebe, who's making the stranger to her right hide a laugh. (His name is Jay, she'd told you excitedly. But he moonwalks like Michael.)

"I'm okay," you whisper back, and Namjoon smiles. It isn't until you say it aloud that you realize it's true.

...

a/n: happy 7th birthday to bts, who give me hope that dreams aren’t a lost cause 💜

title taken from the infamous Rembrandts’ song, which you might recognize here.

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

I Am Having a Snuggle -10

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess doesn’t sleep much after her long distance meltdown. Soft Murder Panther to the rescue! Well, except for that one hard part.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

FEELS. SMUT (aka The Good Stuff), the L word, plus size woman+fit man, soft!Diego (srsly disgusting and if you bring it up later he will stab you), coddled Princess, mentions of... The Belt*tm, is a relationship happening?? apparently. Leftover high school Spanish.

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Special thanks to @chelsfic for the shared Diego headcanons re: coffee preferences. ILY Mommy

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

You snap awake with a gasp. What woke you up? You lay there for a second, holding your breath and listening. With your vision being so horrible your hearing is a much more reliable sense. Its pitch black tonight, no moonlight breaking through the cloud cover. You don't keep any ambient lighting on while you sleep so you couldn't see anything if you tried.

There. A soft bang outside somewhere. Then another. It almost sounds like car doors. I wonder if the baby is sick again and First Floor Mark is taking her to the hospital?

Your worry is cut short when you jolt to full awareness because your apartment door is opening. You flip over to your back and dive for the nightstand. Glasses first, Smithfield 911 second. You sit up to brace yourself against the wall and hold the gun in your lap, fingering the safety.

The door closes and you hear it being locked.

With a heaved sigh you make sure the safety is on and wait. Heavy footsteps come ever closer to your bedroom and you can see the light of his phone before he appears in your doorway.

Diego freezes when he sees you sitting up in bed. Then he smiles. Wide and sparkling in the low light, you can't see them but you know the dimples are there.

"Princess, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He greets you warmly, voice like liquid velvet, wrapping you in heated comfort. You can tell he is wearing most of a suit, the jacket is gone, but you have no idea what color. His collar is unbuttoned. That's not distracting at all.

You arch one brow and struggle not to smirk. "Damnit Diego, you almost got shot." You display the gun, barrel pointed to the ceiling.

He rumbles lowly at you, purring in pleasure, as he spreads his arms open. "Princess, that is hot. Come here, now!"

With a bark of laughter you drop the gun to the bed and launch yourself at him. He staggers back a step but catches you securely. You wrap all your limbs around him and squeeze. His hands cup your ass and he returns the gesture with enthusiasm. Diego turns his face into yours, you know exactly what he wants and you give it to him with no hesitation.

His lips are soft but his beard is all scratchy tickles. You delight in the contrasting textures, moaning softly as you try to merge your bodies into one entity. His left hand climbs up your back to squeeze your neck right where you always carry all of your tension.

"Ohhhhhh..." Your mouth drops open and you go boneless in his grip. He gives no quarter and shuts you up with his tongue while his groan vibrates against your chest. Your nipples respond with alacrity.

He tastes like coffee and chocolate, maybe a hint of cinnamon. What the hell did he eat? You can't get enough of it.

You never favored long bouts of kissing, makeout sessions were too intimate and your previous partners were more than happy to skip right to the main event. But its different with Diego. He doesn't drool on you and his mouth is consistently at least ten degrees hotter than your own. He always tastes like coffee and some outlandishly ridiculous flavored creamer. The instant a new variety of non-dairy creamer is released he has to try it. His child-like excitement over it is incredibly endearing to witness.

You sink both hands into his hair to pull him back. His eyes are huge and you watch with rapt attention as he licks his bottom lip. "Princess. Bed. Now." He croaks, nodding his own head like he's trying to peer pressure you into consenting.

Completely unnecessary, baby.

"Yeah." Your soft whimper is stupidly needy. Only Diego does this to you. Has this effect on you. You feel like the cover of a really bad romance novel. A strumpet. The ludicrous term makes you giggle. You gaspingly add another request, "But naked!"

Diego jumps into motion and takes two huge steps to the bed. You're already fighting with the buttons on his shirt and you don't quit as he lays you down on your back. There is only absolute faith that he won't drop you.

The moment you're down his hands go to your cami, fingers sliding under the elastic band of the shelf bra and gathering the whole thing up to go over your head. You have to let go of him for a split second so he can fully remove it and that makes you whine unhappily. Diego tosses the shirt over his shoulder carelessly and smushes both of your breasts together to attempt a self-smothering. You laugh breathlessly until he latches onto a nipple.

"Ohhhhhh. Fuck. Yeah. Yeahhh." Nice porn moan, only practicing self-affirmation here. You still can't believe this works. The strong suckling sensations go straight to your cunt. No wonder other women always said they liked it. This is unique to Diego, too. He is the only person that your body has ever responded to in this. Sure, you liked your breasts fondled, squeezed, compressed utterly flat. But your nipples? No, they had some kind of epiphany the first time Diego sealed his lips around one and sucked.

You pet over his hair and he rumbles into your skin, the vibrations make your back arch. Your hands push on his shirt collar. You wanted bare skin earlier, now you need it. His hands disappear, then so does his shirt, but the attention to your nipple never falters. His sneaky fingers snake down over your stomach, he pauses to squeeze the squishy middle, then continue to your pants.

"No!" You yelp and Diego freezes. He releases your harried nipple to look up at you in puzzlement.

With his brows drawn together he questions you, "Princess. What is--"

You don't let him finish. "Take your damn pants off right fucking now! I missed you, not your clothes!" You even sound frantic to yourself. Desperate. And you don't care.

He growls at you but straightens up and reaches for his belt.

Oh god. His belt. Your gulp is audible. Its the same belt from that time he detained you on the jet. Spanked you delirious with it and then fucked you over a seat. All as punishment, of course, for sending a booty pic to Julio. You spent the next day on your belly while Diego torturously worshiped your ass. It was amazing.

His slow, evil smile confirms that he witnessed the entire memory play out across your face. That predatory stare never leaves yours as he opens the buckle and whips the soft leather free of the pant loops. He holds the belt up in the air, then drops it to the floor off the side of the bed. "Next time, Princess. We have the whole flight together. Maybe this time I'll make you keep count of how many times you come."

The threatening promise (promising threat??) makes you keen, high and piercing. Diego laughs at your obvious need, but he resumes stripping at a faster pace. You pop upright to get your pants off and complete the maneuver just in time to witness his cock achieve freedom. Before either one of you realizes it your hand is wrapped around him.

Diego collapses forward into you but catches himself on his hands before you get crushed. Not a bad way to go. You think. Crushed by hottest criminal sugar daddy with a heart of gold just for her. A beautiful obituary.

You tighten your fingers around him; each one individually and in consecutive order, creating a rippling effect. He drops his forehead to your shoulder with a purr. You turn into his face to nuzzle up along his jawline. "Baby," you breathe, punctuating it with a long lick up the shell of his ear. "I missed you. So. Much."

His answering growl triggers violent shivers. He uses those wide shoulders to force you down onto your back. Planting one knee on the bed between your legs, he insinuates both hands under your ribcage and shoulders to slide you up the bed. His hands are so massive that they span the entire width of your back. That fact should scare you, instead you feel secure, even treasured, with how gently he handles you. He can be delightfully rough, you've been on the receiving end of that before. But right now is Soft Murder Panther hours.

He has to move up with you because you are not relinquishing that magnificent erection.

"Princess," he rumbles directly into your ear, "Let go now or you will be disappointed later. I spent the entire flight thinking about every soft inch of you. Need to be inside you. Nowww." His confession ends in a breathy sigh as he begins pressing kisses over your entire face.

You reach up to take off your glasses but he's already there, holding them by the frame around the lenses and not the easily bent arms. You blink back tears as you watch him stretch over to set them on your nightstand exactly how you do it.

When he comes back you cradle his face with your hands, holding him still so you can just take this all in. His eyes search your face, looking for any hint of discomfort as he rests more of weight onto you. You nod gently and he gingerly, deliberately gives you the rest of his bulk. His presence drowns out everything else. All you know is Diego. Everything you ever wanted.

With minimal effort you guide him down until his forehead meets yours. He whimpers softly for you and your hands pet down his stubbled cheeks. This kiss is no less passionate than the wild ones earlier but somehow sweeter. You open your eyes to find him watching you, gaze unguarded and face completely open.

You stroke over his cheeks again, one thumb gliding along his plush lower lip. Diego nips your thumb, then engulfs it in his mouth to suck. Your moan is pure need, "Please, baby."

His hips roll and you feel the underside of his shaft rub the entire length of your labia. You arch and move with him this next time. The third pass lands the perfect angle and his thick heat spreads you wide. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as you press your head back into the bed. He keeps pushing until you're completely filled. And then he pushes a little more. Just enough.

You gasp in a shuddering breath and your back arches off the bed while you clench down around him in waves. He groans long and low as he watches you come on him. "Ohh, Bonita. Good girl."

Your quiet huff of laughter dissolves into a moan as he sets a steady pace. Long, solid strokes so you can feel every glorious inch, an inexorable push on your cervix every time he bottoms out. Your fingers claw into his shoulders, clinging like your life depends on it.

He burrows into your neck to sear your skin with his beard, soothing the burn with soft licks and velvet kisses. "Princess. Diego's perfect little princess. Its good? Tell me." He pants, open-mouthed and greedy.

You nod into his hair. "Perfect. Is perfect. You're perfect." He shakes his head 'no', rubbing his face on you. His right hand reaches down, gripping your thigh with purpose. He pulls your leg up, wrapping it around his waist, the other follows of its own accord. His knees spread, widening his stance and shifting the angle of his thrusts. Incredibly, he manages to get deeper inside you. Without a conscious command your mouth opens to spill out pure desperation and mangled ecstasy. "Yes, baby. All of you. Give me everything…"

He drops frenzied kisses all over your face while you two share the same air. His tone turns emotional, raspier, "Want to. Please. Please, please, please let me. Take care of my princess, be better. Just for you. Please, mi amor."

That's new. New and heart-wrenching. You can't decide if its being used as a pet name or a declaration. It doesn't matter, the agonizing emotion behind it still makes you seize up with pleasure. He moans in approval, moving continuously throughout your entire climax. Just as your back begins to loosen he accelerates his thrusts, driving you right back up into another orgasm. You realize the ringing in your ears is actually a noise being made by your mouth.

"Yes, Princess. Come for me. Let Diego please this pretty little pussy." I am never going to regret admitting that I love his dirty talk. You congratulate yourself for that moment of successful communication. Diego hasn't shut up since then and you are so very grateful.

He sweeps hands down your sides to grasp your hips. Even at your current size 16 his fingers still curve around both your front and back. He makes you feel small and delicate, vulnerable and fiercely protected. Cherished. Loved.

He half kneels under you, pulling your pelvis into his lap. Every intense, short thrust hits your g-spot and makes your vision swim. Your trembling never stops, its just constant rolling pleasure. You reach up for him, needing to be joined together endlessly. The muscles in his arms ripple and contract as he scoops you up.

He has you sitting upright in his lap, legs around his waist and your arms tight behind his neck. Your entire weight rests on his left arm under your butt, holding you steady while he thrusts up into you with abandon. The right arm climbs up your back for him to thread fingers into your curls and press your forehead to his. Your mouth hangs open while you sob in bliss.

"Si, Princess. Dame uno mas, come for your Diego. Be mine." You have no defense for his fierce begging whispered directly into your face.

"Diego. Diego, baby, yes I-I-" Your voice cuts out as your orgasm sends you into convulsions. He presses your hips down fast to his so he can pump his own climax deep with a gravelly moan.

He collapses forward, both of you dropping to the bed like a stone, then proceeds to just lay on you and pant. After an undefinable amount of time, Diego rubs his cheek against yours. He is purring again, the deep vibrations rumble through your chest. You pet over his hair, scratching his scalp with your short, practical nails. His back arches and his hips roll; he's still buried deep inside you. "Princessss. Bicki. Mi amor." His sigh is content.

You kiss his temple. Murmuring breathlessly to him, "Love you too, Murder Panther." You nuzzle into his beard, relishing all the textures. His breath catches, then his chest heaves. He pulls back from you, extricating his limbs so he can flop onto his side next to you. Your head turns for a kiss and he is already there, sealing his mouth to your own languidly.

With one last fleeting peck to your chin, he rolls you onto your side and pulls you back against him in one fluid movement. Your head is pillowed on his left bicep and you wrap his right arm up tight to your chest. The entire length of his body is spooned up behind you. Instead of being suffocating you find it soothing. His soft little snuffling snores lull you back to sleep.

I am having a snuggle.

#damnit diego #murder panther #soft murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #zash writes #feeeels #seriously this is disgustingly soft

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