#and is actually able to be made to look nice

[robinismywifesworld]

Ms. Manager

Saja boys x Fem! Reader

Summary: The Saja boys can't help but be enamored by their dumb and pretty manager.

Warning: Possessive! Saja boys, tw.death (not reader or any of the saja boys), dumb! reader, oblivious! reader, crybaby? Reader, a bit suggestive I guess?, might be incorrect grammar and spellings, probably more.

Author's note: Bear in mind that this is my first post here on tumblr, pretty new to this because I usually post my stories on Wattpad. I could write how they met or another part of this but I need some ideas, only if you end up liking this one though. I practically wrote this on a whim. I did not proofread this lol

[Last name] [Your name], a name most popular uttered by many people, a name who could turn many heads at the direction with just at a simple mutter, a name that could break a cold person's exterior, and lastly, a name that could easily steal the hearts of the upcoming Korean boy group the Saja boys.

The Saja boys were currently at their own dance rehearsals because they can't exactly steal fans if they don't look great, sing great and dance great, would they?

Jinu lets out an exasperated sigh as he stared at the group of demons, glaring daggers at the other four demons who just can't get the dance right. "We're meant to jump in sinc at this part." He said, crossing his arms as Baby Saja rolls his eyes from behind Abby, thinking their leader wouldn't be able to see. "Why you!-" the dark haired male was about to stomp over when the door opened.

The five males immediately straightened their postures at the sight of her.

[Your name].

Their very own manager.

Standing there with a bright smile plastered on your pretty face as you held the lyrics of their song Soda pop in hand given to you by Jinu.

"Ms. Manager, good to see you." Abby gives out a little wave, shirt riding up to show a bit of his skin and toned body. "You're late. Again."

It wasn't a secret to the five of them that you were admittedly... not that great of a manager, even though they don't have much experience of how a manager actually acts but they just don't want to get rid of you. Not when you looked at them so prettily that they can't help but want more of you, definitely not when you smelled so sweet that they just want to get closer to you just to smell you, and definitely not when you touch them as if they were made of glass (and they weren't, but to them, you clearly are).

Before they met you, you were in need of a job and well... you had a very unforgettable first meeting with them that they just have to keep you to themselves.

"I'm sorry, the landlord upped the expense of the rent." You said, giving them an apologetic look as you handed them each a plastic bottle of cold water. "And he wouldn't exactly leave me alone..." You added, unbeknown of the eyes glowing yellow at the mention of the bastard who wouldn't leave you alone when you turned around to fix the papers.

Romance hums, stepping closer to you. "We did offer that you could stay with us," He voiced, placing a hand on your waist.

You look up at the male who stared down at you, a dreamy look on his face as he tried his hardest not to brush his hand on your soft-looking cheek. "Like I said, there aren't exactly many rooms in the house you reside in that could let me stay there." You pointed out.

It was true, the house they stayed in or more likely, stolen from people before they got their souls, only had five bedrooms, fitting for the five of them.

The heart shaped haired male had his eyes trail over to your plump lips and before he could quip something else, he was suddenly bumped to the side by their muscular member who couldn't help but replace the hand on your waist with his own, pulling you closer to his bigger frame. "Just stay with us." He whispers, voice deep.

You can't help but feel your heart racing at his words but put some distance by leaning back, "Abby, that's not very nice. You just hurt Romance." You frowned as you turn to the other male who immediately changed his glare pointed to Abby to a happy smile as he saw you turn to him.

"He's a big boy, he can handle a little bump." Abby rolls his eyes as Baby snickers.

Before you could tell him to apologize, Jinu walks over to you. "They're right, you know. You wouldn't have to deal with your landlord if you just stayed with us, I can just give you my room and sleep on the living room." He offers, hoping he could change your mind and stay with them instead.

"It's fine, guys really. Thanks for the offer but I really can't, you already appointed me as your manager even when I don't have much experience..." You murmured before feeling Abby's hand on your waist tighten. "It's just some old guy anyway, it's not that big of a deal." You try to reassure, lips turned up in the pretty smile that softened their exteriors.

"Do you want me to take care of him for you?" Everyone turned to Mystery who uttered those words, the rest grumbled, clearly wanting to be the one to say that to you.

You look confused by what he meant but shook your head, "No, it's alright, you don't have to."

"I'd do anything for you," The male mumble as he watched you refuse their offers some more, clearly not having heard what he mumbled.

Baby slumps into your back making you let out a cute little yelp at the added weight, "You can just sleep with me." He said, lips brushing over the back of your neck causing you to shiver.

The others immediately disproved of that.

They watched as their little Ms. Manager gave them a wave goodbye before walking off towards the bus stop.

It was silent for a bit before Baby saja finally says, "We're getting rid of him, right?"

The next day, you slammed the door open, breathing shakily as the Saja boys turned to you in concern. You were trying to catch your breath, practically running here to inform them of the news that had been delivered to you by a fellow neighbour.

"You alright, pretty girl?" Romance was the first to ask as Jinu stopped the music.

Their concern was a facade of course. They know what you were gonna say, practically smelled your scent miles away as you moved to get to them. They held back smirks of their own as they stared down at your form.

"H-he... the landlord- he's dead," You said, eyes wide and clearly still in shock. "One of my neighbours saw dismembered bodies and- oh gosh... it sounded so frightening."

The whimpers you let out highened their growing arousal as they stared at you, eyes darkening as they fought the urge to take you right then and there.

"Wh-what if that happens to me-" You were tearing up now.

Oh, those tears. Those beautiful tears.

Baby licks his lower lip at the sight, the desire to lick them with his tongue growing. He can't help but wonder what you tasted.

Jinu walks up to you immediately, in faux concern, placing a hand on you shoulder to comfort you. "We're very sad to here that..." He said with a frown and furrowed his eyebrows. "But you shouldn't worry about that happening to you, Ms. Manager."

You look up at him and the dark haired male praised himself for not pouncing on you at the sight. Sniffling, you asked. "Wh-what?"

He gave you a small yet reassuring smile, "If you stay with us, you'd never get hurt by that awful killer on the loose."

"We'll be sad without our pretty little manager to tend to our needs..." Abby adds on.

"We need you, I need you." Mystery whispers.

Your body was shaking, overwhelmed by everything that's happening.

However, if this little thing didn't change your mind yet... then they'd just have to take you, with or without your consent. You're theirs after all.

You were just their pretty, dumb manager and they'd eliminate anyone who would stand in the way of their love.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (Part 1)

The plane was late. The girls weren’t here and Bobby was freaking out. The crowd gathered outside the arena was rising into a crescendo, in raw anticipation. The tension was palpable, it was as if the energy was fizzling from the fans into the very ground of the stadium.

‘Everyone ready? Lets look alive!’ The man with medium length hair spun around, pointing at everyone, checking on progress. Bobby, the manager of Huntr/x frantically flitted around, looking absolutely frazzled.

‘Okay, ready? Yeah, we’re ready. But where are the girls?’ He frowned, turning around to Y/N. The girl in return, shrugged, her eyes glued into her notebook. She was writing a new song. One just in case Huntr/x decided to do another comeback early. The girl group was known for being random with their timings. This meant it make Y/N's job that much harder.

‘Check their location.' She sighed before looking up.

'Although, it isn't exactly unlike them to be late.’ Y/N shrugged, flicking back through her little black notebook. She wrinkled her nose, slightly concerned for the group's well being.

Y/N knew their little secret, for she was their trump card. You see, Y/N was the ghost writer. The one who made sure all the songs went viral, ensuring that the honmoon remained steadfast in its hold. It wasn't an easy job seeing as the songs had to chart well and actually be enjoyable. However, the girls did have great voices so that made it slightly easier.

‘It shows their plane veering off course?’ Bobby flipped his phone around, shoving it above Y/N’s notebook.

The girl looked up and gave a sly grin.

‘Start the music, they’ll arrive.’

Like comets raining down, the three managed to make it onto stage, half way through the song. Y/N looked out into the cheering crowd from behind the curtains, narrowing her eyes at the thin lines rippling with light. Tonight’s concert would be enough. Just enough to keep the shield up. It would hold until their next comeback after this concert. Right?

--

‘Did we just see gold?’ 

‘Ah! I can’t believe we’re doing it!’

‘It’s so exciting!’

The three cheered, shaking each other in sheer joy.

‘This means we can release our song soon and turn the honmoon gold!’ Rumi cheered.

Y/N gritted her teeth, slightly resentful. It was her song. She was the one who wrote it, slaved over it for weeks to make sure it sounded perfect for the girls.

‘It’s finally time!’ Mira exclaimed

‘Wooo!’ Rumi cheered until her voice suddenly cracked, her cheer suddenly muted. ‘Whoa that was weird.’

‘Do you need some water?’ Y/N mumbled, as the elevator doors opened.

‘Did someone say water?’ Bobby grinned, before gesturing frantically and calling out. ‘Water. Now!’

Y/N sighed, walking out from behind the group, watching how they all were showered in praise. Praise that never seemed to be shared with Y/N. It wasn't as if she was asking for all the credit, however it would be nice to hear a thank you once in a while.

‘What a way to end the world tour! And that guy in the finale who exploded confetti?’

‘Amazing special effects.’ Y/N cut in briskly, side eyeing Mira who returned her glance with a slightly panicked one.

‘Yeah it was super chill. Amazing song writing by the way Y/N.’ He added almost as a sidenote.

Y/N sighed and began to zone out. She didn’t need to be there anymore. It was time to go home whilst the girls decided what to do. Y/N had finished writing Golden two weeks before and Huntr/x had already recorded the song, meaning Y/N could rest. It would be a long time since Y/N was able to go home and get a full nights rest instead of being in the studio, mixing and mastering a new song for Huntr/x.

She trudged her way onto the dark streets where her own penthouse apartment resided. It was one of the perks for owning royalty on all the songs of Huntr/x. At least Y/N had been smart enough to invest in the shares of the company with her money. At this rate? She wouldn’t have to work for the next fifty years if she wanted to. Her retirement was set.

The streetlamps left much to the imagination, however, Y/N was too tired to be wary. The streets here were safe. It was a rich neighbourhood anyways. 

Y/N’s phone pinged.

Golden was being released in an hour.

Well that wasn't the plan. But then, did the girls ever tell her of any plans they had? She gritted her teeth, looking at the notification on her phone.

Was it wrong for her to feel slightly resentful? She could see the lines. She could see what the other girls could see, but she couldn’t harness the spiritual power to create a weapon. Y/N was an anomaly. A failure of a hunter.

She scrolled the comments, phone tightening in her hand as she read through each one. The praise was lavished onto the girls. Mira, Zoey and Rumi. Nothing mentioned her, the song writer, the producer. The reason Huntr/x even had songs to sing.

‘You’re looking awfully tense.’ A smooth, plush, voice noted.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her phone into the shadows.

‘Who’s there?’ She snarled, eyes darting between the flickering streetlights.

‘Don’t be afraid. This won’t hurt one bit.’ Another voice snickered.

…

A pause.

Then another.

Then ten seconds had passed.

‘Um, what?’ The first voice sounded confused.

‘What am I supposed to be waiting for?’ Y/N shifted her posture, now feeling more confident.

‘Your soul. We were meant to take your soul.’ A deep voice muttered, as five boys stalked out of the shadows separately.

‘What the f-’

‘Who are you?’ The one with black hair, took point, walking towards her with a hungry glint.

‘My mother taught me not to tell my name to strangers.’ She snipped back, studying the new figures walking towards her. They were otherworldly in beauty. Jaws chiselled, faces unblemished and fair.

A flash of purple, jagged lines across skin.

‘You’re demons.’ Y/N deadpanned, facepalming. ‘No wonder you’re all so damn pretty.’

The one with pink long hair and heart shaped bangs snickered, sidling up to her. ‘You think we’re pretty?’ He gave a sickly sweet grin, reaching toward her chin.

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself asshat.’ Y/N slapped away his hand. ‘I’m actually not into pretty boys so don’t even try.’ Her body was tight, poised to jump at any time. Even if she couldn't harness the spirit power, she could fight just as well as the rest of the hunters.

‘Maybe she's more into guys like me.’ The one on her left spoke up, shifting into her line of sight.

Y/N’s eyes traced over the muscled man, her eyes lingering on his revealed abdomen as he stretched.

‘Huh, gym rats. Also not my type.’ She shook her head, turning to leave. ‘I’m not into conventionally attractive men. I don’t share.’ 

‘Who says you have to share?’ 

Y/N jumped slightly, surprised by the man with black hair standing now in front of her.

‘We know you write all of Huntr/x’s songs. It’s how they're so popular.’ The one with purple hair, wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulder.

‘Don’t touch me.’ She brushed him off, backing away into a wall.

‘Yeah?’ The wall replied.

‘Huh?’ Y/N turned around, only to be met by a wall of solid muscle. ‘OKAY STOP.’ She whisper-yelled. ‘What do you guys want from me? I don’t carry cash.’

'What? We don' want your money.' The one with blue hair chuckled, leaning on a lamp post.

'We want something more valuable.' The tallest said, flicking away his pink bangs.

'And that is?' Y/N narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the group of strange yet alluring men.

‘Write for us. We need a debut single in three days.’ The one who looked like the leader gave a wicked smile.

‘What makes you think I would do that?’ Y/N crossed her arms, tilting her head in a question.

‘Because we can give you what you want. Fame, recognition, power.’ 

'Who says-' Y/N began before falling to her knees, clutching her head.

Unbeknownst to her, the boys hurriedly gathered around her as she fell, the closest catching her before she collapsed on her side.

The outside world was suddenly cut off from Y/N's mind. It was silent.

And then it began.

Pain.

Throbbing pain as visions filled her head. It was searing, as if a hot knife were being twisted. Visions, sounds, memories. This wasn’t her world. This was the world of…

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS.

Part 2

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari rubbed her eyes with a soft sniffle and took a breath. Hawks words and presences had helped her calm down. Sure the pain still lingered, but it didn't hurt as much. "I... I wanna keep going. No, I need to keep going." She chirped softly after a moment. "I can't just stop now. Not yet." She informed and turned back to look over more hero logs for her father.

Training logs showing his improvement, journals that dated before Kari's birth, interviews, news reports, and so on. Eventually Kari stopped on a journal entry dated a few weeks after Kari's birth.

"August 5, I brought Kari home for the first time. She's gained a bit of weight which is good. She's such an active little girl. Kitearo was immediately so protective despite how he acted before. I guess seeing how small she was and having processed what happened helped him a lot. Therapy has been a huge help for all of them. Shade us still sneaking top shelf books when I'm not looking, last time I saw her reading Moby Dick to Kari and immediately stepped in. We made an agreement that if she didn't read these to Kari then I'd allow her to read certain top shelf books with supervision. She's enjoying spending time with Kari, reading her books while she's is in Shade's lap. Boom and Beats always love to play with Kari, running around happily with toys and including Kati in their games. Flo shows Kari a ton of different plants, mainly flowers. Fino likes to have Kari ride on his back while in a random animal form. I feel like these kids will super close when they're older. Sure they'll get into arguments and maybe even fights, but thats life. I'm just happy it looks like things are gonna be alright. Still waiting for Boom and Beats to get their quirks, I'm not sure what they'll be since Mikomi's quirk is so different. She never explained why, but I have a rough understanding. Either way, I've made up my mind and I'll help with hero work in some other way, but I'll be retiring as a pro hero before Kari's first birthday. I can't risk it right now, there is too much at stake. I'll keep doing my best for them. - Lynx Himura."

Kari gave a soft smile then went to type in her mother's hero name and began looking through the hero logs there. Eventually she came across an interview, roughly around the same time as Lynx, though it was off by a few days.

"Hello, thank you for meeting with us, Angelic."

"Of course, I'm glad I could make it work. Been super busy and all." Mikomi laughed. Her eyes, while a different color, were roughly the same shape as Kari's. Though Kari's were a bit more pointed and Mikomi's slightly more rounded. But it was easy to see the resemblance.

"Yea, you've been very busy it seems. Your already the number six hero and you're still pretty young. Any insight as to why you're working do hard?"

"Ah, going for that question already. Fair enough. Well, it's kinda has to do with my quirk being so easy to... adapt to different situations so I can help out in many areas. So I'm able to be noticed more often and so on. That and I just like helping. It feels right to me. Don't get me wrong the money is nice too but I'm not wanting for anything. I'm actually only using what I need and saving the rest for future emergencies or plans."

"You planning on starting a family?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But I'll never let that information slip. I'm aiming high after all. If I have kids and I'm in the top three, their lives could be in danger so I'm keeping stuff like that close to my chest." Mikomi looked to the camera and smiled knowingly almost, in Kari's direction. Kari shivered a bit.

"Thats fair," the reporter hummed off camera and Mikomi looked back at the reported. "Now, about your quirk--"

"Sorry but I'm not divulging information about my quirk either." Mikomi was quick to interrupt. "I know it is different and rather weird but I'd like to keep that to myself as well."

"Ah, I see. Well, what about your relationship with Redone?"

"Oh, I--" Mikomi blushed a bit with a grin. "Well, it's a long story but after moving back from America, I had to go cuz of my mom's job, we reconnected in highschool and haven't really been apart since. He's really sweet and caring. We've been together for a while actually."

"Can we plan on a hero wedding anytime soon?"

"Ya know, I watched his interview last week and I tried asking him when he came by with the sweet buns. He just laughed and told me he'd propose when the time is right. I'm not sure when but I'm sure everyone will be made aware eventually." Mikomi chuckled softly. The interview went on, more questions, some dodged some answered. But all in all Kari got a good feel for Mikomi's personality. Kind but firm, not willing to take bullshit but not rude either. Stands her ground and proud of it.

Kari smiled and went on to find some missions, training logs, and a family tree. Kari widened her eyes. There she was with her siblings, her mother, her father, even her grandparents. There was Maica, Core, Core's father. Her whole family.

Looks like Lynx had two younger brothers one of which was deceased while the other was still alive but no where in Japan and no contact information listed and he looked to be estranged. Lynx's parents were listed too though his father passed away the same year as one if his brothers while Lynx's mother passed two years before Kari was born. Kari frowned, concluding an accident happened that took Lynx's father and brother. She shook it off and opened up a journal from her mother, taking a breath.

"I'm simply writing this so it is on record in case something happens to me and one of my children develops my quirk-" Kari perked up a bit. "I don't know if it'll come to that but dad said it's better safe than sorry. He probably knows something since we share a quirk and all. Thats besides the point. I plan on having this under heavy lock and key until I die or if one of my children requests it or whatever. I'm not the best with formal stuff but I'll try my best. Either way, I am Mikomi Himura. Mother to Kitearo Himura, wife to Lynx Himura. My quirk is called All of the Above. It is a highly adaptive quirk, able to integrate any other quirk upon seeing it, though it takes time. My DNA is very unstable for lack of a better way of putting it. My son's quirk is vastly different to mine. Well, it's going to be, he hasn't developed it yet but I already know. Sir Nighteye's quirk has been super helpful in calming the nerves of a new mother. For the most part at least, but I'm keeping that close to my chest for now."

Kari shivered a bit, having a feeling she knew what Mikomi was referring to but kept reading.

"As for the specifics of my quirk, I'm able to use a quirk I've copied with in a certain length of time after seeing it, depending on the type. A week or two for emmiter quirks, two to three weeks for transformation and accumulation quirks, and four weeks for mutation quirks. I don't just copy the quirk, but a snap shot of the person as well for lack of a better way of putting it. It can be refreshed if I see that person again but yea. Ugh this is more difficult to explain than I thought. Uh, the reason there is a snap shot is because I can call on it to help learn quirks more effectively, they take over my body and I learn through muscle memory. The quirks I have copied as well as the snap shots of the people will be passed on to which ever of my children inherits my quirk but those quirks will be locked until certain things are met, I'm not sure how that all works. Dad hasn't explained it and I haven't figured it out. It's weird to explain and better to show but I don't plan on dying so ill be able to show my kid when the time comes. Regardless, this is just a precaution and I don't plan on needing it. With that I'm closing this journal."

Kari blinked, moving to look through more journal entries. Some where around the time she was pregnant with her siblings. Then another caught Kari's eye.

"It's July 20th today. I'm feeling pretty weak from this pregnancy. Little Kari is really sapping me, but that's fine. I've had six kids before her so I'll be okay. But I'm not gonna lie this one has been rougher than all the others so I'm a bit worried. My due date isn't for another two month so it's fine."

"July 25th, something isn't right. I asked Lynx to take me to the hospital to have a check up. I might need emergency surgery. Kari might be born sooner than expected."

After that journal entry Kari found an obituary for her mother. "Number 3 hero dies for unspecified reasons." It lists the funeral date as well as other information.

Kari sighed softly, going over to Hawks and clinging to him, shaking and crying in weak sobs. She just needed a moment to process it all. "I... I know it's not my fault... but a part... A part if me still... still hurts." Kari hiccuped, nuzzling into Hawks' leg, just letting it all out. "I wanna know her. Who would she have been? What would be going on right now if she were alive? Why did she have to die cuz of me? It's not fair." The child cried, trying to hold back a bit but still needing to let out some emotions before continuing, if she even wanted to.

Hawks stood beside Kari the whole time, his usual laid-back expression softened into something quiet and pained. He didn’t say much while she clicked through the files—he didn’t need to. His hand gripped hers back just enough to remind her he was there, grounding her, steady and real in a space full of shadows from the past.

When Kari tried to lighten the mood at the end, Hawks crouched down a little to her level and gently brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. His expression didn’t shift into pity—it never did. Instead, it was the expression of someone who understood, who had lived through too many ghosts of his own.

“Two pounds, huh?” he murmured with a gentle smile. “And now look at you. Tough enough to face all this head-on, brave enough to want answers even when you knew they’d hurt. That kind of strength? That’s rare, Kari. That’s hero stuff.”

He let the words settle before continuing, his thumb brushing over her knuckles where their hands were still locked together.

“Your dad loved you. All of you. You can feel it in every word he wrote—even when things were falling apart, his thoughts were on keeping you safe. That’s not something a lot of kids get to grow up knowing. But you? You’ve got that. You’ve got him with you every time you use your quirk, every time you snort like he did.” Hawks grinned a little at that, trying to lift her spirit without pushing her too fast.

He then stood and offered his other hand to steady her.

“We can look for more when you’re ready—your mom’s records, maybe some old hero logs. But we don’t have to do it all today. There’s no rush. What matters is you have this now. It’s a part of you, but it doesn’t have to define you.”

He gave her hand a soft squeeze, his wings flexing slightly behind him.

“You wanna keep going? Or you want a break, maybe get something warm to drink, clear your head?” he asked gently, letting her take the lead again. “Whatever you choose, I’m here, little bird.”

[wisteria-lodge]

What do you think about Draco’s and James’s similarities + differences but opposite treatment in the narrative?

Since Draco does have a full detailed explanation behind his behavior, he was raised to think it’s okay but they should keep up appearances, and he often witnessed others doing it first. James does not have any sort of explanation other than his parents pampered him.

Both said “Think I’d leave, wouldn’t you”. However Draco said it in context of trying to find something to bond with Harry over whereas James just wanted to bully Snape.

In Goblet of Fire, Draco points out how the death eaters could attack Hermione to scare the Trio into leaving him alone, however James actually did what the death eaters and threatened to do worse since he took his frustrations with Lily out on Snape. In Said confrontations, The Trio were the ones who accidentally came across Draco but James approached Snape out of boredom.

Both had prejudiced beliefs but Draco actually gave up his childhood prejudices but we have no proof James did.

While James did help Snape, he was also helping His friends and he went right back to sadisticly bullying and he was the main instigator.

Draco spared his enemies and tried helping them with no ulterior motives and fully expecting to be tortured/killed. While he did go to Harry in the room of requirement, he didn’t actively participate in the attacking, aside from trying to stop Crabbe from attacking the Trio. He also even expresses concern for Harry.

Yet James is somehow seen as more heroic.

James dies, Draco doesn't. It's the Draco vs Regulus framing thing all over again. As far as JKR is concerned, dying heroically just fixes everything, I guess.

A related part of her worldview is that suffering purifies you and makes you a better person. I do think that's the intended purpose of the super deliberate James + Draco parallels ("I think I'd leave, wouldn't you? [if I was sorted into X house]" - is really on the nose.) It's supposed to communicate how Harry would have looked, if he'd grown up like James or Draco. (Wealthy, only child, wizard parents who dote on him and spoil him.) Under difference circumstances, Harry could have had more of an ego, been more entitled, given into the brutal streak that he does have. When we first see school-age James, he's described as "It was as though [Harry] was looking at himself but with deliberate mistakes." That's a very interesting description, and I think ties in nicely to an "alternate universe Harry" reading.

This is also something that seems to have been on Dumbledore's mind. He describes 11-year-old Harry as "You were not a pampered little prince [ie, James], but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well."

So: As far as he's concerned, leaving Harry with the Dursleys is not just justified but good, because it's made Harry a better person. Considering that Dumbledore, Snape, Dudley, Ron (arguably Draco) also have personal growth arcs kick-started through suffering... I'd say this is a point of view the text supports overall.

But another thing... is that I've always thought JKR writes friend group dynamics really, really well. They're messy, shifting, warm, tight-knit and complicated. Outside dynamics like class, politics, and discrimination come in, and bounce around in unpredictable ways. Even if there was some way to cleanly add up everyone's 'bullying points' and 'victim points' or whatever, and plug them into some formula, and be able to come out with some definitive statement like "Draco had it worse than Peter" - I wouldn't want to do it. What makes the Harry+Ron+Hermione+Draco dynamic interesting... and what makes the James+Remus+Sirius+Peter+Severus+Lily+Regulus dynamic even *more* interesting... is that basically everyone has an area in which they're powerful or privileged, another area where they're vulnerable or disenfranchised (with the possible exception of James)... and it makes for these fantastically complex character dynamics and vicious cycles.

Because every single one of these characters is written with some degree of ambiguity, (some more than others...) which ones you gravitate towards, and which ones you dislike end up being more of a personal Rorschach test than anything rooted in the books.

Like, I can see from your ask that you're inclined to give Draco a very positive edit. (and I mean, come on, I love Draco too.) You read Draco as vulnerable during the scene where the Golden Trio finds him the woods during the World Cup chaos, and decides to "scare the Trio into leaving him alone." That is absolutely a read that makes sense, but it's one that you're bringing to the book, there's nothing in that scene to suggest that Draco feels threatened. My personal read is that Draco - always squeamish about violence - is actually worried about Hermione on some unexamined level, because everything he says during that scene is advice on how to protect her, just expressed in a really asshole-ish way. But I think the read intended by JKR is - here's Draco, being an asshole, dishing out some exposition.

[viceconnor21]

I don’t know much about Cub and I’m more or less going on what I see in other creators videos and my own AU stuff.

Here’s the short lore!

Cubfan135

Name: Interstellar Hue

Species: Dragon

-Scientist

Studies stella creatura (Star creatures)

Special interest in Ursa majors and minors

Studies how star-based creatures are related and how they interact with the physical plane (like Tantabuses)

-Studied briefly in Canterlot under the guidance of the Lunar Ruler.

The Lunar Ruler holds dominion over the night and dreams, with shared control of the moon and stars.

Magic Studies, with a focus in space and stars, only to find a niche in Stella creaturas studies.

-Was studying Ursa Minors in their natural habitat of the Magic Mountains (The Mountains that surround the Hermit Valley.)

Found an injured pony-like creature that the Ursas were trying to care for.

This pony was Warden Void.

Warden Void is an Equuleus Minor that was stripped from Equuleus Major status after his kingdom/domain fell.

Unlike the Ursa Minors, his body was not able to regulate his star form.

- Interstellar Hue, using his extensive knowledge of space and star magic, plus fallen fragments from Warden’s kingdom that fell with him, to construct a kind of exo-suit to ease some stress this current dimension has on the star pony’s body. (Ultimately saving the his life)

- The fallen god and the dragon become quick friends.

- Interstellar cared for the pony during the rest of his field study

He learned of Warden Void’s trauma and tragedy of his kingdom

- During this time, the pony regained some strength but still required his exo-suit to survive and together they made the suit livable for the long term.

- After Warden Void established his roots in the Hermit Valley and Interstellar's field work was complete, Warden Void asked him to stay,

The dragon was his first friend of this dimension.

- Interstellar agreed and was given free reign to study magic the way he wanted to.

- Interstellar is also looking for a way to help Void’s body remain stable without the suit and/or to help him regain his status of Equuleus Major.

---

Intimidating when people first meet him

Doesn’t smile much but is actually happy

Overall a nice guy

Struggles with social cues

Blunt but is good natured

Will let you when he is not interested in something

Loves experimenting with magic

Loves color and presentation

Wants to find a solution to Void’s need for the exo-suit

Best friends with Terraform

Absolutely Brilliant

Loves the hermits, but also prefers to work alone

Organized

Always taking notes (always has his pencil)

Loves to cause his own type of mischief (corporate mischief perhaps)

Probably could have been evil genius if given the wrong circumstances

[starryjkoo]

so can we talk about jikook now 😭

Ask #2

the amount of crash outs happening these past few days lol https://x.com/jikookreports/status/1937517826106921229

lmao, where to even start oh my god 😭 sorry this is going to be all over the place

they just spent 18 months together but the first thing they wanted to do post-military was travel together (and feed swans)? so not only are they not sick of each other after all that, they actually wanted to spend more time together? All of the other members have been doing solo activities, traveling solo, meeting up with their other friends, but somehow jikook, the only two members who were never separated, are the ones traveling together? For over a week? 😭 and they’re being all cute, giggly, and happy?

i mean, it’s not surprising because it’s jikook, but it’s still one of those times where they randomly do something crazy that not even jikookers were anticipating. and they really, actually don’t get sick of each other, which is also crazy to me. you would have to get along with someone so well to be able to spend that much time with them and in all those different situations too. we again already knew that about jikook, but every time i’m reminded it still surprises me for some reason. it’s why the story of JK going to jimin’s room for hours to hang out has always been one of my favorites. being so close with someone that you literally seek them out just because you find comfort in their presence is just so…

if it really is ays i’m going to go even more crazy because they genuinely love that show so much and that’s always made me so soft. they had so much fun making it, coming up with the title, the little catchphrase, giggling over their mishaps and hoping armys would find it funny. they really loved those trips. i think they also loved it because it was their thing that they created together, if that makes sense. i thought they were even a little protective of it in jeju lol. i just think it’s sweet how much they loved it, so if they really wanted to continue it first thing out of the military? like they mentioned having all these late night conversations about their future plans, so were they really in their talking about taking trips together again too? 😭 no clue if ays is actually what they’re doing or if it’s something else but i’m excited either way. I’m really just glad it looks like they’re taking it easy and having fun, no matter what they’re up to.

also that dance challenge video was peak jikook. everything about it gives me cute aggression. how can they have so much fun just recording a little dance challenge? what do you even focus on, there’s just so many cute little moments? jk down there on the ground and the silly camera angles and the humming and giggling. they’re just so cute and playful, and what exactly are they laughing about? the way they STILL just have so much fun doing whatever together? and seeing jimin dance again was like crack, he’s just amazing, i can’t wait to see him back on stage. i’m glad that he posted because there’s nothing better than getting confirmation straight from the source so yeah i guess those of us who were holding back can freely scream now lmao 😭

genuinely so curious what they’re up to and where all they’ve been but i guess we’ll find out eventually it’s just nice to know that they’re having fun. hopefully people will give them space and privacy. so curious if jimin will actually go to the dior show! also i would die if what they’re doing has anything to do with music. i kind of doubt it but that would be awesome. honestly it’s just nice to be reminded they’re free and out of there and we’re going to be getting any kind of content from them lol (solo or duo or ot7, even random social media updates).

but it’s a really cute way to close out their military service considering they traveled together right before they enlisted and that was partially the theme of the show. in sapporo it even felt heavy at times because it was clearly on their mind and on top of everything else they were using the trip as a way to make memories to look back on while they were in there (something they literally voiced). it really is full circle that the first thing they wanted to do was travel together again. that might be the format they feel comfortable sharing their military stories with us considering they can edit out anything that they’re not supposed to share. idk, there’s just so much to unpack, but we still really have no idea what’s up so 😭 it might not be anything like we’re expecting too, or it might not be content at all who knows.

and yeah we’re about to see the most insane crash outs 🥴 although i guess they’ve already started crashing out. i haven’t been online too much yet so i haven’t seen the scope of it but the link you sent + i know especially JJKs were really upset leading up to this already. i think other people have already articulated and called out how insane and entitled those sorts of fans are. it’s genuinely crazy to see them threaten to unstan because jkk are hanging out when they’ve always been like this. not sure what else jikook are going to have to do for these people to understand that they genuinely just enjoy being around each other. was enlisting together and talking about relying on each other not clear enough? JK calling ays the best trips of his life or talking about doing twelve more seasons not enough? it’s also kind of pathetic that they have to make everything about “fanservice” instead of just acknowledging that jikook are, i don’t know, friends? 🥴 they’d really shade the person they supposedly stan instead of just admitting jikook enjoy hanging out together. or do they really just see all their interactions as romantic?

they’re just constantly trying to gaslight themselves that jikook hate each other so they can feel better about their own feelings/ship. Or they're so narcissistic they can’t help but project their own feelings onto jikook and fully believe it’s reality. those sorts of fans just want to control them, live vicariously through them and their careers, and have no care or respect for them as individuals and human beings. and the fans crashing out about wanting music instead, it’s so stupid because they’re obviously going to be working on music and other solo projects soon (they could even be doing that right now). so it’s not about that, it’s just that THEY can’t stand jkk being close which is so pathetic. and no, i don’t have any issue with people just not being interested in certain content (some ppl straight up just don’t like non-music content in general and that’s fine), but that’s not the situation with these “fans”.

also those anti-jikook narratives are just so ridiculous and stupid and they look even crazier post military. jikook very clearly have autonomy to do whatever they want to do, just like all the other members are doing right now. they’re trying to come up with all these excuses for a possible ays season 2 instead of considering that jikook just enjoyed making it and wanted to do it again. or whatever they’re doing together is simply because it’s something they want to do. the company cant force any of them to do shit 😭 (which is funny because if tkkrs could they would absolutely make the company force tkk to do a subunit since they’re so obsessed with trying to demand it even though if tkk wanted to they just would). trust if this was a calculated move by the company then we’d be getting ot7 content or tkk content, not jkk when literally their solos hate each other the most, there already is jkk content, and when they’re the most disliked duo in the fandom (obviously they have a ton of fans, but no duo is actively disliked more than jkk either). literally saw some armys tkkrs actually whining about it being more likely that we get a jkk subunit before tkk as if that’s a normal response to seeing jkk hanging out together. this fandom man…

another thing is that jikook aren’t oblivious to the fact that there are a lot of people who don’t like seeing them together. but they clearly don't care 😭. i’m sure they know the situation with each others solos, and even shippers to an extent. the fact that their first activity out of the military is doing something together just shows how little regard they have for any fans that dislike or diminish their friendship and that they will continue to do whatever the hell they want. i just think that’s so cool? they stay unbothered and catering to no one but genuine fans who appreciate them for who they are and respect them doing whatever they want to do.

just kind of rambling now, but i also think it’s cool how they’re fine with their branding having this much overlap? because yeah jikook are being associated a lot with each other officially lately. that’s honestly just because they’re close and enjoy doing things together and i don’t think anything more to it than that. but basically everything post military has been jikook. their whole official press conference return, their return live, their photobooth pictures and first social media posts (has JK even posted anything other than JM yet? sorry if i’m forgetting 😭). jimin has posted jk several times now (still soft about him using still with you), and now their first official activity might be something together.

i really hope this isn’t taken the wrong way. obviously they are very serious about their solo careers which are wholly their own and have nothing to do with the other and i’m expecting them to go all in on that soon. not claiming at all they don’t want to be seen as individuals because they very much do and should be and i can’t wait for jjk2 and pjm3 and their solo concerts. they work so insanely hard on their solo carers and i know that they're both workaholics and probably already have a bunch of insane stuff planned. i hate when people try to associate everything they do with the other. but it’s cool that they also just… i don’t know, don’t mind it to this degree? are cool with this level of association? that it’s just kind of happening naturally because they’re just… genuinely close like that lol? despite the fact that so many people hate seeing them together, which is something i’m sure they know?

well, this is getting away from me a bit, just happy about jikook and happy all of bts are finally free, solo content coming (very likely jjk2 and tour and im sure jm will also hopefully do something 🙏), group album possibly as soon as march. it’s nice to have these things to gush about and look forward to especially with everything else going on in the world right now 🫠 seeing jimin dancing again was healing and jikook’s giggles were healing and them feeding swans is so patented jikook wholesome lol and also healing. and also they’ve both just seemed so incredibly happy in every piece of content post-military and that’s so nice to see? that dance challenge was really everything because it’s just nice to see them silly and playful and happy. jimin’s silliness in that video and then the way he clocked in for the last half? i know they’re both itching to get back on stage which has me so excited as a fan as well.

and yeah it’s nice that i can finally unleash lol because i didn’t want to get all sappy on it until there was some sort of confirmation, because they do make me really soft. just kind of amazing to have someone in life you love and connect with that much, whatever type of love, it’s just really warm and rare to find. it’s insane that some people are so nasty inside that they begrudge them that closeness because they’re selfish and insecure when they clearly provide so much support and happiness to each other. but anyways glad as always that jikook continue to do their thing, and i’m really excited for ch3.

[firingstars]

no one asked for this, but this is a dissection of my own fic bc i love this characterization of bucky x reader and tbh i might just do this to other fics that i adore. <3

Bucky hated his phone, but he still texted you often. Texted you good morning and good night every single day.

guys bucky wrote reader a LOVE LETTER in the first fic and told her during their first date that he hated his phone and everything about it. however?? bro still texts reader like its his job. like its the only thing he knows.

You were pretty certain that he wasn’t joking when he said that he assassinated JFK, too. Except, you were drunk when he confessed that to you during a drinking game that you two were doing when you first started dating. You don’t know if you dreamt it. Bucky refuses to comment, like a true politician.

bucky tells reader everything. he told reader everything about his past. and obviously, she took it like a champ. this was part of his non-negotiables that he quietly hinted at during match made that he was kinda scared to actually say out loud. someone to accept him and his faults. the reason why he fully accepted reader to begin with was because during the first date she said:

“Well, you can’t run from me,” you smiled at him, “I already know your past. There’s nothing that you need to hide from me that I’ll be scared of.” (this is from match made not locked in lols)

AND SHE DIDNT EVEN KNOW THE EXTENT OF IT she js knew what was put online as the backlash bc of the mfs that were like ?? congressman assassin???!?!? extra: bucky once asked her what she thought abt that and she said she still thinks he's better than the other politicians by a loooooonnnnggg shot so she rly doesnt care extra extra: she's worked with clients that are way worse than him and never elaborated. bucky is confused on what that could possibly mean

You finish your own skincare routine faster than he does, as per usual.  “I don’t understand why the hell I have to do this, doll,” he grumbled as you left the bathroom. “I’m over a century old.”

bucky complains, but does he ever mean it??? no. bro is whipped. always whipped. do not forget man is the same man that did not understand reader when she said people generally have one love language. he has all five.

- “Just a present. Saw it, thought it would look nice on you.” - His card is slid into your palm, and his lips are pressed against your knuckles. “I’ll pay for you and Mel,” he said, giving you one more smile. - “I bought [these shoes] for you,” he said, tilting his head as he examined the design a little closer. ... he always wanted to be the kind of man that was able to spoil his girl rotten– to bring his woman to the best places and sign the check without batting an eye.

and the influx of flowers after reader confirms that she loves flowers teehee. he's always getting her flowers. there's always fresh flowers somewhere. always. if he sees the flowers he last got her wilting?? oh lord. someone's dying

- He learned over time that you just wanted silence, the same way that he did. - Bucky answered any questions that you possibly could’ve had for him, already knowing what you would’ve thrown his way. - ... you still had to do work when you came home ... Bucky seemed to plan for that, which is why he had a room specifically made for a home office for the two of you.  - “Do you know how many times you have ranted to me about the fact you hate restaurant proposals? You hate planning them, and you hate watching them. Why would I ever propose to you in a restaurant?”

the wording was very deliberate- bucky learned over time. do you know how many times. there was trial and error in the beginning of their relationship bc bucky still wasn't up to speed with modern dating (and obviously still isnt with how nervous he was about asking to move in) but reader was very patient with him throughout all the speed bumps bc she understands his struggles and his past, which is exactly what he was looking for from the very beginning of this whole matchmaking shenanigans

idk this entire fic was just a love letter to reader because i didn't feel like writing an actual

dear y/n, blah blah blah love, bucky

kinda thing.

someone did ask me what the love letter did entail and i rly did entertain the idea of writing the love letter... but i felt too lazy. so this fic if what came out of it. which honestly. feels like the opposite of laziness.

locked in

— a sequel to match made

congressman!bucky x matchmaker!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend have been together for a strong nineteen months and counting. problem is, you’re starting to notice he’s hiding things from you.

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, semi-public (?) stuffs, oral (f+m receiving), hair pulling, face grabbing, fingers in mouth, unprotected sex, backshots, fingering, window… sex…, soft dom bucky, slight sub reader, language, no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, bucky is the best boyfriend ever and loves you very much

word count: 15.2k

a/n: due to popular demand, here’s a second part! this is also my formal apology for whatever happened in love, persevering <3 please accept. // also if anyone saw this get prematurely posted with NOTHING attached you didn’t fucking see it. i wasn’t made aware until EIGHT HOURS LATER and the fic wasn’t even done yet!!! 😔 i always make my fic intro template things before my fics are done for motivation

masterlist

You almost lost your fucking job. 

You expected it, honestly. With the amount of lines you crossed, boundaries broken, and toes you stepped on… Yeah. There was only so much that your boss could take from you— star employee or not. 

Thankfully, your boss kept the whole thing quiet from the rest of your coworkers to spare you the embarrassment since you had the decency to come to her and tell her the truth. 

It still meant you had to refund Sam Wilson the entire Ador Luxury Matchmaking Package, which your boss was not happy about.

Sam, on the other hand, was over the moon. 

When he received the refund transaction, he called you almost immediately. You had to go into a private conference room to answer the call, away from your coworkers.

“Mr. Wilson,” you answered the phone, trying to keep your tone light.

“Hey, Ms. Matchmaker,” he said, suspicion in his voice. “Did Buck cancel his membership?”

“That is correct,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“I thought we had an agreement. I paid you guys extra to not allow him to bully you guys into ending the program,” Sam said. You can hear the frustration in his voice. You don’t blame him. “What happened?”

“I can assure you– the refund is not due to Congressman Barnes just cancelling the service,” you said. “In fact, he is no longer in need of my services.”

“What? Then he’s been on a date?” Sam asked. “If that’s the case, then why the refund? If the date was successful, then doesn’t Bucky get the benefits or whatever?”

There was no response from your end for a good handful of moments. You were stuck, unable to respond. You couldn’t figure out how to say the words in the most professional way possible. You needed to find the right concoction, just in case there was someone walking down the hall at that exact moment,  and overheard your conversation. 

In the end, all you could think was that Bucky was a dead man walking.

You were going to kill Bucky. You weren’t sure how you were going to do that, seeing as he was the one with the years of experience of fighting between the two of you, but you would do it. You were hoping that he would’ve told his one and only friend that he had a girlfriend. 

Then again, Bucky refused to answer any of Sam’s calls. You texted Sam back most of the time when you got ahold of Bucky’s phone, pretending to be Bucky. Bucky didn’t care that you were doing that– though you wondered if Sam would be heartbroken if he ever found out. 

“Hello?” Sam asked, calling out your name. “Are you there?”

“Congressman Barnes terminated his membership with Ador as he and I have mutually decided to pursue a more personal relationship with each other,” you quickly answered him, cringing at your own words. You took a quick breath in before continuing, “The refund is due to my own oversight, and is serving as an apology to you for wasting your time on our service. I truly hope that you will forgive me for being unable to maintain a more professional connection with the client.”

It was Sam’s turn to fall silent. You had to check your phone to make sure that the call was still active. There was a slight rustle on the other end, letting you know that he was still there– that he was on the other end, dissecting your words, gears processing through his mind.

“The matchmaker I hired is dating my friend?!” he cackled. 

“Mr. Wilson, I truly apologize for the inconvenience–” 

“There is no inconvenience!” he cut you off, still laughing. “Holy shit, let me tell you– after that first meeting with you? I asked Bucky what he thought about you as his matchmaker and his only words? He thought you were pretty. Would not say anything else. Fuck, listen, let me call you back– or let’s all go to dinner. You, me, Buck, and my girl. I gotta head down to the office and harass Bucky right now.”

You went on an unpaid suspension for eight weeks after the refund transaction went through. The HQ of Ador had to undergo a full on investigation to figure out if you were worth keeping around as an employee or not, seeing as you ended up breaking client-employee conduct. 

Your boss wasn’t awful, though. In fact, she was only pissed off about the refund because she knew that headquarters back in London would have been alerted. Either way, it was still the right thing to process the transaction. She promised you that she would be your biggest advocate during the investigation, and she would try to argue for you to get the time to be paid seeing as you were the best employee in the New York branch.

The second you told Bucky– who told Sam– you found money wired into your account the next business day. It was the same exact amount that you had refunded back to Sam. It was still more money than you would’ve made if you were working those eight weeks. 

Neither man told you how they got ahold of your bank information. Neither man would look you in the eye when you questioned them. 

So, you had eight weeks of basically overpaid, free vacation to do whatever the hell you wanted, and a new boyfriend. Which meant you spent damn near every single day in his office, cosplaying as some government worker– an intern or secretary. And you were helping him. You actually were. 

“You really don’t have to do any of this, baby,” Bucky told you. You had been coming for an entire week straight at this point.

“If I stay stationary for two months, I think I might die of brain failure,” you told him, stealing a stack of his files from him. “Besides. You look like you need some help. You should really hire a secretary. Or someone to help you out. A personal assistant, maybe?”

“I can handle it on my own,” he sighed, shaking his head. Despite his words, he looked grateful as you took the files to the lounge area of his office and spread them out on the coffee table.

“Tell that to me when you sleep more than two hours a night, handsome,” you said, tucking your legs under you.

With less sensitive information that he was allowed to hand over to you, you organized and kept tabs on. You summarized documents for him perfectly that made his life easier. You helped train other onboarding interns that didn’t know what the hell they were doing. You managed his calendar when he looked like he was about to combust into flames. You got to spend time with him during his breaks, have lunch with him, eat dinner with him, and he would drive you home, and spend the night with you most nights.

Not that anyone knew that, though. They thought you were an actual employee of this official government building in New York. With the way that you walked side by side with Bucky every single day, holding files and looking down at his work phone– they really thought that you were working for him.

“Where’s your secretary today?”

You don’t know who asked the question, and you don’t really care. There’s about three other officials in this room that barged in out of nowhere, when you were on Bucky’s lap. 

Both of you had panicked, and he had shoved you into the hiding space beneath his desk before any of them could see the scandalous position he had you in. 

Unluckily for him, he had chosen the wrong place to put you. 

“At a training session with other interns,” Bucky said, tone clipped and short. He was irritated at being interrupted out of nowhere, but also at the fact that you were ignoring his warnings. 

You grinned, pressing an innocent kiss to the hand that gripped over your wrist. Tight, but not enough to hurt you. You continued to palm over his hardening length with your free hand. 

You weren’t paying attention to any of the fancy words that were being thrown around over your head, but you were certain that Bucky wasn’t either. You rested the side of your head against his thigh, feeling the muscle tense and hardened at your touch as you continued to lazily play with him over the fabric of his dress pants. 

Bucky’s metal hand slipped from your wrist to your hair, carding through it and stopping at the base of your skull– another cautionary message being sent to you as Bucky tried to focus on the sudden meeting thrown his way. Thankfully, these men loved the sound of their own voices. They couldn’t hear you slowly unzip him, and free Bucky from the confines of his slacks. 

“Your thoughts, Congressman Barnes?”

Your boyfriend cleared his throat above you as your lips kissed the tip of his cock, wrapping your hand around the base of him to keep him in place as his dick twitched in response. You fought back the small hum that threatened to come forth as you licked up the small bead of precum that leaked out.

“It’s a very… worrying matter,” Bucky said slowly, clenching his jaw as he took in a slow breath. You licked a thin strip up from the base of his cock– focusing on the thick vein that you knew was sensitive. “That is very worrisome. And we’ll get to the bottom of this uh– worrying... issue.”

You paused at his words, unable to believe what you were hearing from him for a moment. You pulled away from him for a moment, hand still wrapped around his dick as you pressed your face to his thigh, trying to hide your laugh into his flesh. 

Bucky’s hand tugged back on your hair roughly, pulling your head back and away from his thigh. Immediately, his metal hand shifted from your hair to clasp around your face, covering your mouth. His fingertips dug into the soft skin of your cheeks, daring you to make another noise. Surprise and excitement shot through your body in response.  

You could test him. You could press it. 

You decided against it, and licked his palm instead, closing your eyes. You could feel his hand twitch against your face— he told you once that his arm was calibrated to feel sensations. That he felt nerves like his other arm did. You smiled just a little, then kissed right where your tongue had just been. 

All the while, your hand was still pumping at his dick in lazy strokes. Nothing too much, nothing that would alert anyone of your presence, nothing that would make him let out noises that were only yours to hear. 

“Right,” one of the officials said slowly. “Well– we have lunch with some of the other representatives in ten minutes. You are welcome to join us, Congressman. If your secretary comes back from her training, she is more than welcome to join us as well. Lord knows we need a little more eye candy around here.”

A chorus of laughter rang around the room, but not from Bucky. In fact, he just stared at them until their laughter became uncomfortable, and they awkwardly excused themselves. 

The second the door to his office shut, Bucky’s chair was rolled back instantly, and your hands weren’t touching him anymore. 

You were still on your knees, looking up at him as Bucky stared down at you, hand still on your face to shut you up before you had been caught laughing at his inability to form proper words with your mouth on his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he murmured, hand shifting to cradle your face.

A metal thumb brushed against your lip slowly, a shiver running down your spine involuntarily. His touch was gentle. Reverent. He touched you like you were made of glass. Unlike the blown out, hungry look in his eyes, the gruff, low tone of his voice as he whispered to you. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw his other hand tuck himself back into his pants. When your eyebrows furrowed in response, he let out a soft chuckle.

Bucky leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Then, he stood up tall. He rolled his shoulders back, but you couldn’t focus. Your eyes were on him, and the aching bulge above his zipper. 

“I have to go to lunch, sweetheart. When I get back, you’re going to get exactly what you wanted from me, okay?” 

Your boyfriend left you there. Left you partially under his desk, still on your knees. What was supposed to be you teasing him, quickly shifted into you being extremely hot and bothered. You didn’t know how long lunch would take, either. 

You busied yourself with literally anything else. Not that it worked. Every footstep that came down the corridor, you were jumping in attention like some rabbit in heat.

Except, Bucky moved like a ghost. You wouldn’t hear his footsteps. 

When he finally returned, you didn’t even hear him until the sound of the office door locking caught your attention. You barely had the time to turn around before he was all over you. Lips were on yours as he hoisted you upwards, wrapping your legs around his waist to carry you to his choice of christening. 

An arm swiped his desk clear of any debris so no pens or other office supplies would be digging into your skin. He bunched your skirt up to your hips, and pulled your panties to the side. Bucky bent you over his desk with fingers shoved into your mouth to keep you quiet as he did what you wanted from the beginning. He curtained you, his chest pressed against your back as he whispered sweet nothings to contrast the punishing thrust of his hips— letting you know that he still very much adored you, but was also extremely annoyed by your little game earlier.

Afterwards, Bucky cleaned you up gently. Kissed you softly, held you tightly in his arms. Then presented you with food that he brought back for you– he ordered you lunch while he was out eating since he knew you wouldn’t have left the office while he was gone. 

You almost jumped his bones again right then and there for how considerate he was of you.

So yes, you almost lost your job, but you weren’t necessarily upset about it. Not when you got to spend an entire month with Bucky, helping him out at work, cuddling with him at night, and waking up at whatever time you wanted the next morning. On the rare days that you weren’t at the office with him, it was because you were somewhere else– still with him. 

Eventually, you were called back into work.

You convinced Bucky to hire an assistant to take care of his little things— stuff that you did for him to make his life easier so he could focus on more pressing things. It managed to ease his workload just a little bit, but not by a lot. Bucky still managed to bite more than he could chew, and you knew he was stressed from how slow the process was for passing bills and getting change to happen. 

Despite it all, the two of you were content. Happy. Overjoyed, really. He was perfect, and he swore to the heavens that you were, too.

A cacophony of voices, poppers, music, and sparkles were blasted into your face as you pushed open the door to the office. Streamers were shot directly into your face, colors cascading directly before your eyes, showering you with colors of the pastel rainbow. 

Your coworkers, all dressed to the nines, were cheering. A few of them held flutes of champagne. Two of them held balloons– together making the number twelve together. One of them held a cake that read congratulations.

There was a catering table set for the party that was clearly waiting for you. You saw the table set, ready for everyone to dig into. You knew your boss didn’t hold back when it came to celebrating any kind of achievements, especially not your own. You were the best at what you did here.

Your grin wasn’t smug, even though you had every single right to be. You shrugged your blazer off as you sauntered into the room, allowing the applause and cheers to wash over you. You dropped your purse and other materials off at your desk as your boss approached you with a grin, hands going to your shoulders.

“My star employee– our number one matchmaker!” she cooed at you, everyone shouting around you in response to our praise. “Tell me, with this wedding upcoming this weekend, how many will you be responsible for?”

You paused, only for dramatic effect. The ceiling looked suddenly oh so interesting as you smiled. Then, you guessed, “Twelve?”

“Twelve!” your boss roared, the girls around you jumping up and down with excitement and cheer. 

“Do a speech, a speech!” your deskmate urged, and you only let out a small, playful sigh as everyone died down around you.

You were handed your own glass of champagne, led to the front of the room, and turned to look at all the girls. Girls that you worked with for the past six, almost seven years. Your boss had been doing this job for well over a decade now. There were a few new faces that had just started a few months ago. 

With your glass lifted into the air, you smiled, “Love is all around. It’s easy to find the perfect match for someone.”

They squealed, toasting to you. The cake was brought to you, letting you blow out the candles as if it was your birthday or something– just a tradition your company had for good luck. Something to bring more successful matches and weddings to your clients.

Your two clients, Luke and Jessica, were tying the knot after twelve months of dating, and another four months engaged. One year and four months— which was a relatively short time, but who were you to judge? They both told you they knew the other party was the one after the first date. Who were you to stand in the way of them? 

Just because you were fucking bitter, and jealous that you couldn’t spend time with your own boyfriend despite the fact that Luke and Jessica got together three months after you two did didn’t mean a thing. Not a single thing. 

You masked your growing irritation well with your clients. After all, your performance margins had been going through the roof within the last six months. Your productivity has never been better, your clients have never been happier with your performance, and you have been churning out perfect match after match like you might as well have been Cupid himself. 

Yet, you couldn’t find a single time for your own boyfriend. 

When you had a free night, he didn’t. There was a dinner that he had to get to, one that required secrecy amongst government officials. You understood that. You didn’t hold that against him– especially not when he looked pained to tell you that you couldn’t join him when you offered to come with him the first time he said he had the work dinner. Because you didn’t mind joining him for work related activity. You just wanted to spend time with him, by his side.

But you were a fucking matchmaker. You didn’t have any business being in a government setting, and you knew that. He knew that. The entire government knew that. 

Sometimes it wasn’t even dinner. Sometimes, he wasn’t even in the city. Or the state. Or even the fucking country. Bucky always let you know in advance when he had to travel for work, but there was usually never any chance for the two of you to meet for even a brief look at each other across the road. Just to see each other in person before he had to hop on the plane and head hours away from you.

On the rare occasions Bucky had a free night, you most certainly did not. You had a proposal to plan for. Not a policy or business proposal like he worked on. A marriage proposal. One that had you sneaking around parks in bushes, setting up trails of rose petals, hiring and arguing with musicians– things that you didn’t need your boyfriend around to trail you like a lost puppy asking you if there was something that you needed help with. 

If it wasn’t a proposal, you had another work event. A client on the verge of a breakdown because their date cancelled on them, or some bullshit like that. You would be so close to finally being in your boyfriend’s arms, but you would have to cancel on your own lover to play therapist even though you were severely undereducated and underpaid for the position. 

Bucky was understanding. Too understanding. So understanding that it made you want to bash your head into the wall. 

The two of you had working hours that were strenuous, strange, and demanding. 

Bucky hated his phone, but he still texted you often. Texted you good morning and good night every single day. He reminded you to eat at least twice a day knowing you were only running on the fuel of your own brain to make it through your work hours.

Absence definitely did not make the heart grow fonder. If anything, your heart was growing irritated. Angry. These happy couples around you were pissing you off. 

Each and every single one of your clients that reported to you that they were falling in love with the person that you set them up with, was like another person setting you up for failure. You were a ticking time bomb just ready to explode, and the only one who would ever be able to defuse you is currently locked away in his office with his pretty fucking secretary that you know he doesn’t care about, but spends more time with than you do. 

You’re not jealous of her perse. 

You’ve seen them work together. It’s strictly professional. You don’t know if she has a boyfriend, and you don’t really care if she does or doesn’t– you trust Bucky, bottom line. He hasn’t given you a single reason to not trust him. You know he has eyes for you and you only. What you’re envious of is the time that she gets to have with him. She sees him every single day. She handles his schedule, hands him coffee, speaks to him face to face, sits with him during meetings, and discusses his fucking policies with him. 

You’re jealous of the time that you don’t get to have with your own boyfriend. You haven’t seen him in over a week and a half by this point. Last time you saw him, it was for a brief lunch that lasted forty-two minutes before you both had to run into meetings. Before that, two weeks. 

You scratch angrily into your notebook, then rip the page out. You crumple it up, throwing the wasted piece of paper into the bin with a frustrated groan before scrubbing a hand down your face. 

The time on the clock reads 1:44am.

Bucky should be getting home by this time, you think. Your phone hasn’t rang otherwise. There’s no good night text yet. 

This was easier before. Easier before you got so attached to him. Easier before your world got shifted on its axis, and started to rotate around him, just a little bit. Easier when you didn’t love the man so fucking much. 

You couldn’t dwell on this though. Not when you had to go to sleep. You had somewhere to be tomorrow, and you couldn’t look like death itself. You sent off your own text to him, then let your sorrows and loneliness cuddle you to bed. 

As much as you wanted to wait for him to text you back, you couldn’t. You had a battlefield to get to. A networking event. A bride to maybe convince that she wanted to marry her groom. 

By the end of the wedding, your purse was full of business cards, and your lips were full of promises to call women on Monday to get them on your books as clients. Your face muscles hurt, your feet ached, and your heart was breaking.

Your phone was full of notifications, and not a single one of them was from your loving boyfriend. Did he get JFK’d somewhere? He couldn’t have. It would have been all over the news already if he did. Sam would have called you, too. Besides that, the serum in his veins would have him feeling the murderous intent from a thousand miles away.

You were pretty certain that he wasn’t joking when he said that he assassinated JFK, too. Except, you were drunk when he confessed that to you during a drinking game that you two were doing when you first started dating. You don’t know if you dreamt it. Bucky refuses to comment, like a true politician.

You make it through the rest of the wedding, get invited to the afterparty, decline, and step out into the street to wait for your Uber to arrive. A car pulls up to the curb that you know is not a silver hatchback like the app indicates, so you ignore it–

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone on a Friday night?”

Your head snaps up at the voice. Bucky’s stepping out of the driver’s side, holding a colorful arrangement of fresh summer flowers for you, wrapped in kraft paper, tied off with a bow. He’s dressed in a formal suit– bowtie and everything. You vaguely remember him telling you that there was a gala event that was happening tonight the last time that you two had a chance to speak on the phone. He must have had a chance to slip away from there. 

“Need a ride?” he asked, feet stopping just right before you.

You let out a laugh, looking up at him. You take a moment to admire him. Bucky’s smiling at you. There’s so much love in his eyes for you. There always is. In fact, it seemed as if there was more love there than there was than the last time he saw you. You were certain that there would be double the amount the next time you would meet.

“I have one,” you sighed, deciding to play coy with him. “Coming in about five more minutes.”

Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Five minutes? That’s too long. Shouldn’t make you wait out here for even a second.”

You couldn’t fight back the grin that makes its way onto your face. You close the remaining distance between the two of you, your hand resting on his chest as you lean upwards towards him to meet his lips. Bucky’s hand wraps around your back, holding you to him to stabilize you, a small sigh escaping through his nose. 

“Hi, handsome,” you hummed, parting from him. 

Your smile only widened a little more when Bucky chased after your lips instinctively, wanting more. Wanting another kiss. You gave him just a couple more pecks before you settled the heels of your shoes back onto the cement of the sidewalk. A laugh rumbled through you at the disappointed look on his face.

“How’d you know where my wedding was, Congressman?” you asked, looking back at your phone to cancel the ride. 

“Oh you know. A birdie told me,” Bucky said, shrugging as he moved to open the passenger door for you.

“You had Redwing spy on me?’ you raised an eyebrow at him, stepping into the car..

“More like I had Sam send a trail on you tonight. Don’t know if he used Redwing,” he corrected, holding the flowers out for you to take. 

You rolled your eyes at him as you took the bouquet. He was messing with you, and you knew it. You shared your location with him on your phone a long time ago, and he only just figured out how to use the function of it a few months back. He was even shocked to find out that there was such a feature so easily accessible on regular technology. Bucky even asked you if you had his location. You didn’t, and you told him that you didn’t want it. You figured he would be weirded out by that kind of stuff as a former spy, and you were right. He was more at ease after your reassurance. 

However, he did enjoy the fact that he didn’t have to go through several satellite feeds and camera playbacks to find where you were.

In the car, the music is soft. Low. Something from the forties that you don’t really listen to unless you’re with Bucky. He’s tapping his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, and you find yourself relaxing into the comfortable leather of the seat. 

Neither of you are speaking, nor do you find the need to. 

Bucky knows you. You’re exhausted after an event like this. He used to ask you how the job went, like a mission debrief. To you, it is a mission. This was your battlefield, and you just fought against enemies and kept your cool against a thousand different obstacles that could’ve made the mission go sideways.

He learned over time that you just wanted silence, the same way that he did. Bucky used to think that you wanted to talk after these events, which wasn’t totally wrong. You talked if the event went horribly wrong and you needed to vent your frustration out to someone that wouldn’t get you fired. You talked his ear off because you couldn’t say what you wanted to in front of your own clients.

Bucky misunderstood and thought you wanted to talk after every single event. Eventually, he realized that most of the time, you enjoyed the peace and quiet of a job well done. That you wanted to sit without having to force a smile anymore, to close your eyes, and feel the weight of his hand on your thigh comfortingly as he drove. 

The sound of a text message coming through cut off the music momentarily. Your eyes cracked open, and on the center screen of Bucky’s dashboard, you saw there was a message from Bucky’s one and only friend.

Don’t Respond [12:08am]: Did she find out what you’re doing yet?

“What’s Sam talking about?” you asked, shifting to reach for Bucky’s phone that was in the cupholder. 

Bucky was faster. His hand left your thigh, grabbing the device before you could. He looked at the small screen momentarily, taking his eyes off the road for just a second. Then, you watched as he long pressed the side of his phone, turning it off completely before putting it back in the cupholder.

“Nothing, sweetheart. I’ll text him back later,” Bucky said, giving you a smile before looking back at the road. His hand returned back to its rightful place on your thigh. 

You stared at the side of his face, blinking at him. There was no more music in the car, since his phone was turned off. You were left in silence, just the low thrum of the engine and your thoughts being your only source of entertainment as Bucky turned into your apartment’s parking garage.

Bucky will text him back later? Bucky will text him back later?

No the fuck he won’t. 

As much as Bucky loves new technology like a nerd loves Star Wars, he hates it all at the same time. He thinks it’s disgusting for any sane person to spend the amount of time they do glued to their phones willingly outside of educational and work purposes. He’s a man that had zero choice in life, and he prefers to see the world. If he has free time, there is no way in hell that he will waste it typing away on a tiny screen to text back anyone. 

Except you, of course. He’ll only text and call you.

His reaction was even more strange. Bucky didn’t swat your hand away or anything like that. He didn’t scramble to get to his phone before you did– but he did react. He didn’t answer you. He deflected. He’s always answered your questions to the fullest.

Besides that, this wasn’t anything new between the two of you. You always texted Sam back through Bucky’s phone. When Sam texted, you would read it out loud, Bucky would answer, and you would type what Bucky said, but in a nicer… less aggressive way. In fact, 99% of the conversations Bucky had with Sam through text was done by you. Sam still did not know of that fact, and you were not going to be the one to tell him. 

You’re still reeling in your own thoughts by the time you get to your apartment. 

You shove your downward spiral for just a moment to accept Bucky’s extremely tempting offer to shower together– which is never anything sexual. 

Bucky enjoys the intimacy of being able to hold you, bare, and help you get cleaned from your day. It’s one of his favorite things to do. You revel in the way he takes his time, hands scrubbing at your scalp slowly to lather up the shampoo. He’ll ensure that not a single part of your body goes untouched.

You do the same for him. You take great care in every part of his body. You remember the first time you touched his scars– paid close attention to them. It looked self-inflicted. Nothing like a surgery or done by doctors or scientists, like how he said the arm was attached to him. When you saw his face, you knew you were right.

Every once in a while, you can still see the dark shadow casting over his eyes when your hands run over his shoulders. You simply move to kiss against the scars to quietly remind him that you aren’t afraid of him, and you watch as the shadows fall mercy to the light.

You finish your own skincare routine faster than he does, as per usual. 

“I don’t understand why the hell I have to do this, doll,” he grumbled as you left the bathroom. “I’m over a century old.”

“And I’m trying to make sure that you don’t look like it,” you replied over your shoulder. 

Bucky huffed, but continued with the routine that you strictly put him on. He complained, but he never went against your words. You knew that he was still following it even when he wasn’t spending the night at your place, too. He’s always been a handsome man, but you would say that he’s been leveled up even more since you came around.

While he’s distracted, you move towards his bag. 

You don’t distrust him, but you’re not stupid either. Turning off his phone, saying things out of character– yeah. Something is different. What’s even weirder is that he doesn’t have any of his usual things with him. There’s only his laptop. He doesn’t have any of his regular written notebooks or calendars that he usually carries around with him. The man loves his written, visual items. He likes to flip through pages and see things with his own eyes, to be able to edit with a pen instead of a tap of his fingers.

You hear the last cap of the bottle close, and shut his bag. You’re only left with more questions as you move his bag towards the hanger where your own purses hang.

“Ah– sorry,” Bucky apologized, seeing you move his stuff. 

“It’s alright,” you hummed, thankful you were able to play off your snooping.

The two of you move towards your bed, sliding under the sheets. You settled into his arms naturally, assuming the position that the two of you had found most comfortable in the almost two years of dating. Your head rested on his bicep like it was a pillow, his metal arm coming around you to wrap around your waist to keep you cool against his furnace of a body. 

“You ever respond to Sam?” you whispered into his chest, closing your eyes to snuggle closer into him.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, moving to grab his phone from the nightstand behind him. You immediately shifted, just slightly– to try and see the screen.

But so did he.

With one hand, he angled his phone so that it was distorted. The brightness was down low enough that you weren’t able to properly see the messages between both men. However, you saw him silence the chat. You saw the swipe of his thumb, and the icon that signified a silenced message.

Then, Bucky put his phone face down on the nightstand before returning to you.

“Good night, doll,” he murmured to you, hand moving to tilt your head up to him. He kissed you once, twice, a third time before settling back against the pillow. “I love you.”

“Night,” you whispered back, though your mind was everything but asleep. Suspicion was creeping up on you. You could feel it– the sign of something coming. You pushed your gut feeling down. “I love you, too.”

Bucky ❤︎ [2:48pm]: What days do you think are your most free days right now?

You paused, staring at the text on your screen. This is different. This isn’t a text that you normally received from Bucky. Especially not in the middle of the work day, either. Momentarily, you want to entertain the idea that someone stole his phone, but you were certain that someone would be injured or dying if they even got close to ever trying to rob Bucky.

Me [2:50pm]: Are you asking me on a date, Congressman?

Bucky ❤︎ [2:53pm]: I’m trying to plan one instead of our random spontaneous ones, yes. Can you let me know what days work best for you so I can look at my calendar?

Last time he ‘planned’ a date, the two of you went to Romania for your first year anniversary for a week. You didn’t even realize that’s what he meant by planning a date until you were at the fucking airport with no luggage. Except he packed for you, had your passport, and everything else you could possibly need. You were just completely oblivious to the entire thing. 

Me [2:54pm]: Is this a trip kinda date?

Bucky ❤︎ [2:55pm]: No, but I do need two days of your time.

Me [2:56pm]: You’re asking for a lot, handsome.

Bucky ❤︎ [3:01pm]: I promise I’ll be worth it.

You smile at your phone at his words. Of course he’ll be worth it. You take a moment to go through your calendar, flipping back and forth between all your different events. You cross check between client meetings, event plannings, meetings with your coworkers and boss, and then text him back with your response. 

Me [3:12pm]: Weekends are really bad right now. Mondays, too. Wednesdays are also surprisingly bad… Tuesdays and Thursdays are the best. Fridays are a hit and miss.

Bucky ❤︎ [3:25pm]: Tuesdays are bad for me. Rep. dinners on Tuesday nights and Wednesday morning debriefs. Can you block out Thursday and Friday for me two months from now? The 17th and 18th. I’ll give you more details about our date when it comes closer.

Two months? That’s more than enough time to block out. You’ll even take the weekend off for good measure, just in case. Still, two months is a long time to prepare for just a date. You can’t help but tease him a little bit.

Me [3:27pm]: You don’t plan on seeing me for two months? :( 

Bucky ❤︎ [3:30pm]: You’re funny. We’ll still have our random and spontaneous dates. Like tonight. I’m picking you up for dinner. Don’t call a ride after work.

Excitement flutters in your chest. You saw him four days ago, but you’re still happy. 

Time is thankfully on your side today, and he’s waiting for you outside your company’s building. You’re starved for food, for his affection, attention, and everything in between. 

Except all of that dies once his phone rings in the middle of dinner. Bucky silences it, and you see the screen. It has a name that you don’t recognize, then his phone goes faced down onto the table. A few moments later, it buzzes, indicating there was a voicemail left. Bucky swipes the device, pocketing it safely away. 

You’re really trying to not let this bother you. But change doesn’t just happen overnight, and this is Bucky’s personal phone. This isn’t even his work phone. He leaves his work phone in his bag, permanently silenced when he’s not working. This is his phone that he carries with him that he purposely ignores, that is only supposed to have two contacts in it– yours and Sams.

Bucky drove back to your apartment, even though his apartment is closer to the restaurant that he chose for the two of you to eat at tonight. 

You’re lying awake in his arms that night, listening to the sounds of Bucky’s soft snores as he sleeps beside you. It took him a long time to be able to sleep first between the two of you. You used to see how long you could stay up, to see if you could fall asleep after him. The first time he fell asleep on your lap, you almost cried.

Now, you’re staring at his sleeping face wondering if he thinks you’re a fucking idiot. 

The signs are right there. All the blaring signs are screaming in your face, loud and angry. The hidden phone screen, calls, and texts. Hiding his calendar, and all his written notes from you. The sudden trip planning, even though there was nothing special about two months from now. Two months was your twenty third month together. Not even the second year anniversary. 

Yeah, Bucky thought you were stupid.

The biggest sign? You’re currently sleeping in your own bed, and not in his. He’s hiding something in his apartment that he doesn’t want you to find—

An engagement ring. 

You go through Bucky’s drawers like those are your own clothes to wear because they are, and he loves to see you in his shirts. You once spent an entire weekend properly organizing his apartment in a way that made sense because his junk drawer consisted of bullets and lego pieces from when Sam’s nephews came over.

You once found guns and daggers in his apartment just by dropping pens and searching for them. There’s absolutely no way that Bucky can hide a velvet box anywhere in his apartment from you that you won’t accidentally stumble across. Hell– you found a loaded nine millimeter in your own apartment, and asked what the hell it was doing there. 

“Safety,” is all he answered with.

This was your job. This is what you did for a living. You helped other boyfriends hide proposals from girlfriends like this. This is exactly what you did– this is how you told them to do it, though you were a little more slick with it. You definitely made sure your clients weren’t hiding their phones from their potential fiance’s, that’s for sure. 

You made sure that your clients did not know that they were being proposed to. It was your mission, honestly. You saw enough of those TikTok’s where women truly had that gut feeling where they knew it was happening. You refused. It needed to be a surprise. You scouted out every single person in your client’s lives to ensure that every single moment would come to be a surprise. From ensuring that their nails would be done to the ring itself- everything would be perfect. 

Your boyfriend of almost two years was planning on proposing to you in two months, and he thought you wouldn’t find out? Jesus Christ– what were you going to do with him?

Marry him, you supposed.

If you were anyone else, if you were any less stable in your emotions, you would’ve thought he was cheating on you. Hiding his phone definitely made your eyebrow twitch for half a second, if you were being honest. Thankfully, you were able to maintain a rational and sane mind.

Sane was an overstatement. You were now planning an entire wedding in your head without the engagement ring on your finger. You were anything but sane. Insanity was taking over every single cell in your brain as you stared at Bucky, imagining your future. The thought made you extremely giddy. 

A smile crept up on the corner of your lips as you moved into the warmth of his embrace. His arms tightened around you instinctively, and he let out a soft, contented sigh.

You can’t keep it to yourself as the date starts coming closer and closer. 

Mel, who has graduated as your client and now has become your friend, is sitting in your apartment, telling you about her most recent date with her boyfriend of six months. Not in a way that she would when you were her matchmaker, but as friends would. You find yourself liking this arrangement much, much more.

“Enough about me though,” she grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Tell me about you and Bucky. How are things going?”

“You really wanna talk about the guy that your boss hates?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her as you take a sip out of your own glass.

“I can separate work from girl talk,” Mel said, smiling at you. 

“Well,” you said, smiling at her, “If you’re free the rest of the evening, I was wondering if you wanted to get your nails done with me?”

“Nails?” Mel repeated, raising her eyebrows at you as she brought the glass to her lips.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I think Bucky’s gonna propose to me on Thursday.”

Her eyes widened as she choked on her wine, the alcohol spluttering back into the glass. You couldn’t hold back a laugh before you jumped to your feet. You turned, rushing to grab paper towels from your kitchen to wipe off her face before it dripped, and stained her clothes. 

“Shit– shit! I’m so sorry,” she coughed, patting her face. 

“It’s okay,” you said between laughter, desperately trying to compose yourself. “Do you– do you want more wine?”

“Do I want– No! What? We need to go to the salon now! One of us needs to drive! Why the hell don’t you have a car again?!”

“Uh… I just… order a ride everywhere, or Bucky drives me,” you answered her, sheepish. “I’ll just order us a ride, we’ve both had a glass already. We don’t need to drive there, Mel.”

“Must be nice–”

A knock on your door makes you both pause. You move, going to check the peephole and find your boyfriend standing there with a box in his hands. You rip the door open, shocked.

“Bucky?” you asked, surprised. “Don’t you have a dinner to get to soon? It’s Tuesday.” 

“Yes, but I wanted to drop this off to you,” he said, giving you a smile. He leaned over the box, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just a present. Saw it, thought it would look nice on you.”

“What is it?” you asked as he transferred over the gift box to you.

“A dress,” he shrugged. “What are you up to today?”

“Mel’s here,” you said, opening the door further so he could see her. He looked past you, giving her a small wave that you’re certain that she returned back. “We’re about to go get our nails done. I was about to order a ride.”

“Oh? Don’t do that. I’ll just drop you two off. You’ll go the place you always do, right? It’s on the way to the dining hall,” he said.

“What? I don’t want you to be late,” you said, frowning at him. 

“It’s fine,” Bucky insisted, shaking his head. “They can start without me. Talbot is late more than a few times anyways.”

“It’s true,” Mel said from behind you. You turned around to look at her, finding that she was gathering her jacket and purse. “Talbot is always late.”

“See? Thank you, Mel.” There’s a bit of a gloating tone to his voice that makes you smack his arm. Bucky chuckled in response, a smile settling over his face. “Come on now, grab your stuff so we can get down to the car so I’m not too late for the meeting.”

You sighed, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to change his mind and get him to leave you. You put the box on the counter to inspect once you return later, and snatch your purse from where it’s resting on the table. Both you and Mel follow Bucky down to the car. He holds open the back door for both of you to climb into the backseat like he’s your chauffeur, and not your boyfriend.

Bucky drives in silence, you and Mel scrolling through pinterest hurriedly during the car ride for inspiration pictures for your nails while trying to be subtle about the fact that you know that you’re getting proposed to. Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice that you know, though.

Once he pulls up to the salon, Mel thanks him for the ride and slides out. You lean over the console to give him a kiss, and he grabs your hand, stopping you.

His card is slid into your palm, and his lips are pressed against your knuckles.

“I’ll pay for you and Mel,” he said, giving you one more smile.

You want to race down the aisle right at that moment. 

Instead, you get your nails done with Mel, swallow down butterflies that are forcing their way up your throat, and get to the restaurant that Bucky told you to meet him at while he runs late at his last meeting before your date. 

It’s a beautiful skyline restaurant in the middle of New York that your own company can’t even secure a date at. You’ve tried multiple times. In fact, your own clients have wanted to get proposals done at this restaurant. It just couldn’t be done. Reservations were booked out at least a year in advance, and somehow Bucky was able to secure the two of you a spot with two months to spare. 

There’s live music playing here by world renowned musicians. The chefs are even more well known. The lighting was low so that it wouldn’t take away from the view outside the windows. The time of night that Bucky chose was perfect– New York was lit up like stars on the ground from the table that you were sitting at. 

You were dressed in the gift Bucky bought for you. A backless, square neckline gown. The straps came up and wrapped around your neck like a halter top would, and tied around the back in a thin bow, the long straps kissing down your bare spine. It was soft and airy against your skin. 

Bucky arrived earlier than you expected, but you were sure he was still later than he wanted to be. Either way, he still had another bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands for you that you two had placed under the table. Of course, he didn’t take a seat before giving you a kiss for a greeting, and murmuring his apology for not being able to pick you up.

“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling at you. “I didn’t think you would wear it tonight.”

“I thought you bought it for me to wear tonight?” you asked as he placed the flowers under the table. You watched as he sat down across from you. 

“Mm… Well, I bought it for you to wear,” he said, reaching his hand across the table. You easily slipped your hand into his, watching him bring your hand to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. “When you wear it doesn’t matter to me. I just wanted to get you a present.”

“A present?” you echoed, unable to stop smiling. “Even though you already do so much for me?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t want to do more for you, sweetheart,” he hummed. 

The waiter came by not a moment later, letting you know that the first course would be coming out momentarily. You both thanked him, and returned back to each other. 

“I feel like I don’t see you as much these days,” Bucky said, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. 

“It’s been really busy for the two of us,” you agreed, releasing a soft sigh. 

“I even contemplated hiring you as a matchmaker again, just so I could block out meetings and have you in my office again,” he joked, making you laugh. 

“That would be fraudulent, Congressman,” you teased, shaking your head. “For you and me.”

“What are they gonna do? Threaten to fire you again?” 

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face is firmly planted, and isn’t moving anytime soon. 

“You know our dates don’t always have to be somewhere big or fancy, right?” you tell him, your voice softer.

“So you keep telling me,” he hummed, squeezing your hand a little bit. “I know, sweetheart. You said this to me. Several times. I just want to do this for you. For me, too.”

You soften a little bit at his words. You’re gently reminded of a previous confession he told you from when you first started dating. 

You told him that you were more than happy to just get takeout with him on busier days. To get fast food or something quick, if it meant that you two would have more time to spend together. You didn’t always have to sit down and eat somewhere nice. He said that he knew that, and he liked doing that, too. But as a kid in the forties, he always wanted to be the kind of man that was able to spoil his girl rotten– to bring his woman to the best places and sign the check without batting an eye.

This kind of thing was healing for him, too.

“We can get burgers tomorrow,” Bucky said, giving you a smile. 

“Deal,” you grinned at him. 

The first course of your meal was brought out to the two of you. You two never spoke about work over food. It was your rule. You talked about everything else. Sam. Mel. Your parents and siblings. The conversation Bucky overheard while he was in line getting coffee the other day. 

There was always a lot to talk about when you two never saw each other. Then again, you were certain that you would ever run out of words even if you spent every waking moment with him. If there ever came to be a time when that was the case, you were more than happy to spend the rest of eternity in a peaceful silence with him, as long as you were able to hold him. 

Topics never ran dry between the two of you. More than once, you two needed to remind yourselves to shut the fuck up in this fancy establishment because there were sophisticated people around you having very nice meals. 

“I’ll book a private room next time,” Bucky said under his breath.

“I don’t think they’ll let us come back, babe,” you whispered between soft, gasping laughs. “The host is glaring at us.”

That only made Bucky snort, which made you have to cover your own mouth in return before another fit of giggles wrecked through your body. It took everything in the both of you to compose yourselves before dessert was brought out. 

Once your table was cleared off, and you were left with just your wine glasses and the centerpiece on the table, you and Bucky smiled at each other. You were strangely reminded of your first date with him. So you told him that.

“This reminds you of our first date?” he said, his nose crinkling just slightly. “How so?”

“Mm… The ambiance,” you said, shrugging just a bit. You rested your chin in your palm. “You. Me.”

“It’s always you and me on our dates, sweethearts. Who else would it be?” he sarcastically joked, rolling his eyes at you.

“You know what I mean,” you scoffed at him, watching him smile a bit. “I just… feel a bit nostalgic. Just a… who knew, kinda thing.”

“I knew,” Bucky said, making you pause for a second.

“You knew?” you repeated his words, raising an eyebrow at him. Your heart picked up speed just a little bit. This felt like the start of a speech– the start to the speech.

Bucky cleared his throat, and your chest grew tighter at the sound. He shifted in his seat, and you watched as his hand dipped into his pocket. Oh, shit. It’s coming. Your eyes shot back to his face, and your mouth went dry.

“I thought you were the matchmaker, sweetheart. You didn’t know that we would end up together?” he clicked his tongue at you. “I knew I couldn’t trust a matchmaker that didn’t have a boyfriend of her own.”

“I have a boyfriend now, don’t I?” you asked, but thought– Not for long.

He smiled, eyes meeting yours. Then, a velvet box is produced. Placed right on the table in front of you. You can’t bring yourself to look down at it, not when Bucky is still looking at you.

“I want to spend the rest of my days with you. And it’s getting really fucking hard when I can’t see you all the time because we both live on opposite sides of the city, and have awful work schedules that keep us apart. Even so, I love you so much and I can’t imagine being with anyone else,” he confessed to you. Bucky takes in a deep breath that slightly shakes before he whispers out your name, nervous, “Will you move in with me?”

You freeze.

What the fuck?

“Move in with you?” you echoed, blinking.

Bucky opens the box. It’s a key. A shiny, silver key.

“I bought a penthouse in Manhattan,” Bucky said, sliding the box over to you to inspect the key even closer. “I want to see you more often. Not just the random dates when we both have time– I want to sleep next to you every night, and wake up to you in the mornings.”

“A penthouse… In Manhattan,” you said slowly. 

Your brain was short circuiting. In fact, it was fried. Gone.  You were still staring at the key, lips parted. He… wasn’t proposing to you tonight?

“I’m sorry. Am I– Are we moving too fast?” Bucky suddenly asked you, and you could hear the panic in his voice. 

Your head snapped up to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, eyes scanning all over your face. You slapped yourself mentally. You could only imagine how you looked just now– staring at him and the key with a blank look on your face, and giving him no answer.

“What? No! No, Bucky– we’re not moving too fast at all,” you reassured him, hands darting across the table to take his hands in yours. “Most couples our age move in together by the first year or so. Mel and her boyfriend are already planning on moving in together when Mel’s lease breaks in a couple months.”

Bucky lets out a breath of relief, and you watch as his shoulders drop. You feel guilt surge through you at the pure stress that is released from his body at that moment.

“God– I just… You know, the penthouse… It’s fully furnished. I’ve been– Sam has been helping me out, actually. He helped me meet with some realtors, get the place fully furnished and decorated,” Bucky said, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve been living there for the past two and a half months while waiting for all the furniture to come in, and it’s finally all finished as of yesterday and it never occurred to me that you could possibly say no until just now.”

“You’ve been– Is that why you take me back to my apartment after our dates? Instead of yours?” you asked, surprised.

“I already got rid of my other place, sweetheart,” he said, giving you a small, anxious smile. You can see him bouncing his leg up and down just slightly. “Got the penthouse so that we could have enough space for your stuff and mine.”

“You took me out to a fancy dinner, and prepared a speech for me to ask me to move in with you?” you whispered, your heart feeling fuller by the minute.

“I grew up in a time where couples didn’t move in together until after they were married, doll,” Bucky reminded you, his voice small and soft. 

You’re speechless, for just a moment. You take your eyes off of him, to look down at the key in the box, a smile finding its way on your face. You look back up at him, watching as he mirrors your own smile.

“I think it’s time to head home, Congressman.”

Bucky trails behind you quietly as you step into the penthouse. The elevator directly leads to your home– something that you had only ever seen in movies before. You barely took a step into the rest of the home before you were running numbers into your head.

“What’s my share of the bills?” you asked, heart racing as you look up at the high ceilings. “And don’t you dare tell me not to worry about it, Bucky. If we’re living together, then we’re splitting bills. I don’t care that you make more money than me–”

“We’ll talk about finances later, baby,” he cut you off, hands rubbing your shoulders to soothe you. “We’ll split it equally based on our incomes. Just go explore for right now.”

“I don’t know if I can afford this, Bucky,” you said, turning around to look at him. You were freaking out.

“Your salary was put into play when I got this place,” he said, cradling your face. “Sam and I met with the banks. We met with financial advisors to ensure that this would be feasible for both you and me. Please don’t ask how we got your information.”

“Is there a loan–”

“There’s no loan,” he assured you. “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” you answered instantly. 

Bucky gave you a smile, then pressed a kiss to your lips. You melted into his embrace, feeling your worries wash away with just one touch. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. When he pulled away, another kiss was pressed to your forehead. 

“I’ll give you all the documents later to look over. If you still hate it, then we’ll break the lease, and we’ll find somewhere else. I don’t care where we live. I just want to be somewhere that’s with you,” he promised. 

“Okay,” you breathed, nodding. 

Bucky’s hands leave your body, and he steps away from you. He’s quietly urging you to take a look around. 

You had two floors to explore. The elevator opened up the first floor, where there was an open concept condo. You were staring at a living room, kitchen, floor to ceiling windows, and there were built-in shelves on the wall that held Bucky’s books– and had empty spaces for your own books. Down here, there were two doors– one leading to a half bath and the other leading to a home office. 

You saw two desks, separated by a bookshelf. Bucky’s desk was already occupied with his things, while yours was empty and waiting to be used. On the shelf were pictures and other momentos collected by Bucky over the duration of your relationship so far. There was space for you to decorate with whatever you pleased. On the other end of the room was a daybed and some other furniture to cozy up the area. 

Upstairs, there was a platform for another lounge area. Also furnished to hang out in case the two of you ever had any guests come over. Here, your bedroom was behind a closed door. 

A king sized bed was in the middle of the room, along with two nightstands on either side of it. There was a full walk in closet, Bucky already having his stuff hanging on his side with yours waiting to be filled. The windows are touching the floor just like they are outside, and Bucky has the curtains pulled back so you can see the city lights from your bedroom window. 

“What if I get fired?” you whispered, Bucky’s arms wrapping around your waist from behind. “I won’t be able to pay my share of the bills.”

“I’ll pay then,” he said, pressing kisses to your bare shoulder and neck.

“What if you get fired? Or what if you quit? Join Sam and return back to action?” you asked, heart racing. 

Bucky chuckled against your neck, squeezing you against him. 

“Iron Man’s late wife donates a large portion every year to the heroes that do the work. If that’s me, then we’ll be fine,” he promised you. “It’s how Sam gets paid right now.”

“Oh,” you breathed, nodding a little dumbly. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more access to more skin. You felt him smile against you. 

“You like the place then?”

“I can’t believe you hid this from me.”

“I hide you from the entire American government so you can continue to walk the streets of New York without being asked about politics that you don’t care about. I hid Romania from you. I think I can hide an apartment,” he listed off, scoffing softly at the end.

All of your hair is gathered in one of his hands to get it out of his way as he continues to press dizzying, nipping kisses against your body.

“A penthouse,” you managed to correct.

“Same thing,” he muttered, and you felt him tug on the string of your dress. A moment later, the soft fabric was sliding down your body, and pooling at your feet, “C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta christen the place.”

You’re being turned around to face him, and your arms move to slide up his chest and wrap around his neck. Bucky’s lips met yours in an opened mouthed kiss halfway, tongue gliding over yours easily. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you sighed into his mouth, feeling his hands glide up and down the sides of your body. Something about him being fully dressed, and you with nearly nothing at all did something to the both of you.

Your fingers grabbed onto the collar of his dress shirt, tugging him into a deeper, needier kiss. Bucky groaned into your mouth in response, hands finding purchase on the flesh of your ass. His fingers dug into the supple skin, making you moan softly as he groped you.

Your boyfriend gently pushed you until your back was pressed against the window. Once you were situated where he wanted you, Bucky parted from your lips, only to attach himself to your neck once again. He kept shifting, moving down to your collarbones, your chest, your sternum. Lower. 

You watched helplessly, every inch of you thrumming with desire and need as Bucky slowly shifted to his knees in front of you. His hands moved down your body, dragging your underwear down your legs as he positioned himself to sit back on his feet, thighs spread just a bit for comfort. You’re certain your breathing was erratic as you stared at him.

Usually, you were the one on your knees for Bucky. This was different– this was new. You were more than certain that you would still be the one at his mercy.

“Don’t your feet hurt in these heels?” Bucky asked, hand closing around one of your ankles to lift your foot off the ground slightly. “They look uncomfortable. Very tall.”

“It’s not too bad,” you whispered, unable to trust your voice to speak any louder. “I like these shoes.”

“I bought them for you,” he said, tilting his head as he examined the design a little closer.

“That’s why I like them,” you murmured.

Bucky chuckled just a little bit, shaking his head. He moved slowly on purpose, undoing the strap around your ankle and slowly pulling it off of your foot like you were some sort of princess. He gently led your foot back down to the floor, keeping an eye on your posture to make sure you didn’t suddenly fall from the shift in height. When he was certain that you were stable, he switched over to the next foot, repeating the same process.

Except, he didn’t put your foot back onto the ground. Bucky lifted your leg higher, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, eyes closing as he did. When they opened, he met your gaze, never looking away as his kisses went higher and higher up your leg. He settled your knee to hook around his shoulder, moving to fully kneel before you as his hands went to grab your waist, keeping you pressed against the glass behind you. A firm, tight grip. 

You wouldn’t be able to run from whatever he was about to do to you. Not that you would ever want to.

If he wasn’t holding you up, you were certain you would’ve folded over and collapsed the second his tongue met your heat. The vibrations from the groan sent shockwaves through your entire body that made you tremble above him, hands darting to grab onto his shoulders for an extra form of stability as his tongue parted your folds and flattened against you.

“Shit, Bucky,” you moaned, your mind going blank. All you could feel was him. 

His tongue dipping just slightly in and out of your aching hole, only to drag up to your sensitive clit to swirl figure eights around the nub. Bucky’s hands on your torso, his thumbs  drawing circles into your skin to soothe you against the stimulation he was giving you. The heat of his body radiating against yours from where he was positioned beneath you. 

“Your pussy is squeezing around nothing, baby,” he murmured, pulling away from your core for just a moment, a whine ripping through your throat in response. Bucky clicked his tongue at you, and kissed the inside of your thigh to subdue you. “Have I been neglecting you? Not fucking you enough for you to be so needy?”

Definitely not. Maybe it was the fact that everything was crashing down on you. The fact Bucky went so far to secure the two of you an entire home without you knowing, furnishing the whole place, meeting with financial advisors– all of it made you incredibly desperate for him. 

It was like that one time when you watched him do the dishes for the first time at the beginning of your relationship. He was at your apartment, doing your dishes that you were too lazy to do before he came over. You don’t know what the hell happened to you at that moment, but you just watched him. The second the water turned off, you were unzipping his pants and giving him head. It confused him, but he also wasn’t complaining. 

“I’m always needy for you,” you barely managed to answer him.

Bucky’s lips parted, eyes scanning your figure above him for a few moments. Then, one of his hands left your waist, and two fingers were shoved into you without a single warning. 

A moan ripped through your throat, and you weren’t given a chance to even recover before his mouth was back on your clit, sucking and flicking at the sensitive nub. His fingers entered and exited you at a delicious speed, and he could feel you coming apart around him. Your body was beginning to tremble, walls beginning to shake– and he curled his fingers the way he knew you liked.

You came undone, Bucky’s hand moving to press against your stomach to keep you from collapsing forward. Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you whimpered his name, tugging on his hair weakly to pull away from your overstimulated body. 

Reluctantly, he released you. Bucky’s hands never left you as he stood, keeping you upright. Your legs were still shaking when you had both feet on the ground, but fuck if you were going to let Bucky stay dressed. 

You had every intention of returning the favor once Bucky was just as bare as you were. Bucky saw it in your eyes, too. The way your gaze dropped down his torso to his cock that was stiff and high up against his stomach, waiting for you. You barely moved your hair to the side before you were being spun back around, chest pressed to the glass– eyes to the view of the New York city skyline. 

“Next time, doll,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade that made you shiver. You let out a small moan as you felt him drag the length of his dick through your folds, coating himself in your slick to get him ready to enter. “Gotta be inside you right now or I might go insane.”

“Hurry up, then,” you whined to him, pressing your ass back further into him. A mistake, and you knew it. Not that it really was a mistake on your end though.

His hand came around from your stomach, gripping your throat and jaw, pulling you back into him. Your back was arched, hands resting on the glass for some sort of security in the position he had you in. Bucky forced your head to turn, to look at him. 

Bucky wanted to watch your face contort with pleasure as he finally slid in, watch as you fell apart as he speared you full with his cock. There was a look of satisfaction and fucking arrogance in his eyes with the way your mouth fell open in a noiseless moan. Bucky took advantage of it, shoving his tongue into your mouth to swallow up any of the noises that he knew would start coming once his hips started moving.

You couldn’t keep up– not with his kiss, not with the pacing– not with anything that was happening right now. His hips were snapping into yours at such a brutal pace, his metal hand gripping your hip to keep you in place, and you barely managed to pull away from his lips to breathe. 

“So good– so good,” he groaned as you turned back to the glass, chin falling to your chest for a moment as you moaned in response. 

Bucky didn’t let your head hang for too much longer. He pulled your head back up to look out the window, and you could feel his breath against your ear as he continued to pound his hips from behind you.

“Isn’t the view so nice, baby?” he whispered to you.

“Wh… what?” you moaned, mind spiraling for just a moment.

“It’s so nice,” he continued, grunting behind you, “I know your pussy loves it– loves it when I fuck you in front of all of New York to see.”

Excitement shoots through you, and you unexpectedly clamped around him. Bucky’s hips stuttered as he cursed softly. You were close– again– and Bucky wasn’t making this any better for you. Then again, you almost just brought Bucky over the edge with you.

“Shit. I knew you were a fucking freak when you tried giving me head in front of my coworkers,” Bucky muttered, a small laugh falling from his lips.

“Bucky,” you whimpered. “I’m so close–”

“It’s too bad. New York can’t have you,” he cut you off, pulling out of you. 

The sense of loss is immediate, but not for long. Once more, he’s spinning you around. This time, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing at all. Your legs are wrapping around his waist immediately, and he’s sinking you back down on his length within seconds. 

Your lips are collided with Bucky as he’s fucking you against the window now, holding you up in his arms as you hang onto him for dear life. Your fingernails are digging into the muscles of his shoulders, scratching down his chest in a way that he once admitted that he loves, and you’re moaning into each other’s mouths.

The thrusts are growing sloppier as the kiss grows messier– there’s no need for words between the two of you anymore. You both know your tells at this point.

Bucky angles his hips just slightly to hit that one spot in you, forcing you over the edge as his own orgasm threatens to take him. Your body seizes, and you can’t kiss him back anymore. Bucky busies himself with your neck, leaving marks on your skin as he fucks you through your high, chasing his own that comes just moments later, coating your walls and dripping down onto the new floors of your new room together.

You’re still panting and trying to catch your breath, head dropped onto his shoulder when Bucky moves, carrying you to the bathroom to clean up. His kisses are softer as he walks over, his words more gentle. His body separates from yours as he rests you on the edge of the bathtub so he can start the water to fill the tub.

“How’s the view?” Bucky asked you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A soft laugh rips through you, and you can feel him smile against your skin.

“The view is perfect, handsome.”

You didn’t find a single number out of place in the documents he presented you either. You took an entire weekend going over the numbers while Bucky watched you quietly. He didn’t bother you while you did so. In fact, he just stayed nearby and took the days off work, too. Bucky answered any questions that you possibly could’ve had for him, already knowing what you would’ve thrown his way.

Which only made your heart grow fonder for him, if you were being honest. He knew you like the back of his hand.

Once you were satisfied with everything, he helped you move all your stuff from your previous apartment over to your new home. Bucky timed the move in perfectly– your lease was about to break the following month, so you had just the right amount of time to tie up all your loose ends. 

All you really had to move over to the new place was your wardrobe, books, and sentimentals. You found out very quickly that during your random dates where Bucky would come home with you, he started taking stock of all your little things around the house. Anything that was running low, he just went ahead and bought so it was already at your new home, ready for you to use.

The last couple weeks were spent with you listing all your unneeded furniture up on the marketplace for an extra few bucks. Things like your dining table, sofa, coffee table– everything that Bucky had already bought and decorated for your home together. 

“You know this couch?” Sam asked you as he flopped down on it. “And the coffee table? The rug? Those barstools? The fucking light fixtures?”

You and Bucky invited him and his girlfriend over for dinner for a small celebration– a little get together to commemorate the fact that you and Bucky were officially fully moved in together now. 

“What about it?” you asked, handing him a bottle of beer.

“I picked it. Me. Bucky just swiped his card. You’re so fucking lucky, matchmaker. Your boyfriend sucks. If I wasn’t there– shit. You would’ve had clashing colors and patterns in this luxury penthouse,” Sam scoffed, taking a long swig. “I had a fucking headache just standing there. The sales associate thought we were married the way I was arguing with him in the store.”

“You two basically are,” you said, grinning against the rim of your own bottle.

“Don’t say that,” Bucky muttered, a shudder running through his body. “I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life with that idiot.”

“God, I’m glad we agree,” Sam groaned, shaking his head. 

“We picked more neutral stuff,” Bucky told you, sitting beside you on the couch. An arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. “We thought it would be easier for you to add whatever additions or colors you’d want in the future.”

“Oh, so you did think about me when you purchased an entire penthouse and furnished the whole damn thing without telling me,” you teased. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t fight the smile on his face. “Yes, sweetheart. I thought of you.”

With the two of you living together now, it was easier for you both to see each other. You reveled in the fact you could fall asleep every night in his arms, even if you went to bed first. He didn’t want you waiting for him if he had an event that had him staying out late, but you would often wake up to him pulling you into his embrace.

In the mornings, Bucky would usually be the one to wake up and leave first. 

You no longer set an alarm on your phone. Bucky’s sweet kisses were your wake up call every morning. He wouldn’t leave until you kissed him back, no matter how long it took you to wake up. 

“Morning,” you would whisper to him.

“Morning,” he’d reply, kissing you one more time for good measure. “I made you breakfast. It’s on the table.”

“Wake me up earlier tomorrow so I can eat with you,” you whined to him, though you just rolled over on your side, closing your eyes again.

Bucky chuckled, leaning over your body to press a kiss to your temple. You sighed, letting the morning wash over you for just one more moment before you pushed up off the bed. You’d follow him downstairs, watch him grab his blazer off the seat of the dining table, and you’d tie his tie for him at the door.

“I’ll be home early tonight. I don’t have any events today,” you said, smoothing out the fabric on his chest.

“You’ve been coming home early every night,” he said, raising his eyebrow at you.

“So have you, Congressman. Almost like there’s something you’re running from. Something you’re avoiding at work?” you teased, smiling at him.

“No. Just trying to get home to you,” he hummed, smoothing out your bedhead with both hands before he held your face gently to kiss you one more time before he went off into the world.

This was your new daily morning routine. 

The trade off on coming home early meant that you still had to do work when you came home. Both of you. However, Bucky seemed to plan for that, which is why he had a room specifically made for a home office for the two of you. 

You two would spend your evenings there before dinner for a few hours, finishing up any work that you weren’t able to do at your respective offices. You two would be silently working on your own jobs.

You, researching your clients preferences and trying to match them up based on their profiles. You would also be looking up the best date spots, trying to keep up with the latest trends for dating, and making sure that you weren’t falling behind on anything else.

Bucky would be going through packets upon packets of different meetings that he would have attended. There were several different duties that he had acquired since you first started dating, and there were a lot of responsibilities that he had started shouldering. You were certain that he was also helping Sam on the side, though he couldn’t tell you full details as per usual. 

Usually, you would stop working when you heard Bucky stop working and open the door to the office. He normally ordered food for the two of you, and would go out to the lobby to pick it up, and bring it back for you two to eat.

It was your signal to put everything down, and relax with him for the rest of the night.

You heard him close his binder, heard the wheels of his chair roll backwards, but you didn’t hear the elevator open and close to signify his departure down. You shook it off– wondering if he just went off to the bathroom or something.

Then, you felt him behind you. 

Bucky’s chest was pressed against your back, enveloping you in his warmth. His hands were on your shoulders, and as always, the left side of your body was colder from the touch of his metal prosthetic. 

“Hi, handsome,” you said, a smile coming onto your face. “Is it time for dinner?”

“Almost. Delivery is on its way,” he answered you.

His hands slid down your shoulders, goosebumps rising on your bare skin as his hands moved all the way down to cover your own hands. He left his hands on top of yours, and you hummed, happy to feel him all over you for just a moment. Bucky’s head pressed against the side of yours, then he dropped his forehead into the crook of your neck.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to give him more space to rest. He took it, burrowing deeper into you.

“Yeah. Just a little nervous,” he murmured into your skin, taking a breath. 

You were about to ask him what he was talking about, to turn around and look at him properly. Then, you felt his hands slide up just a little bit, resting now on your wrists instead of covering your hands completely. Except, there was a weight he left behind that wasn’t there before. Your eyes shifted downwards, and your breath caught in your throat at the ring he slipped onto your finger– the cool metal that he masked with the metal of his own arm.

Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes widened at the sparkling star on your finger. Bucky plucked this thing out of the fucking sky– he had to. There was no way. 

“Marry me, sweetheart?” he asked softly. There was a slight tremor to his voice that you caught. A slight shaking in his right hand that you could feel. 

You couldn’t repeat what you did at the restaurant, make him freak out with worry over your quiet shock and silence.

Your sudden jolt into standing surprised him, but he didn’t seem to mind when you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, then his cheeks, his eyes– everywhere you could as tears were beginning to well up and spill over. You couldn’t help it. You felt Bucky’s anxiety release with each kiss, his hands resting on your waist to hold you against him.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, smiling at you.

“Why would I ever say no to you?” you demanded, making him laugh. “Fuck– I thought you were going to propose to me at the restaurant when you asked me to move in with you!”

“The restaurant?” Bucky asked, blinking. “What– really?”

“Yes!” you nodded, wiping your tears away roughly. Bucky caught your hands, putting them down to your sides so he could wipe your tears away in a more gentle way with his thumbs.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said, looking appalled. “Do you know how many times you have ranted to me about the fact you hate restaurant proposals? You hate planning them, and you hate watching them. Why would I ever propose to you in a restaurant?”

“If it was you, then I would have changed my mind about it right away!” you argued with him, stubborn. “If it was you, you could’ve proposed to me with a candy ring, and I still would have said yes! We can elope– I don’t need a fancy wedding or anything. I just– just you. I just want you, Bucky.”

You watched as his eyes softened for you as he looked all over your features. You were certain that you looked like a mess right now, but you were finding it harder to believe that with the way he was looking at you right now. He looked as if you were the one that created the universe, and solved all his problems. There was nothing but admiration, love, joy. These were eyes that only you had the privilege to see. 

A smile came onto his face, one that you adored. A smile that you were going to be able to have for the rest of your life.

“Well, I’m your fiancé now, but you’ve already had me from the beginning, doll,” he said, “I’ve had this ring for over a year now, actually.”

“A year?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I’ve been trying to find the right time to ask,” he admitted, a bit sheepish. “And just… right now. It felt right.”

“Me working in the same room as you felt right?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at your blatant sarcasm. Except, he’s still smiling. He never gives you a real attitude. He wouldn’t dare. He loves you too much to ever do that.

“The fact that we’re both able to do our own thing in silence, but still be together felt right. We don’t need to speak. We don’t need to be touching. Don’t get me wrong, I love all those things, but… When I looked over at you just now— I felt at peace. Peace that I never thought I was ever allowed to have. So yes, it felt right.”

You’re about to cry again. You’re about to start fucking ugly sobbing in your boyfriend– your fiancé’s arms. You have a thousand things to say, but you know none of them will make sense right now. So, you bury your face in his chest and hug him tight, his arms coming to hold you even closer to him. 

“I love you,” you settled with, your voice breaking slightly.

“I love you, too,” he chuckled in response.

You listened to his chest rumble with laughter under your ear, felt his head rest against the side of yours. He led your bodies in a gentle sway, rocking the two of you back and forth. He took in a breath, releasing it slowly in a contented way. 

Your mind is racing still, and you ask one single question– just one to get his opinion. 

“Where should we get married?” you whispered to him. 

Bucky’s quiet for a few moments. A few moments too long. You pull back from him to look at his face, finding a smile on his lips, and a small sparkle in his eyes.

“I have some friends that want to meet you. Do you think you’re up to traveling to Wakanda?”

masterlist

taglist: @duacruel @natsomens @decthaxhrcv @shortandb1tchy @iyskgd @ifuckwithyouanyday @miss-chuchu @bighappypiels @snnoopyy @messrkarmaismygf13 @thebuckybarnesvault @aekzla @simp4f1 @its-in-the-woods @lvrrinx @herejustforbuckybarnes @djotummy @star-yawnznn let me know if you would like to join my general bucky taglist for whenever i post a fic!

[eviemonroeer]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 18

Set in between Seasons 5 and 6 of ER. It's original material y'all!

Warnings: varying pregnancy symptoms, Carter's crappy parents (mainly his mom)

WC: 2.4 k

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93, @hagarsays, @antisocialfiore, and @snowflames-world

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

The next couple of weeks were a blur. I finally had my twelve-week appointment where I was cleared to return to nursing duties with the promise I would take it slow at first. That was something Carter took very seriously. He made sure I stayed off of big traumas and basically snagged me for every one of his patients, so he knew how I was doing at all times. It was a little suffocating, so we had to have a discussion about it. As twelve weeks turned into thirteen, he gave in to letting me help with cases Mark or Kerry were on, which was a welcome break. We had gone out a couple more times as we were able to manage, mainly dinner or a movie, whichever fit. But it was nice to be separate some of the time too. 

The baby was doing very well considering our start. As I reached fourteen weeks, I started to round out a little more. It wasn’t noticeable through my scrubs just yet, but in just the right shirt or dress, you could tell something was there. My morning sickness was still coming and going, but way less frequently than before. Mainly I was just tired. Growing a human on top of working ER shifts was no joke. Carol and I liked to commiserate on that daily. I had also called my aunt and finally told her I was expecting. She was excited for me and hoped everything would go well, and promised to find the time to visit once the baby was born. Just the reaction I expected her to have; nothing angry, but nothing over the top. However, I was not prepared for the next family members I would have to face. 

Carter had come over for dinner. I had actually cooked for a change and was excited to finally watch Speed with him for the first time. However, while I was plating the meal and serving, I could tell something was wrong. He was fidgety and quiet; two things Carter typically wasn’t unless he was hiding something. He was even pushing his food around with his fork when he typically dug right in at the end of a long day. 

“What’s wrong?” I bluntly asked, taking a bite.

Carter looked up, opening his mouth to lie most likely. But I raised an eyebrow and his lips shut. He closed his eyes, sighed, and then looked back at me. “My parents are coming to town, and they want to have dinner.” He paused. “With both of us.” 

“Oh.” I said, my eyebrows shooting up a little. “You told them about me?” 

“Not in specifics. Dad asked if I was seeing anyone, and I mentioned you.”

“Mentioned me. Well, uh, did you mention this?” I gestured down to my belly. 

“I did not.” He admitted. “I really wasn’t ready to have that conversation with them.”

“You know you’re going to have to at some point. This baby is going to come faster than we want.”

“I just want them to meet you first. Get a chance to know you before we drop the bomb on them.”

“Oh yeah? And when is that going to happen?”

“Friday night.”

I coughed, choking on the bite I had just taken. I took a drink and cleared my throat. “Excuse me?”

“My parents are going to be in town this weekend. I understand if you don’t want to come, but it is the first time I’m seeing them in person in literal years. I could really use someone to bounce off of.”

I sighed and looked at that sad puppy dog face. There was no way I was going to be able to say no to it. “Uh, okay. Yes, I will meet your parents this weekend.”

Carter leaned forward and kissed me. “Thank you.” He pulled back. “There’s just a couple of things you’re going to need to know.” 

 

I pulled at my dress for the millionth time, turning and examining myself from every angle. It was a simple black midi dress with an asymmetrical hem and for the most part it was hiding my slight baby bump pretty well. However, I was still scared Carter’s parents were going to be able to tell I was pregnant the moment they saw me. 

“You look beautiful.”

I turned to look at Carter, who was leaning in the doorway. He can gone with a dark blue button up, dress pants, and some nice shoes. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly good all the time? It wasn’t fair that I had to hem and haw over every little detail. That I had to try on a million things and still not find the right one.

“I don’t feel beautiful.” I groaned and turned back to my mirror. “I feel huge. Your parents are going to know the minute they see me.”

Carter shook his head and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around me so he was holding my bump. “You look beautiful. It’s going to be okay.” He kissed my neck. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.”  He walked over to the bed, handing me my shawl and clutch. “You’re gonna be great.” He kissed my hands and led me out the door. 

   

Carter put a hand on my lower back, walking beside me as we followed the waiter to the table. The restaurant was nice, had a valet and everything. Everyone was dressed really well, and I suddenly felt too casual. As we got into the heart of the restaurant, we were led straight to a table where two people who were undoubtedly Carter’s parents sat. They both stood as we walked up.

The man was literally an older version of Carter with grey hair. They were both the same height from what I could tell with a relatively same build. It was nice to see the future didn’t look too bad and now I knew where he got the nose from. The woman though I could tell was like stone and didn’t seem like she would take to kindly to funny business. Her dark hair was pulled back in a low bun, her lips fixed in a harsh line. 

I gulped. What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

 “John.” The man said, coming over to shake Carter’s hand. 

“Dad.” Carter responded, extending the gesture. “Hi mom.” He walked over to the woman and kissed her cheek. “Mom, Dad, this is Genevieve. Evie, this is Jack and Eleanor Carter, my parents.” 

“Nice to meet you.” I said, trying to put on a sincere smile despite my nerves. I held out my hand to his dad, who kissed it and his mom who shook it. When we all finally sat, Carter pulled out my chair. “Thank you.” I whispered and Carter smiled at me before taking his own seat. A waiter came around and started pouring wine. 

“We went ahead and ordered drinks.” Eleanor said, taking a sip. “It’s a vintage red. Very good.” 

“Thanks mom.” Carter said, his eyes darting to me. I smiled again but reached for the water glass in front of me. 

“So, John, how are things going for you at work?” Jack asked, reading over the menu.

Thus began the small talk portion of the evening. Carter mainly led the way, talking about work and giving his parents updates on his life. I would describe everything as pleasant as we ordered our meal and fell into casual conversation. However, I could feel Mrs. Carter’s eyes on me as she took note of everything I did. And eventually, I was put on trial at the table. 

“Where are you from Genevieve?” Eleanor asked, completely ignoring the current conversation to start this new one.

“Uh, Ohio. I moved here after I finished school.”

“Oh, what’s your degree in?” Jack asked, a little more engaged and curious then Eleanor. 

“I have a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I’m an RN and I also have EMS certification.”

“An RN? So, you must work with John?” The question was back to Eleanor.

“Yes ma’am. We both started at County at the same time.”

“For his residency?”

“No, when he was a third-year medical student.” 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m 25. I turn 26 in September.”

“Oh, you’re younger.” She said with a note of disdain as she took a sip of wine, something I was extremely jealous of. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d be on my second or third glass by now. Carter grabbed my hand underneath the table and gave it a squeeze as the waiter returned with our meal. I stomach sank a little as I grabbed my knife and fork. 

“So, Genevieve, does medicine run in the family for you?” Jack asked as he began cutting his steak. A bit of blood pooled out as he did so, and I felt my stomach flip. “John is the only one of us who went into the field, much to our disapproval.”

“Uh, no. My mom, Diane, was a seamstress and had her own shop. She did everything from baptism dresses to wedding dresses.”

“What does she do now?”

I bit my lip and forced a smile. “Uh, she actually passed away. She’s been gone almost ten years.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“What about your father?” Eleanor asked, without the slightest hint of sympathy.

“Mom.” Carter pleaded. “Maybe let’s cool it on the interrogation.

“I’m just trying to get to know Genevieve. So, dear, what does your father do?”

I held my tongue the best I could. “I actually don’t know. I haven’t seen him since I was two.” 

“So, dad how were the Hamptons this year?” Carter quickly asked, trying desperately to change the subject. 

“There were some storms, so we decided to go to Martha’s Vineyard instead.” Thankfully Jack was also trying to relieve the tension as best he could. I tried to focus back on my meal, but the minute I cut into it, my stomach churned again. ‘Please don’t do this now baby’, I directed towards my stomach. I was already having a hard enough time. 

“Genevieve, are you feeling alright?” Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow. I looked up to meet her cold stare. “You’ve barely touched your food and you haven’t had any wine. Or is it not to your taste?” 

“Mom.” Carter hissed, giving her a warning. 

“No, it’s great Mrs. Carter. I’m just not very hungry.” I looked down at my dish again and felt the wave of nausea roll over me again. Any other time I would have devoured the pesto covered meal, but right now the Carter spawn was not having it. All they wanted was Doc Magoo’s pancakes. Of course, tonight had to be the reoccurrence of my morning sickness. I grabbed my water glass again, swallowing slowly to keep my stomach at bay. 

“We can order something else if you’d prefer.” Jack offered, taking another bite of his medium rare steak, which again, wasn’t helping my stomach. 

“It’s alright. Thank you.” 

“John, is there something you need to tell us?” I turned back to Eleanor, who was studying me heavily, the same way she had all night. I swallowed again and smoothed out my dress, trying to suck in my stomach. She knew, she had too. She was just waiting for someone to say it out loud. 

Carter sighed and closed his eyes before speaking. “Uh, yes.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin before grabbing my hand and putting it together on top of the table. “Mom, Dad. Evie is pregnant. About four months along.” Jack coughed before swallowing hard. 

“Is it your baby?” 

“Mom! What the hell?” 

“Eleanor!”

“What? Women try this kind of thing all the time, especially with your cousins. Why would it be any different this time around?” 

“Evie’s not like that.” 

“Every woman is like that if they want money bad enough. John, this phase of yours might be fun now but you need think about the repercussions. 

“A phase? Repercussions? What the hell are you talking about? Evie is my girlfriend, and we are having a baby together.”

“She’s not like us John. Who’s to say she’ll even be around in a year or two? And then what about the money you’ll have to pay her.”   

“Excuse me ma’am, but I don’t need your money.” I said and all eyes snapped to me. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady and calm. I had sat their paralyzed in fear for to long. “As I mentioned, I have a job. One I love, might I add. I have my own place, which I pay every bill for. I like my life. I don’t care about or need any of your money. Just your son. Excuse me.”              

I threw my napkin down on the table and got up, bag and shawl in hand as I headed back towards the door. How the hell could she think that what she said was justified? She had no idea who I was. She barely spoke to me all evening, just coldly stared and judged. She never even gave me a chance. I went outside with the purpose of catching a cab to get as far away from this place as soon as possible.

“Evie, wait!” I didn’t turn, but I could hear and feel Carter run up beside me. “Hey, look at me.” I refused. “Please look at me.” He gently turned me to face him, and I tried to hide the tears pooling in my eyes. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up. “Do not listen to a thing my mother said in there. I have never, nor would ever think you got pregnant for my family’s money. She was out of line, and I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I knew she wasn’t going to like me.” I choked out. “From the minute I sat down I knew she looked at me like I wasn’t enough.”

“Evie....” Carter grabbed me and brought me to his chest, holding me close and tightly. I had known Carter too long to think he would ever agree with his mother. But it still sucked that one of the only grandparents my kids would ever have, thought I was no better than the dirt under her shoes. “What can I do to make this better?” 

I sniffled and looked up at him. “Can we go get pancakes, please?” 

Carter smiled and wiped the tears from my eyes. “We can have anything you want.” 

“Right answer.” Carter chuckled and wrapped me in his arms tightly. He kissed the top of my forehead as the valet pulled back up with his car. We hoped inside and headed for Doc Magoo’s where I stuffed myself with all the breakfast food I wanted, worlds away from that horrible dinner table. 

[redhoodlover1]

𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐮! 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

🃜 𝐀/𝐧: What you read here is not canon and is simply an idea I had. Please enjoy and let me know if you see any mistakes.

🃁 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The South tracks were a big part of the Bats life, it was something that shaped them. But was it a good idea to invite someone from the ruthless North tracks?

🃚 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,3k

🂺 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫s 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝: Stephanie Brown - Jason Todd- Richard Grayson - Tim Drake - Barbara Gordon - Duke Thomas (and few other just mentioned)

The South tracks belonged to the Bats. They didn't race for money or fame. They were there for the love of speed, cars and, of course, each other. The name 'Bats' came from the man who started this all, a man who showed them how to drive like they do now. He was known on the tracks by the name 'Batmam'. 

And even if their group wasn't unknown to people. They have never been able to get to drive on the infamous North tracks. People there drove for money and influence. They did not know the word 'safety'. And The Joker? He was the real deal out there.

But they didn't mind being in their little world. And the after-parties on the beach? They were the best part of it all.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach. Jason, just a moment ago, tried throwing Tim into the sea, and now they were all sitting by a campfire with red plastic cups filled with juice.

"So... Guys, I have an announcement." Stephanie started and everyone's attention was suddenly on her. 

"You made new modifications to your bike?" That was Tim's first guess, because it was usually Stephanie's announcement, but she quickly shook her head.

"We're going to have a special guest right from the North tracks!" And that's when everyone went silent. The last time someone from the North tracks was here, it ended up in them having to repair their vehicles for a good month. And still after that, for some reason, Stephanie always wanted to be noticed by a certain biker from the North. 

"Stephanie, you remember what Bruce said about people from the North, right?" Barbara asked suspicions about the new special guest.

"I know. But they don't race for Arkham... And they complimented my custom bike." It still wasn't enough to completely reassure Barbara.

The other members of the Bats exchanged glances, the unspoken tension thick as the evening air. No one had a chance to even utter a word when the air was suddenly filled with the sound of engine. The vibrations resonating through the sand beneath their boots. They all turned to see a lone figure approaching, a silhouette framed by the setting sun. As the bike drew closer, they could make out the sleek lines and the distinctive growl that could only belong to the machine. They pulled up to the group, their eyes hidden behind a pair of mirrored shades, until the person took off their helmet and left it on the seat.

You walked up to the group with a smile so genuine that none of them expected. They had heard the rumors, the stories of the North's ruthless tactics and the unsavory characters who frequented those tracks. But here you were, in the flesh, casually accepting their invitation like it was nothing more than a friendly neighborhood barbecue.

"Welcome to the South," Jason said, trying to sound casual, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You took a good look around. "Looks like a good time," you said, and took a seat on the sand. "It's actually a nice change of scenery."

"We didn't expect you to actually come..." Duke remarked, and that was something to be expected.

"I could've guessed so. The rumors are pretty bad... But it's not like you are a small topic in the North."

That made Richard raise a brow in curiosity. He liked the thrill, but the fact that they were noticed by the North was something to be cautious about. He had some experience from when he started taking driving more seriously and was still going by the name 'Discowing' back then. "So, there are rumors about us too? I would gladly hear them."

"Well, you can never escape them." You started before continuing. "Since Harley was seen with your group lately, people started making speculations."

"All the fuss is about Harley? What about Selina? She's once here and once there," Tim asked. Having someone from the North telling them everything could be useful for the future, since he already knew the model of your bike and a few of the modifications. Don't ask how.

"Selina's a different topic. Opinions on her are fifty, fifty. I think she's a great driver tho," You said without any further ado. "But besides that, almost everyone think they would win against you."

Jason rolled his eyes at your last words. Of course people would think so. He once had a similar tought, and after that he ended up in a collision with Joker. "And do you think that you could win against us?"

"Oh well..." you didn't even manage to answer it and Tim already knew that you were no better than any people from North. But was there a hint of doubt? "Maybe..."

"And what about we test that 'maybe' of yours?" Dick suggested, the corners of his mouth raised, his dimples showing ever so slightly. "Barbara, you can already set your drone up in the sky."

When Dick got up from the sand, almost everyone followed. They expected that you'll do the same. To prove your words.

Stephanie, the girl that invited you and showed clear admiration, now looked at you with anticipation. She was clearly waiting to see if you'll go with everyone to race. You gave her a nod and got up.

It wasn't long before they led you to the beginning of the road where they usually started their races. You were there few times maybe, so you already knew your way.

Everyone was ready with their vehicles set next to you. You could see Duke on his motorcycle on your right and on the left was Jason and Stephanie. Then there was Tim and Richard in their cars. Barbara was also there, sitting on the safe side of the road with a tablet in her hands and a drone in the sky. You all were waiting for her to give you a sign to finally press the gas.

Jason leaned in a little closer as you adjusted your helmet. "Let's see if you can beat my time."

And then you saw it, the light which made everyone go with the wind as the trees and buildings raced by. The track was a serpentine dance of turns and straightaways, a place where only the brave and the skilled could tame the beasts under their control. The roar of your engine was a symphony of power and speed, drowning out all other thoughts.

This was your world, a place where the only law was the speed limit you set for yourself. The asphalt was your canvas, and the tires were your brush, leaving a streak of rubber as the masterpiece. The race was on, and you were ready to leave your mark on every race track in Gotham.

But as you rounded the first corner, you caught sight of a figure in the distance. It was already someone of the group that managed to get to the front. Their vehicle a sleek shadow against the moonlit backdrop.

You pushed on the gas even more to try and pass the person on the front. You weren't racing for the dirty money you get on the North tracks. You were racing with them to prove that you're as good as everyone says. To not lose your name.

And with that, the race was on. The line between friendly competition and a battle of reputations had been drawn, and you had no choice but to cross it. But the they won't give up like that, cause the South tracks belonged to the Bats.

[star-mum]

hello lovelies, I'm finally free : D

Once again, I'll read it without checking the tags, I'm in the mood for surprises :3

"Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded" we're starting with SEX !!! pwp? maybe (well not without completely cause i know you, but little plot?)

"which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes" usually it's the other way around

"11. McCall" : O

oh okay not cheating... (said dejectedly)

"his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow" JAOAOWIAJA W AAAAHH I'VE MISSED WOLF SHENANIGANS (literally giggling and kicking my feet)

"and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog" derek is an idiot cause this FUCKING RULES !!!!!

"Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it" Lydia knows EXACTLY what she's doing, don't be fooled

"if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on" I think he knows, yes Scott is stupid but he can smell Isaac on us afterwards

(you have no idea how much I've missed these dumb dogs and their dumb abo dynamics)

(I'm also on my ovulation period so very horny) (sorry if tmi)

(if youre not sunny and you're reading this, I am not sorry actually, you chose this)

"She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’" this was calculated, don't fall for her lies !!!!

"weird spiritual sexual codependency" delicious

"All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him" terrible for Scott but he'll live... not the first time this has happened to him

"feeling of his teeth digging into your neck" hihi 🫣🤭🤭

"the first small indicator of his facade cracking" he's the pathetic pussy

"Was supposed to be treasured as yours" 🥺

"knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs" FAT READER !!!!!!

"he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces" scared is the best way to be horny, Eleanor Shellstrop always right

"you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face" sacrifices must be made...

"You have to ‘take it off’ too" please for the love of god, I am NOT fucking you in this dumbass get up, Isaac

"You act like a dumb slut all the time.” SKSKKSKS YEEEEAAAHHH (I love all your readers so much, they're so fun)

"You don’t have to be so mean" QOAJAIAKAN he is SO cute tho

"He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar" WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

"Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds" i love this so much

"cooling the salvia he had left there" this is always my favorite typo in ANY smut fic ever cause it's just proof the writer was going at the speed of light to bring the vision to life (i can fear the frantic typing)

"Get on your knees for me like a good dog" hell yeah

"more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy" every single guy in this show has this energy, they all eat pussy like they're starved

"There was no skill to it" but damn it if he's not giving it his all

"Behave.” “I wasn’t done.” i love them

"beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you" one of my FAVORITE things in this show

"Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog" LOVE IT HERE

"the metal started to crumble beneath his fist" ‼️‼️OJNANAOAKANA HIHI 🫣

"Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours" another one of my favorite things about this show :3

"Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small" he just has that pathetic sad vibe to him

"I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine" HE'D WEAR IT !!!!!!

I LOVED THIS !!! I LOVE IT HERE !!! this felt like coming home, I've missed this

seriously the ending of this semester was so fucking stressful (for a myriad of reasons) I REALLY NEEDED SOMETHING NICE LIKE THIS !!!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

If you wanna start a fight,

You better throw the first punch - make it a good one.

And if you wanna make it through the night,

You better say my name like:

The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty.

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

What you and Isaac had going on wasn't exactly public - and whatever it was didn't have a title. Sexual, friendship, two souls entwined and bound to each other in an utterly complicated way.

Whatever. It didn't have a label. The two of you didn't need one.

But Isaac definitely didn't expect to see you showing up to a lacrosse game wearing Scott's number with the name McCall boldly across your chest. All he knew from the moment he saw that stupid shirt on your chest was that the night was going to end with it shredded to pieces.

(He had no clue that was precisely your plan from the start, because you knew how to guide him exactly where you wanted him - every. Single. Time.)

Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!Fem!Reader. Best Friends with Benefits (Secret Relationship) to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 7,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: this is primarily a smut fic - there is some slight plot; this does take place in a high school setting, but just for the sake of clarity/for the sake of argument, the characters are eighteen or older; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina and breasts (but as with all my fics, the primary pronouns used are you/yours); mention of the reader wearing a skirt;there is some descriptions of the reader being curvy/plus sized (as with many of my fics - and I always just picture Isaac with a plus sized girl) (absolutely no bias there), and there is mentions of Isaac being taller than the reader, but that is based on the assumption that at 6.1, he would be taller than most people; there is also mentions of Isaac lifting the reader due to his supernatural strength, but her back is also supported by a wall so it’s not wholly unrealistic; mentions of background Scott x reader (mostly the reader using Scott to make Isaac jealous and Scott having feelings for the reader that she does not return), and this would have been when Scott and Allison were broken up because I would not do my girl wrong like that (you can even interpret this as Scott using the reader to help ‘get over’ Allison if you want); some non-detailed mentions of the abuse Isaac received from his father (which is pretty difficult not to mention in an Isaac fic); there is some dom/sub themes - Isaac is submissive and the reader is more dominant; Isaac is jealous and possessive - very slight angst because it discusses Isaac’s jealousy coming from a place of being hurt; this is not the first time that Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other; Isaac and the reader have been best friends since before his father’s death (and his werewolfism) and they recently started having sex, and they have a murky situationship; the reader clearly knows that Isaac is a werewolf; mention of Isaac ‘pinning the reader down’ and fucking her (in a memory) (and she loved it); Isaac calls the reader a ‘slut’ and a ‘whore’ - not in a kinky way, but over the fact that he is deeply offended that she was flirting with Scott and pretending to like him; in turn, the reader calls Isaac a slut in a kinky way; the reader also calls Isaac ‘puppy’ and ‘good boy’; hair pulling - Isaac receiving; something like subspace is described (regarding what Isaac is feeling) but the word ‘subspace’ is never used during the fic; the characters do not discuss having a safe word in place, but they trust each other due to their history and know how to nonverbally balance each other’s needs; Isaac using his claws to shred a shirt that the reader wears with Scott’s numbers on it, and in the process he accidentally scratches her chest slightly (but she likes she slight pain); very slight blood kink - Isaac licks up the blood from these small cuts; I feel like there should be a warning for the endless amounts of dog imagery because I cannot stop comparing Isaac to a kicked dog because it works to well; lacrosse pads being used for slut activities; oral sex - reader receiving; Isaac has an extreme scent kink (he loves the way the reader smells); praise kink - Isaac loves being praised by the reader; penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex; (surprisingly, there’s no breeding kink in this); I think that’s actually it for this - one stray joke about the reader getting Isaac a dog dollar.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. As soon as the request hit my inbox, I knew I was going to write it at some point. Part of me kind of feels bad that I didn't write the expected jealousy = dominance - you may notice when you read the fic, I started out writing Isaac as dominant, but I cannot help writing him as submissive, and it turned into this interesting painting of 'his dominance is a performed act, and submissiveness is his true self' and 'his jealousy is possessiveness, not dominance' and possessiveness is a very submissive trait. (I could go more into depth about this in another post, and I probably will.) People often associate possessiveness with Doms, but I see Isaac as the most possessive Sub ever because he's a wolf. Anyway - I am really happy with how this turned out, and even if it's not what the original requester intended, I think the point of a request is that the author gets to interpret it and write it in their own style. And this is definitely how I would write it most true to my style. Also this has references to Season 3 - like Lydia dating Aiden and Isaac fighting the Alpha pack, but this is set after a lacrosse game, and in S3, they were in the off season of lacrosse. and I can guarantee you my autistic ass is the only one who cares about that and you didn't even notice until I pointed it out. So please - carry on.

...

The lacrosse field of Beacon Hills High School was absolutely buzzing. 

The night air was filled with cheers as the team and many fans were celebrating another win, while the opposing team sulked in disappointment as they packed onto their bus with their heads hung low, their coach screaming at them for the loss. Chatter and celebration filled the air - but you didn’t get a single moment to be a part of it as Isaac Lahey pulled you far away to somewhere secluded. Somewhere only he could get to have you.  

He currently had you pinned up against one of the lockers in the girls’ locker room. It was a place that nobody would think to look for the two of you - a place that wouldn’t be entered for the rest of the night, unlike the boys’, which would soon be filled with sweaty assholes shedding their kits and getting a shower before they went off to some party to celebrate their victory. Isaac had locked the door to make sure that the two of you would be left alone, and left the lights off so that nobody would be suspicious of any light coming from the crack beneath the door. 

But right now, none of those details mattered. 

All that mattered was that stupid number in the middle of your chest. That stupid block lettering sitting across your perfect round breasts. 

11. McCall. 

You could claim that you had worn it as a joke. But as Isaac locked his jaw stiffly, staring you down - you didn’t think that you would be getting away with that claim. 

“Take it off.” Isaac growled at you, his eyes flashing that glowing golden yellow, a visual that made your breath tight in your chest and made your cunt quiver. 

You remembered the first time you had seen that glow coming from his eyes - the first night he had found you after he received The Bite, when he was still high on adrenaline and warned by Derek not to do anything ‘stupid’. And the stupid thing he had done was climb up the side of your house, claw in through your bedroom window with the clumsy hands he barely knew how to use, and pin you down to your bed and fuck you senseless, feeling like an overeager dog with intensely swollen balls, feeling like he was too strong and going through puberty all over again. 

It had been one of the best nights of your life. 

“What?” You said, your voice even, calm, not even close to mocking dubious. “Take what off?” 

You were faking confusion - faking it poorly, easily signaling to him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. 

It was a dare. You were egging him on purposefully. The two of you always had the best sex when you did. That’s what the whole night was about, after all. 

Lydia had gotten the shirts made - she had gotten one for herself with Aiden’s name and lacrosse number on it, and she had told you that it was cheaper to ‘order multiple at a time’, and then she had pulled out one in your size. Your gut had shriveled up when you saw that it was one with Scott’s name and lacrosse number on it. 

A plain white tee shirt in a feminine, tight fit with burgundy vinyl lettering to match the school’s colours. Lydia had ordered them in white because she said it would be easier to make into an outfit, and she didn’t want to ‘wear that god awful colour’ with her nice coats. 

You had gone on one single date with Scott. He asked you out, you said yes. It had been a pleasant, average evening that ended with a bit of kissing. It was nice - Scott was a great guy. But it definitely hadn’t been anything special. It had only driven home in your mind that you definitely didn’t have those feelings for Scott. And you felt guilty for every single time you had flirted with him in Isaac’s presence just to make Isaac jealous, if it meant that you had been misleading him or leading him on. 

A while ago, Lydia had been talking about guys, and she said something about ‘you and Scott’ and not even fully paying attention, you agreed with her. And then she cheered, and you realized that she had been talking about romantic couplings among your friend group. She thought that your flirting with Scott and the one single date meant that the two of you were dating - so she took this as a greenlight to order you the shirt. She was excited that the two of you would look ‘coordinated’ cheering for your ‘boyfriends’ in the stands. 

But more than anything, you felt awkward correcting her because you couldn’t exactly tell her about the thing that you and Isaac had going on. 

Mostly because you had no clue what to call it. 

The two of you had been best friends for years, and you had been his rock and his confidant before anybody else knew what was going on with his father. And then, shortly after he had made the grand transformation from abused introvert to powerful (hot) werewolf, the two of you had started… this. 

Some might call it ‘friends with benefits’, some might call it a weird spiritual sexual codependency that had truly begun with you patching up his wounds from the beatings his father had given him. Either way, the slight flirting of your normal friendship ramped up tenfold, and now, every single time the two of you were behind closed doors together, the intense sexual tension in the air built until you were both partially unclothed and moaning. 

And in the outside world, the two of you were constantly at war. You were constantly in the throes of a game that nobody else knew was going on. You both refused to name each other as a romantic partner, but you were constantly in some kind of effort to get the other’s attention or make the other person jealous. He flirted with Allison and Erica, and… that stupid game was the only reason you had gone on a date with Scott. It had been a relatively nice date, but you hadn’t felt a single sense of the spark with Scott that you did with Isaac. 

And it was the only reason that you were wearing the stupid shirt that Lydia had given to you. It was the only reason you had sat in the stands beside Lydia with your jacket unzipped and even taken off all night in the cold, showing off that shirt, loudly cheering for Scott, putting on a show. 

All of it was to make Isaac jealous - to get some kind of a rise out of him. 

And it had worked so damn well. Seeing his clenched jaw, his flared nostrils… seeing the way his sharp fangs extended out over his lips as if he couldn’t control them while he looked at you with hellish lust in his eyes… you were almost terrified by how well you had succeeded. Almost. 

“Take. It. Off.” He growled, grinding on each word, his chest now heaving with the effort. 

“Make me.” You mumbled in reply, entirely confident, hoping that further teasing would only wind him up more. Hoping that it would only beautifully play into your game. 

He stepped closer to you and when you instinctively took a step back, your body hit the cold metal of the lockers, and you swallowed harshly as your body pumped with more lust. It was oddly thrilling to be so trapped - only because it was Isaac. And because you knew there was only one way this could end. 

Because your body was preparing for the sensations you knew came next - the ghost of his touch already lingering on you, your mind replaying those past events like grooves in a record. It caused you to become wetter and wetter just thinking about the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, the feeling of his hands possessively gripping your hips, the feeling of his cock splitting you open. 

His breath ghosted over your forehead, his height towering over you somehow not intimidating at all as he pressed his hard body (disappointingly still clad in lacrosse pads, keeping you from feeling the true ridges of his muscles) up against you, truly ensuring that you could not escape. Not that you would want to escape from him. 

He took a thick sniff into the air, his nostrils flaring widely, and you knew he could smell it on you - the lust, the pure attraction you felt toward him, the adrenaline. Or maybe it was just the pure smell of your pussy pathetically leaking into your underwear that he was picking up on. Either way, he let out a whine, the first small indicator of his facade cracking, and you felt his hips jolt toward you, instinctively seeking friction. 

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” 

Isaac growled, still trying to sound tough, the words bordering on a pained howl. There was a unique agony in his voice as he stared down the length of your body and continued to fixate on those numbers on your chest, true haunting dancing in his pretty baby blues. 

Your gut twisted horribly as you realized it. This wasn’t just something he could brush off in the name of sex. You had really hurt him this time. Perhaps you had gone too far this time. Something that had started out as a well-meaning game of cat and mouse had turned into truly taunting a wolf - and unintentionally, you had wounded that wolf. 

That wolf that, even if it was never spoken, was supposed to be yours. Was supposed to be treasured as yours. 

You had gotten so caught up in playing the stupid game that you had made a terrible mistake. 

But you needed to see it through now. 

You reached up and grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. 

“Make me.” You repeated the words, and Isaac let out another huff. “Make me take it off, Isaac.” He replied to this with a growl from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrated through your hands on his delicate, angelic face. “Make me yours.” 

He reached up with one hand in the middle of your chest and gently pushed you back, making sure your body was stiff and firm against the metal of the lockers, propping you there like hanging art on a wall. And then he took a small step to distance himself, his eyes flickering up and down your body sharply, drinking you in even though he had seen you thousands of times before. 

It had been torture - pure torture all night. From the moment he had seen you unzip your jacket, revealing that fucking shirt with Scott’s name on it (and the fact that you had paired it with a tiny little skirt and a pair of sheer tights… knowing that those tights emphasized your thick thighs, his favourite part of your body… just to torture him…) - he had been tempted to ditch off the field completely and run up into the stands just to tear it off you. Just to prove a fucking point. 

But that hadn’t even been the worst part of it. No. One of the words parts had been the fact that he was forced to stay on the field all night listening. Over-hearing you chatting it up with Lydia and Allison about your ‘date’ with Scott, talking about kissing him, theorizing about what having sex with him might be like. You had known he was listening the whole time. You knew his hearing was enhanced enough, and you knew that he had a special knack for picking up on your voice in a crowd. You had been doing it on purpose. 

And every time he glanced over between goals and saw Scott’s name stretched across your perfect tits… it killed him a little more inside. 

While thinking about all this, while thinking about the fact that he had been waiting to do this all night - 

Isaac raised up his hand, very intentionally flaring his claws, bold enough for you to see what his next move would be so that you could anticipate it and wouldn’t be afraid. And his cock began to throb almost painfully between his legs when he saw you push your chest out, arching your back against the lockers as you licked your lips, silently begging for it. 

Clearly, you didn’t wear Scott’s name proudly. You were aching him to tear the shirt off you, downright lustful at the thought - biting your lip, batting your eyelashes at him, the scent of your lust even more potent in the air down. 

Such a beautiful fucking tease. 

With delicate precision, he slashed his claws across your chest, shredding the fabric to pieces and feeling a cathartic vindication as the name and number of another guy fell apart and began to fall off you. 

A twinge of guilt nearly ruined the moment as he saw the slightest bit of blood glinting across your perfect skin, gathering in your cleavage along your gorgeous stretch marks, but you didn’t seem to care, and you didn’t seem to be in the slightest bit of pain. In fact, you let out a purely lustful moan and arched your back even more, pushing your chest toward him more - making you look like a perfect porno in your shredded clothing with your red lace bra now revealed underneath. 

Though in a moment, you reached up, pulling the scraps of the fabric away and shucking off the useless remains of the shirt, throwing it to the ground like the garbage that it now was. In the back of your mind, you guessed that now you would have to put on your jacket  - which you had been carrying in your hand and tossed off to the side earlier, and zip it up completely to cover yourself in order to leave. But that didn’t matter now. You didn’t care if you would have to leave here in just your bra if you meant you got to have what would likely come next. 

Isaac indulged in the sound of your pretty panting, the way you licked your lips, and the perfect, accelerated thumping of your heartbeat in his ears. 

“Better.” He sighed in relief, much preferring the sight of your chest heaving, nearly bare in front of him than the visual of Scott’s fucking name plastered across you like he owned you. He never did, he never would - 

You let out another hot moan in response, and Isaac found himself licking his lips. 

While he stood there, frozen with his lust, too busy visually admiring you, you were driven forward by your maddening need. You grabbed the front of his jersey and yanked him forward into a heated kiss. It was a mouth that you knew well from experience by now, and it was only a second before the two of you were exchanging moans and a clash of tongues. 

He craned down, his hands possessively grappled for your thighs, those claws making quick work of your tights, putting runs and even huge holes in the sheer material, quickly exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. It was something you would have been angrier about if not for the very pretty boy currently sucking on your face. 

One of his hands moved to claw at the seam of your tights, but you quickly clamped your legs shut, trapping his wrist from moving any further, much to his whiny disappointment. You used your hold on the front of his jersey to push him away, and you were met with the most sweetly crestfallen expression - wide, glossy, sad eyes staring you down while he curled his lip, clearly wondering what he had done wrong. Wondering what he had done to be denied. 

“Not so fast.” You scolded him gently. “You have to ‘take it off’ too.” You told him, running your fingers down the front of his chest, more than offended by all the padding he was wearing in addition to the clothing. Far too much coverage. 

“I’m not the one who was acting like a whore.” Isaac huffed, clearly still wounded from the fact that you had worn Scott’s numbers. The word sounded strangely good on his lips, but still, you rolled your eyes. From him, it wasn’t dominance or power. It was slowly turning into bratty defiance in your little game. “I wasn’t out there shaking my ass in front of the crowd while wearing some other guy’s fucking number, acting like a dumb slut-” 

“Oh, please.” You let out a dark laugh, and Isaac swallowed thickly, knowing that you had truly arrived. After all the winding up - the main event had finally started. “You act like a dumb slut all the time.” 

Isaac let out a sharp breath at your words, loving how easily you tossed the words back at him. Something inside of him was absolutely purring at the harsh title that was now freshly branded into his skin. This was the moment that his brain began to melt between his ears, and any sense of the ‘tough guy’ act that he put on for the rest of the world was completely gone. 

From this point on, he was dissolving into the sweet puppy that only you were allowed to know. 

“Like now, for example.” You continued on, more venom lacing through your lips. You put on your most threatening voice, hating to get firm with him, but knowing it was necessary. “So you can strip down, and fucking behave yourself, or I can get dressed and go find Scott and see what fucking him would be like instead.” 

Isaac glared at you, and you saw that horrible quiver come across his lip again. Before you could worry that you had gone too far, he reached up and began pulling off his gear, and you heard a few muffled complaints as his pads hit the floor. 

“You don’t have to be so mean,” He told you, nothing more than a petulant whine at this point. 

He was ready to be compliant with you - ready to do whatever you said because he needed it just as much as you did. 

When he was shirtless, you didn’t wait for him to ditch his bottoms before you leaped into action once again. You reached out and tucked your fingers into the waistband of his shorts, hauling him toward you - and much like a loyal dog tight on a leash, he let himself be so easily pulled, even though he was much stronger than you and he could have overpowered you if he wanted to. 

But that was the glory of it. He was a statue of might, standing over six feet tall, shredded with muscles that were enhanced with supernatural strength, and yet - he wouldn’t hurt a fly without your permission. He wouldn’t take a step in any direction if it wasn’t to stand in your shadow. 

He didn’t worship anywhere if it wasn’t at your altar. 

He had sought out guidance anywhere and everywhere since his father had died - Derek, Scott, Deaton, even Erica. But he had only found sanity and solace at the palace of your lips. 

Which was why he moaned into your mouth as you kissed him again, quickly shoving your tongue past his teeth to remind him of why he was here. He belonged to you, and he shouldn’t do anything without your sacred permission. 

You got a firm grip on his hair and caused a sting across his scalp with how possessively you were holding onto him, causing pleasant tingles through his whole body as he was reminded of that lovely feeling of being held by you, being owned by you. You used the hold to force him tighter into your mouth, angling his head just the way you needed to kiss him firmer, deeper, controlling every single aspect of it - causing a sweet whimper out of him as he was guided like a puppet on a string. 

He had been the one to drag you here with a demanding, tight grip on your wrist - he had been the one to practically throw you up against the lockers in anger. He thought this whole thing had been his idea. 

But this had never been his game. 

Any tough moves he made out on the lacrosse field, any intimidation he managed with people like Stiles or the Alphas he had battled during the summer - it was all a farce. You were the only person that knew deep down, he was a puppy, just looking for guidance. At the end of the day, after everything he had been through in life - he was just looking for somewhere soft to lay his pretty head. 

Isaac let out a whine as you pulled away from the kiss to take a breath. He instantly wanted to protest, instantly began chasing your mouth. He didn’t care if he drowned in your mouth, if he died due to lack of oxygen. 

But of course, he didn’t settle for a lack of contact. 

While you combed your fingers through his hair and used the other hand to start untying the knot of his shorts, he immediately dipped his head down, seeking more of your precious skin. His neck almost became pained from the awkward angle, having to lean so far down due to his height - but he didn’t care. He dipped his head between your breasts and immediately began laving his tongue over the small cuts he had unintentionally left there. From him, it was a wordless apology, hanging his head in shame at the fact that he could ever hurt you, no matter how small, no matter how meaningless the tiny scratches were to you. 

In your mind, it didn’t matter. Owning a pet meant that sometimes you came off with a few tiny wounds. You would end up loving the scars. You let out small hiss at the sting of saliva, and then began moaning, and he was quickly driven mad by the twang of your blood on his tongue. 

“Isaac-” You moaned out hotly. 

He believed that he was a beast being fed by you, bound to devour you disastrously sooner or later - but you knew not to be afraid. He could do you no real harm. You could never truly be afraid of someone with such delicate sadness in his eyes. 

Especially not when he humped your hip like a lost puppy and whined against your skin like he had been kicked in the gut. His cock throbbed painfully inside his athletic cup, far too fucking restricted, crying out for your touch. He was grateful when you pushed down his shorts and his thin athletic pants underneath, and then took care to strip off his underwear and cup without hurting his sensitive, now very hard cock. 

“Aww, puppy.” You cooed - it was a playful pet name that you had used with him many times before, but for some reason, it practically punched him in the gut, easily forcing the air out of his lungs when he heard it. 

His responsive moan crescendoed into a harsh growl between his teeth when you reached out and grabbed his cock with a cool hand - it was an immediate contrast, his skin boiling hot with blood thumping so hard underneath, making his cock so rigid that it practically vibrated under your touch. The tip of his dick leaked furiously into your hand as you began casually pumping him, no distinct rhythm or precision in your movements, purposefully teasing him. 

“You need this, don’t you?” You purred, voice purposefully honey-sweet as you lapped up his reactions. “You need me.” 

“I need you.” Isaac panted in return without hesitation. “I need you, please.” 

You ran your thumb over the leaking slit of his cock, indulging in just how wet he was, loving how it showed his desperation, plain and clear. You also couldn’t help but to love the beautiful little whimper he let out from the back of his throat, the way his breath puffed across the exposed skin of your breasts, cooling the salvia he had left there. Your skin becoming more exposed as he reached a hand up and yanked down your bra, putting strain on the straps where they sat on your shoulders. 

“You gonna earn it?” You posed, feeling the devil on your shoulder, unable to resist. Isaac only whined in response. “Get on your knees for me like a good dog.” 

Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. 

When he had first become a werewolf and you had found out about it, you had made a good many ‘dog’ jokes about him. And he used to hate them. But over time, he had come to love the comparison because he loved being your dog. (It’s why the nickname ‘puppy’ put a warm fondness in his gut rather than making him feel humiliated.)  

He knew, at the end of the day, that it was true. He needed to be owned by you, he needed a damn leash. He was intensely loyal, despite himself. And no matter what, at the end of the day, he would always return to you, head down, looking for praise, looking to be fed - whether that was a feeding of the soul, or stupidly literal, who knows. 

Any other time, the words would have been embarrassing - it would have been something he argued against. But this time - he practically let out a bark to demonstrate his pure loyalty to you, and he rushed to follow the simple order. Even though he hated your touch leaving his cock as he dropped to his knees on the cold tiled floor (thankful that he was still wearing his knee pads where his clothing was caught in a tangle just above them), he was more than eager to serve you. He used a careful, precise claw to reach up and shred a hole in the crotch of your tights, quick to destroy your underwear as well when he found them in his way. 

“Good boy.” You easily praised him, and he found his brain once again delightfully fuzzy at the simple words. 

Your fingers were in his hair again, but he didn’t even need your touch driving him forward. He was drawn to your exposed cunt like a madman, more than eager to shove his face into the folds of your perfect pussy. He used a hand to lift your perfect plump thigh and pull it up over his shoulder, inviting you to sit some of your weight on him so that he could be closer to you, ever closer, closer. He shoved his tongue deep into your hot, wet hole and shoved his nose between your folds, unintentionally bumping against your clit, just hungry to taste and smell as much of you as he possibly could. 

“Isaac!” You moaned out, using your hold on his hair to try and keep him in place while you humped against his face, causing him to moan enthusiastically into your pussy. “Oh fuck, puppy! You’re so good.” 

The combination of the praise and the nickname was absolutely dizzying, and along with your wetness on his tongue, your smell so potent and perfect surrounding him - he felt as though he didn’t deserve something this good. But he didn’t care. He quickly became obsessed with drowning himself in you - with one hand possessively gripping your thigh beside his head and the other gripping the edge of your skirt, moaning frantically into you while he fucked his tongue in and out of you, lapping up as much of your taste as he could. 

“Oh fuck - such a sweet puppy, so good for me.” 

There was no skill to it. 

He was growing dumb between the ears, becoming more and more of the dog that you accused him of being - nothing but animal instincts and the loyal need to please you. He humped his hips into the air and his cock began leaking openly onto the floor, leaving a pathetic puddle of precum there that neither of you would notice, something that would have the janitor questioning later. 

Currently, all Isaac cared about was the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the wonderful essence of you that reminded him he was home. All he cared about was being good for you while getting a reward that he barely deserved; all he cared about was the wonderful heat of your pulsing cunt under his lips with your vibrating little button bouncing on his nose, getting to smother himself in your perfect scent. 

“Yes baby, so fucking good-” 

All of his moaning and insistent tongue-fucking meant that you were drawing close to your orgasm very quickly. 

Your thighs began to shake, your muscles jolting beside his head and he continued to lap it right up. He moaned even harder, angling his head to drive his tongue deeper into you as you became wetter, and he only basked as there was more for him to consume. You panted in harsh gasps as beautiful jolts of pleasure rang through your cunt while his tongue pierced you again, and again, and again, fucking you in the most perfectly thoughtless way. 

Your fingers dug into his scalp and he didn’t even care that you used the touch to drive him further to smothering while you rubbed your pussy across his face, smearing your wetness all over his cheeks and his chin, coating him so perfectly in your smell. He could only enjoy it as you came all over him and tipped your head back against the lockers behind you, your moans echoing against the walls like a perfect concert while the boys in the locker room across the hall were none the wiser. (The chatter of their conversations and the sound of their showers completely muting out the sound of your moans from reaching their ears.) 

“Fuck, Isaac! Oh, puppy! Such a good boy!” 

Isaac moaned at your words and his cock was downright throbbing now. 

But even though, in the back of his mind, his dick was cold in the air of the room and he wanted nothing more than to sink into your perfect pussy, he still felt a deep pang of disappointment when you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from your perfect, wet cunt. He let out a whine showing that disappointment, and fought to keep your leg on his shoulder as you moved to pull away. But still, he ultimately conceded to you when you patted his hand off your thigh and scolded him with a glare and a quiet warning of: 

“Behave.” 

“I wasn’t done.” He complained, his voice small. 

But still, he settled for licking your taste off his lips, looking up at you through his lashes from down on his knees. You combed your finger through his hair again, unable to stop yourself from admiring him, even if he was being a bit of a selfish brat. 

He was just so damn pretty. 

Porcelain skin stretched over perfect muscles, big pretty blue eyes staring up at you, his cock out and still leaking, bright red now due to being neglected by you. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect sight. You couldn’t help but to reach down and drag your thumb through some of the lingering wetness on his chin and feed it to him - and of course, he ate it right up, sucking the digit eagerly into his mouth and moaning around it. 

“Oh? So you don’t want to fuck me then?” You posed, playing off his words with a teasing statement that easily drove him mad. 

These words quickly sparked him to action. 

He jumped up off his knees, rising to his tall height once again, somehow so unintimidating. Such a sweet little wolf. 

With your back pinned up against the lockers for support, he grabbed your legs and pulled you up off the ground, his beyond human strength helping him to easily lift you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist - and just a moment later, as his cock perfectly lined up with your soaked entrance, you easily fell onto that perfect, stiff shaft. 

He didn’t hesitate to fuck up into you. He knew you didn’t need soft and you definitely weren’t expecting it, and any sense of patience he might have had was long gone. There was no sweetness, no slowness - all that was left was his pure possessive need to be close to you and your guiding hand driving him on, encouraging him as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks that would never last with his werewolf healing. 

“Good boy.” You told him, your breath slipping away for a moment as you were reminded of just how perfectly his cock could split you open. “Fuck, Isaac.” 

He kept one hand tight on your hip and the other went above your head, hanging onto the top of the lockers, desperate to hold on to something as he felt your perfect, hot wetness gripping his cock. Following his instincts, he fucked forward, slamming his hips into you, needing to feel more, needing to be closer to your warmth - needing more of you. 

“Need you.” He panted, his head falling to press his forehead close to yours, something that felt sweetly intimate for the situation, his eyes squinted tightly as he became overwhelmed by the sensations. “Fuck - need you, need you so much.” 

“Come on, puppy.” You encouraged him. “Come on, take what you need.” 

You tightened your legs around his waist, his movements nearly threatening to buck you off as he moved his hips so wildly - sheer need absolutely tight in every muscle as thick whines poured from his lips. You were eager to soothe him, your hands running up and down his sweaty back - some of it lingering from the hard work he had done during the game and some of new from how hard he was fucking you now, lighting up all the nerve endings inside your pussy, making you feel so perfect. 

“Such a good boy.” You moaned, your breath brushing against his lips - his mouth open as he struggled for air and continued to whimper sweetly for you. “Such a sweet little puppy. Good fucking dog.” 

Isaac let out a growl, fucking into you harder, his brain pure static at this point. 

Yes - he was a good dog. He was your good dog. 

He couldn’t help it when the pleasure surged through him, the pure energy, and his grip on the lockers above your head tightened so much that the metal started to crumble beneath his fist as if it was nothing more than a piece of paper. You heard the terrible shrieking groan of the metal, but you didn’t even bother to look up - you couldn’t have taken your eyes off Isaac in those moments. You were far too enraptured by your puppy in front of you, by the nearly pained look on his face, by the feeling of his perfect cock splitting you open as he faithfully fucked up into your pussy, not stopping for even a moment. 

You brought a hand to his face, grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger, digging the touch in - just a twinge of pain to get his attention, a firm grip to remind him that he was yours. 

“Look at me.” You demanded, your breath hot, your voice shaking slightly as the pleasure shook your body. “Come on, puppy - look at me.” 

He forced his eyes open, eager to be good for you, eager to do as you said. He gulped air in as he continued to grip onto your hip, the locker crumbling even more into a mess as the tension in his muscles was wrought into it, forced there rather than ever be taken out on you - even unconsciously, he could never use too much force on you. 

The silken blue that looked at you was a sight so beautiful that you couldn’t bear to look away, a mess of lust and ravenous madness, a prayer of devotion to you that was far too complex for words. You gave him a small, sweet kiss on the lips that he moaned so deeply at, his hips stuttering terribly as his balls downright ached - 

“Cum for me.” You demanded, the words a firm smack against his mouth, a punch to his gut that made him cry out. “Cum for me, puppy, be a good boy, come on-” 

He let out a strangled moan that dissolved into a downright filthy whimper from the back of his throat as his hips sped up, his skin practically blurring as he was now given precious permission from you. Your cunt became utterly sore with the speed and pressure his pelvis kept hitting you with, continually pounding into you with that impossible strength, the sound resonating harshly through the room, nearly threatening to break you. 

But it was only a few breathless moments later that a moan punched through his gut and you heard something that resembled your name choked through his throat - and then he fucked into you one last time, his hips then becoming glued to yours, almost entirely still in contrast to moments before. He ground against you sharply, overstimulating your swollen clit with the stiffness of his pelvis as he seemingly tried to merge with you through persistent will alone as he pumped his cum inside of you in warm spurts. 

“Good puppy,” You hummed, continuing to run your hands up and down his back and through his hair. You kissed down his cheek and his neck and along his shoulder, praising him, soothing him, worshipping him just like he deserved while his cock throbbed inside of you. “Good boy. So fucking good for me.” 

He moaned in return, words lost to the stupidly thick tongue inside of his mouth - one that was only capable of licking up and down your neck while he humped his cock inside of you for a few more moments, enjoying your soothing words and the warmth of your pussy around him as his orgasm ebbed away. 

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever like that. 

You pulled him in for one last kiss - one that the two of you savoured with a moan and a dip of tongues into each other’s mouths as he pulled his cock out of you. 

(Distantly, you had a thought about how you would have to walk out of here with no underwear - because you definitely weren’t going to keep on the scraps that he had left you, gaping with remnants of his cum inside of you. And you did feel a strange sense of satisfaction in that. Especially knowing that he would be able to smell that cum on you for hours with his werewolf nose, even if you went home and changed your clothes before Lydia’s mandatory ‘Lacrosse Team Win’ celebration party - and that was enough of a reason not to take a shower and scrub the scent off.) 

He let you down and you were unsteady on your legs, much like a baby deer, still having to lean on the lockers for support while he moved to grab some toilet paper from one of the stalls to help clean you both up. 

A heavy silence fell over the two of you, unlike any other time that you had sex with Isaac. 

While you righted your clothes (prying what was left of your underwear out from underneath your tights and throwing them away, along with the scraps of the shirt that had started this all, fixing your skirt, and putting your jacket on over your bra for some coverage) - and Isaac got dressed, you wondered what would happen next. Your eyes landed on the huge dent that was now in the top of the row of lockers, and you genuinely weren’t sure if you should ask him to try and fix it, or if it would just be better to leave it like that and let people wonder. 

“Please…” 

Isaac mumbled out, his voice so quiet, raspy around the edges due to the moaning he had just done. When you whipped your head toward him, he worked up the courage to finish the sentence. 

“Please… don’t talk about Scott anymore.” 

You stared at him, puzzled, as he put on his jersey (his pads still left on the floor, seeing as he didn’t need them anymore). Clearly, his mind had been on a completely different track. He was staring you down with those sad, glassy eyes once again, and you felt a terrible twinge of guilt tighten in your gut. 

You knew that he was the jealous type. That was why you had done all this. But you couldn’t go on being his secret fling, his secret fuck. His perfect confidant with no public title. 

So you prodded that wound one last time. 

“Why not?” You asked, risking it all. 

You would either leave this losing your best friend, the best sex of your life, and the person you loved most in the whole world - or you would leave this as a whole, better person. 

Isaac swallowed, and bowed his head, unable to look you in the eyes. Somehow, at six-foot-one, he looked so terribly small. He might not be able to do this. He might be too broken to live up to it. But you hoped, you prayed that he would - 

“Because I-” He shuddered, verging on tears. And somehow, he was able to get the words out. “Because I’m in love with you.” 

Everything inside of you lit up. More perfect than any orgasm, better than the feeling of his cock inside of you - this was what you had been missing the whole time. 

“And look, I understand that you might have just been playing around,” He continued, his words having a terrible meaning - acknowledging your game in wearing Scott’s numbers, and voicing his insecurities in your relationship, believing that you had been unserious with him because you had never loved him at all. “But it kills me to see you with other guys. I can’t-” 

You stepped forward, using a hand on the side of his jaw to pull him into another kiss. In a moment, he understood the passion, the warmth - something that went far beyond sexual needs. The way you guided him because you knew exactly what he needed. The unspoken connection the two of you always had that now needed those words. 

“Isaac, you should know I love you too.” You told him. “That I’ve been in love with you - since forever.” 

He let out a tense breath of relief. 

“I won’t talk about anyone else like that, or flirt with anyone, or anything along those lines, if that’s what you want.” You assured him. “You are mine, and I’m yours. Okay, pup?” 

He flushed at the nickname, and nodded, and you smiled brightly. 

“I’ll even get you a dog collar with my name on it so that everyone can know you’re mine.” You said - your tone was distinctly joking, but you didn’t miss the way he bit his lip, and the lustful light that grew in his eyes. 

“Shut up.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

(He definitely wouldn’t end up masturbating to thoughts of that later. Definitely not.)

...

Please keep in mind, there will not be a continuation or a 'part 2'. This is a oneshot, meaning that it is a complete story on its own and I do not feel the need to continue it. If you comment asking for a Part 2 or asking for a continuation after I have written this ending message, I consider that to be extremely rude and unkind.

If you are going to comment, please comment about the content of the fic that has been written. I love discussing the characters that I write about with other people in the comments and connecting with fellow fans. I work very hard on my fics and I always appreciate comments, but I do not appreciate when people only comment asking for more rather than wanting to discuss what I have already worked hard on.

Even if you don't comment, I hope you enjoyed, and if you want more from me because you enjoyed this fanfic a lot, you should definitely check out my Teen Wolf Masterlist, which has a lot of similar fics!

Happy Reading,

Sunny ☀️

[tyunningism]

3- “He’s not a stripper that’s Taehyun”

nav ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥before ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ next

warning !! sexual jokes n' innuendos

Written & Soc med sections, remember not to skip !!

Finally finishing your last lecture of the day you swivel on your chair to face Jungwon, who albeit voluntarily works as a dance instructor for little bratty kids who have no desire to become any good, looks like he’s decaying on the spot.

“How did you go from a 3 to a 1. Those dark circles are insane..”

“Actually fuck off and see how tiring 7/11 is for you.” Tucking in his seat he slings a bag over his shoulder and waits for you to finish packing up your countless scraps of paper you’ve ripped in to pieces, stuffing your unit of a laptop in your already squeezed bag and clutching on to the half water half iced americano you paid ten times what you should’ve for.

“First shift today?” You hum at his question, not because you didn’t want to talk to him, but because you quite frankly have no clue what you’re feeling or doing right now; constantly overshadowed by the thoughts of making a good impression on the colleague you’re working with today.

“Excited to see the girl I’m working with though, found her on twt.”

Seriously, the moment you get there you’re asking for a blow out tutorial because it’s perfect in her profile pic.

“If she’s hot tell her to ring me.” Jungwon jokes whoch only lands him a slap to his back launching him forward a couple more steps.

“Eww! You’re so gross !!” Your hands push open the double doors leading to the campus exit,

“Your timeline is more worrying than anything I said today.” Your eyes pierce through his as you huff.

“You don’t get it, it’s satire wonnie, no I don’t actually like buff men with whipped cream topped on their nips.”

“You sure?”

“Well maybe just a little bit..”

The bus you were supposed to be on to go to work fades out of your vision by the second- not even bothering to wait an extra minute before leaving for the next stop.

“Jungwon I’m gonna cry double u tee eff.” The last thing you want is to make the impression on Yeonjun that you can’t time yourself for shit as you groan obscenely.

“Maybe if you took less time packing up in that lecture hall you would’ve made it.”

“Oh don’t make it about that agai- Kai !!! Kai !! Wait up!-“ waving ecstatically you rush over to the familiar brunette and sit yourself down on to the cramped back seat space of his bike.

“Can you drop me off at Tubatu street or someone near? Pleasee, it’s really urgent!” Instinctively you clasp your hands together and look up to him desperately hoping that the time you spent together as chemistry project partners in high school was enough to land you a free ride.

And it’s not like he has the heart to turn you down anyway, not when he’s so timid he could-

“Sorry, can’t.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck but attempts to put on a sweet-ish smile.

Your jaw drops to the floor because the Kai from high school was such a kiss-ass you felt sorry for him everytime. “Kai who taught you that!!??”

“Yeonjun hyung, I was just joking I can still take you-” At the sound of his name you quickly protest back-

“Wait! Yeonjun’s my boss and I really need to be there at the 7/11 right now so can you pleasee drop me off?”

He only responds by chuckling at your flushed face before he starts pedalling off of the campus grounds, ready to poke fun at you for seeming so desperate.

“You’ve gotten meaner Kai, do you know that? If you really did leave me there to fend for myself I’d resent you for life!” You gently slap at his back which only erupts a couple more hearty giggles out of him, “Even if you weren’t my chem partner in high school I wouldn’t be able to turn you, let alone anyone, down. Andd it’s the second turn on the right.”

“Know that already Kai, I live ‘round here but thank you!” You dramatically hug him like he’s your life saviour before you hop off his bike and pat down your jeans. It’s nice to see that he hasn’t changed much since you last saw him, still as easygoing and nice as ever.

Though..you forgot to tell Kai that you really don’t know how to get to the back door of the 7/11 yet, so you pull out your phone-which is barely hanging on from forgetting to charge it when you were binge watching the rookie- only to see that your fellow coworker’s already quick on her feet to send you a message first.

Getting a bit sidetracked by her texts you swivel around the sketchiest back alley ever- spotting three exact doors at the end of it, unsure of which one was supposed to lead you in to the 7/11 you can only gently push to see which was one open, because surely they’d leave the back door accessible for a new employee to enter through.

So you opt for the only door which opens on your left, swinging at full force and a radiant “Hello!” to absolute crickets, your eyes scan what was supposed to be the ‘staff room of a 7/11’ instead filled with a batch of pool tables and a..a stripping pole? You quickly whip out your phone to message Soobin who you’re entirely sure is not a stripper-

“Wrong place.”

“Oh I’m sorry I thought this was the 7/11, oh wow.” A man, well built, (and winning in looks for sure) laid back on to the back rest of a velvet pink couch lazily slotted in the centre which complimented the buzz of pink in his hair, earning you a quick glare like you’ve intruded something. Not entirely dressed in the stripper attire you’d expect, but it’s still broad daylight so you assume he’s not going to be popping out any moves in some sort of lingerie right now, shame.

“Good luck tonight! I hope you get some extra tips on the pole!” You exclaim, hoping to ease the tension in the room, “what no-!?” slamming the door shut you don’t get to hear his next words, not that you’re interested because he’s probably trying to promote himself anyways, you pull out your phone to ask your soon to be coworker again because now you’re really lost.

Though you do have to make a quick twt post to boast about the absolute hottie you found near your apartment quarters too, maybe you’ll take Haewon with you some time who knows !!

Not a stripper huh..maybe a VIP customer ?? The thoughts eventually drain out of you as you push through the green door on your right this time, which seems to have unlocked since the last time you tried, probably with the aid of Soobin.

Sauntering in to the staff lounge you pick up on an (impressively)tall guy who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and glasses hung low on his noses. He catches your attention briefly, striking in looks but he couldn’t be any less important now, your insistence on finding Soobin is key !!

“Oh hey,” a shy hand waves at him before you ask the big question, “Is Soobin around?”

The man only responds my standing up straight promptly, his index finger pointing right back at him as he tilts his head.

“Yeah is there any other Soobin around except me?”

That’s it. Your jaw drops and any hopes and daydreams of asking for a blowout tutorial, asking to go on cute little girl dates and becoming bffs along side Haewon completely flies past your head.

“What?” He starts to sound annoyed at your extreme expression, checking to see if there was something on his face or perhaps a loose fly on his jeans.

“You’re a man?” You gasp again, slightly too dramatically for Soobin’s liking.

“You thought I was a woman??” He gasps even more dramatically than he intended, the whole scene becoming a soap opera.

“Wait wait wait..so the hottie on your twitter profile isn’t you?”

Soobin , the six foot man and not the baddest bitch you were ever gonna meet in your life, scoffs.

“Well I wouldn’t talk down on my looks that plainly..but I thought it was common sense that I’m not Gyuri? You literally messaged me today and saw my profile- how did you not clock that?”

You blink once at his round eyes then twice at your glowing phone screen and there you notice it, a small circle of him taking a mirror pic- how did you not realise?

“Pfft- haha! Sorry Soobin don’t hold a grudge against me for this yeah?” you gently slap on his arm hoping to ease up the awkward misunderstanding but his automatic pout only exaggerates.

“Day one with you and you’ve already hurt my ego geez.”

You laugh at his childishness, cocking your head to the right as you pick up your uniform, “so, how should I make it up to you then?”

“Buy me ice cream and I’ll forgive you for your mortal sin.” He smirks a bit odd, but you take it as a first step in maintaining a good relationship with your co worker; feeling more at ease to tease and joke with him now that you’ve settled it.

Soobin works like he’s got 3 children to look after and bills to pay, glued to his spot behind the till as he checks out customer after customer like some he’s part of some sort of dystopian propaganda for capitalism with how much he grinds at his job.

Plus, you can see why he’s so highly appraised by Yeonjun, a whole line of women wait outside the store just to interact with him, and he doesn’t reject it either; he chooses to ask them about their day and how their kids are doing, how they’re catching up on school work and wow- Soobin’s insanely good at his job because by the end of it he’s got a jar full of tips and you’re exhausted just from watching him.

“You’re insane you know, how’d you talk to customers like that without getting..I don’t know-nervous?”

The male replies by dropping his head down and slumping beneath the counter, choosing to stay silent for a bit.

“I don’t even know myself really. Usually I’d be pissed terrified but I guess I’ve just been here so long that it’s a habit now.” You hum in approval at his answer, swinging your legs off the small stool beside him as you checked on your phone, “10:57” you yawn. “We’ve tidied everything right Soob?”

“Yeah, it’s been a busy day. You’ve learnt everything right? How is it?”

You look back up from your phone and in to his expecting eyes, probably for some more praise which he gets plentiful from the aunties that come in just to see him, but there’s nothing really to it except you like how laid back it is while Soobin works 24/7 in your stead.

“Better than I thought! You’re better than I thought too even if I did think you were a girl at first, I think you’re really hardworking- I can see why Yeonjun sparks you as his best employee so much.”

And you’re right because he gets all giddy and tries to play it off as simply nothing when you can see straight through his flushed ears that he’s bouncing up and down now. It’s cute, you think, but then again you find everyone and everything cute in some sort of way.

The comfortable silence is interrupted when the same buzz of pink hair enters through the doors.

“Oh look stripper guy!-“ Ohh you’ve hit a nerve. Soobin’s hand smacks right against your mouth to stop you from digging your grave even further, whispering in to your ear “he’s not a stripper I told you that !!!”

“And who might this be?” The pink ‘tooty frootie’ as you’d like to refer to him strides up to the counter and leans over it, moving the piece of gum he was chewing between his gums and mouth before staring directly at you.

“I’m Y/N, Yeonjun hired me a couple days ago!”

“Ahh so you’re the only one without a criminal record, got it.” He snaps a finger gun at you before asking Soobin to ring him up some beer,

“Oh and it’s Taehyun. And I’m not a stripper, I have access to the staff room there because I work as a bouncer from time to time. Mainly work here on Tuesdays though so don’t start spreading nonsense in that head of yours.”

“Okay..so, do you still do private shows?”

@/tyunningism's work do not copy, steal, or repost.

Taglist !!!: @soobinieswife , @kagtobis , @soobinz-wife , @jellyyjn

[bluem1ngs]

It was the first snowfall Tenerife had seen in years, it was an absolute miracle.

There he stood, in front of the white colonial home that he grew up in.

He makes adjustments to his crimson scarf, pulling it up over his face to hide his already intensely flushed cheeks from the cold. Hands tucked inside his long, brown trench coat, he stood along the snow covered streets.

He’d begun to think back at all those years, those times he’d spent with the Corleone’s & his beloved Cordy. Oh, how he missed her.

Suddenly— the door opens abruptly, and Mr. Corleone appears, looking almost astonished before breaking into a broad smile.

The man Pedro might consider his second father reached out to the young man he had practically raised and gave him an embrace, which Pedro gladly welcomed.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Corleone."

Remaining somewhat taken aback by his surprise at seeing the man, Pedro smiles.

"Please, come in, come in." the older man welcomes,

Pedro enters the house through the wider door that the man has opened, and as he does so, he looks around, recalling all the memories that have been made here.

At the doorstep, Pedro dusts the snow off of himself and his shoes on the rug.

In an attempt to make the young man feel comfortable, Mr. Corleone removes his jacket and hangs it up.

"How long has it been since we've last seen you?" The man asks, leading Pedro through the living room and asking him to please take a seat on the coach, to which Pedro accepts.

"I've have to say about, two years? After that trip me and—" he pauses, not being able to say her name,

"Cordelia.. came to visit." he finishes and looks up at her father to see almost a frown on his face.

"Speaking of Cordelia.. have you've guys spoken since?” Mr. Corleone inquires, unsure of whether or not he ought to have done so initially.

Pedro almost laughs, finding it funny that he somehow ended up at her parents doorstep without a reason, or anything to say, only the fact that he needed to see her, and to talk to her.

"Actually.. I, uh, I don't even know why l'm here— I don't think l'm no longer invited back here anymore."

Mr. Corleone almost instantly gives a shake of his head.

"Nonsense, of course you are, Pedro. No matter what happens between you and my daughter you'll always be welcomed in to our home. All these years we've spent raising the two of you, nothing could ever change that."

Pedro looks up at the older man, and smiles a weak smile.

It's silent between the two men, only the sound of the wood burning in the fireplace cackling.

"How is she?" Pedro suddenly asks, in a whisper as if he's hesitant.

Mr. Corleone sighs, "She's good, she's doing great." giving him a comforting smile.

The front door opens, and Mrs. Corleone steps into the house with a smile on her face— then it drops.

"Pedro," the woman whispers, and then looks back out the front door.

"What's wrong?"

Cordelia walks into the house, and with a smile on her lips, finding her mother’s sudden shocked expression funny, she turns to look at what her mother seems so surprised by.

She wore a dark brown coat, and a beige scarf and matching gloves, and brown boots. Her once dark brown hair a few shades lighter, and it was curled.

She lets the smile fall from her lips, and she stares him— him, the guy she had so much history with, it hurt her.

She collects herself, smiling once more.

She was always good at putting a smile on her face.

She approached her father and kissed his cheek, saying, "We have found you many more presents, daddy."

"Great. I can't wait." The older man joked, sharing a subtle laugh with his wife.

Cordelia approached Pedro, and he embraced her without saying anything.

He felt the way her breathing subsided, and her hands that lightly grazed him.

He'd once longed to feel her touch, to hold her in her arms just one more time for what seemed like years that separated them.

He was well aware that things between them were far from normal, with unspoken words still to be exchanged. He knew, however, that she had never liked to put their troubles between her parents and had always made an effort to ensure that they were aware that nothing was wrong between the two.

She once told him that she hoped her parents would have been disappointed if they had known about everything that had happened over the past ten years between their cherished daughter and the man who had been in her life for so long. Of course, not in them, but in the circumstance.

Though time never appeared to be on their side, they had always hoped that the two would end up together.

She drew away from his embrace and looked up at him.

She fixed the collar of his shirt, letting her hands rest at his chest for a moment.

In that moment, he felt as though his heart would completely stop beating altogether.

"It's nice to see you, Pedro." she spoke softly, "I hope you'll be staying for dinner. I'm making rigatoni, she says with the ever so sweetest smile.

Pedro nods, " If you'd like," taking the time to admire her.

She lets out a breath, making her way to the kitchen and tying an apron around her waist.

Pedro watched her from across the room,

She stood under the crimson light, with a concentrated look on her face as she diced some onions for her famous rigatoni.

She made it for him the very first night they spent together in their home.

Of course, the Barcelona villa the two had formerly called home was no longer theirs.

Pedro became buried in his own lingering thoughts as he gazed at her attentively.

He recalled the night she had left him, and it seemed as if he was experiencing the same emotion in his heart at that precise time.

During those months, he spent his time closed away in that house that once held so many memories of her.

Naturally, he didn't toss away his entire life because he still had his career, which he had fought so hard to get, but a part of him felt that it all wouldn't be worth it if he couldn't enjoy it with her any more.

Pedro’s Barcelona teammates were very supportive and always made an effort to bring him out of the house. Frankly, It never seemed to work, but one day Pedro just so happened to agree to spend the night out in a bar in Barcelona.

It'd only been an hour and a half and Pedro left the bar, not being able to bear the loud music and the crowd.

He strolled alone through the streets of Barcelona.

His attention is drawn to the adjoining restaurants brilliant decorations, music, and delicious aroma of cuisine.

The bell from the restaurant door rings, and a pair emerges laughing, walking out hand in hand.

Pedro exhales, walking into the restaurant.

He stood upon the entrance, looking around into the busy restaurant.

His heart stopped entirely, and he felt his eyes narrow and his brows furrow almost as if he were attempting to imagine what he was seeing.

She wore a beige silk dress, with her once-dark brown hair now slightly lighter, resting upon her slender shoulders.

She formally thanks the woman who appears and places a glass in front of her. A man sat in front of her, saying something that must've made her smile even more.

With his heart in his hands, Pedro approached the table where she sat.

It was so sudden, he didn't even realize what he was doing.

Slowly, Cordelia turned her attention away from the man seated in front of her and toward the man whom she once loved standing right in front of her.

"Pedro," she pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words, not sure what to say.

Pedro took in every nuance of her,

She looked incredibly beautiful sitting there in that dress.

"What are you doing here?" she finally spoke, her voice soft & delicate. God, how he missed the sound of her sweet voice.

Pedro smiles that charming smile of his, saying, "Just wanted to grab a bite to eat."

Cordelia softly smiles, noticing the sudden shift in mood from her date's half.

"Pedro, l'd like you to meet Matthew," she tells him, introducing the two.

The man named Matthew reached out to shake Pedro’s hand to which Pedro is reluctant.

"Pedro," Cordelia says, taken aback at his bluntness.

"Cordy, can I talk to you?" Pedro interrupts, with a sedate look on his face.

Cordelia looks at him, perplexed for words at his impoliteness.

She turns to her date, ushering him an apology.

"If you'll excuse me, this'll only take a moment."

The man only nods, understandingly.

Pedro gently takes Cordelia by the hand, leading her out of the restaurant.

"Pedro, you're being incredibly rude. What is it with you?" Cordelia asks him.

It was the first time that night that she took a good look at him. His brown hair that she once buzzed for him was overgrown and his beard stubble looked as thought it hadn't been shaved in months. But most of all, he had this look in his eyes, that held a variety of emotions in them. It almost seems as like he is attempting to express his thoughts to her at that precise time.

"Come home," Pedro simply stated, through the stiffness of the night.

Cordelia intently stares at him, taken aback at his words.

Pedro stood there, hoping for a response from her that only he dreamt about at night.

Cordelia gazes at him with an amorous glance, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek.

"It isn't my home anymore." she tells him with a gentle smile. It was as a way of stillness, to close this chapter of her life.

Pedro intently watched her walk away from him.

He felt a pain in his heart, feeling as if his complete world had ended.

That was the night that they'd last seen each other. It was almost two years ago now.

"Pedro," a voice calls out,

Pedro slowly comes back to reality, seeing Mrs. Corleone waving her hand in front of his face to catch his attention.

"Pedro, dear, are you alright?" the woman kindly asks.

"Oh, yes, sorry. I must've zoned out for a moment." Pedro responds, subtly laughing.

"You were out of it for quite some time." Mr. Corleone, with a sly grin making Pedro chuckle.

Pedro’s laughter subsided as he stared at Cordelia who was in her own world.

The old record player played a record and she sweetly sang along to it.

That record player was once Mr. Corleone’s whom was passed down to him by his father.

Mr. Corleone was very much responsible for Cordy’s one of a kind music taste. In fact, the man even got Pedro into some music that to this day, Pedro still listens to and everytime he does, he thinks back at those old memories back in the Corleone' resident, listening to records with his dearest Cordy and her father.

"If you'll excuse me," Pedro spoke to the older couple, entering the kitchen.

Jazz music played in the midst of the tension between the two.

Only his presence overall was enough to bring chills to her spine as he stared ahead at her.

He looked incredibly handsome standing there.

She finally met his gaze, asking him a favor, "Would you be a dear and pour my parents some wine?"

Pedro nodded, "Of course," swiftly setting down a few glasses on the counter, as he poured wine into them.

He'd went to give the wine filled glasses to Mr. & Mrs. Corleone, and then came back into the kitchen.

Pedro came from behind Cordelia, his body so close against hers, setting her own glass of wine down in front of her.

Cordelia felt her breath shudder, feeling his loving touch after so long.

Pedro took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving her.

"I'm sorry for showing up so abruptly. Especially since how long it's been." he sincerely tells her.

"There's no need to apologize," Cordelia softly hums, "We're all happy to have you here."

Pedro looks at her intently, asking, "What about you?"

Cordelia doesn't look up from the pot of sauce that she stirs, with a simple laugh leaving her mouth, as she questions him, "What about me?"

"Are you happy to have me here?" he asks looking very solemn.

Cordelia meets his strong gaze, momentarily beaming that gorgeous smile of hers, "Of course, I am."

Pedro nods, "It's just we're so far from who we use to be," with complete certainty.

It was silent for a moment, just the distant sound of Christmas music playing on the record.

Cordelia serenely stares at him, ushering out, "What have you been up to, Pedro Gonzalez?"

Pedro grins at her words, thinking to himself for a moment.

"Nothing much, just focusing on my career."

Cordelia gives Pedro a look, "You mean to tell me that after all this time, no girl has swept you off your feet?"

Pedro smiles, telling her, "I believe if there'd be any wooing it'd be me doing it. But, no if you mustn't know.. I haven't been swept away."

Cordelia laughs that adorable laugh of hers that Pedro once loved dearly.

He asked her, "What about you, Ms. Corleone?" with a charming smile forming upon his lips.

Cordelia exhaled with a smile on her lips, "Just living life."

To this end, he grins even more, taking in her beauty for a moment.

She asked him why he had that look on his face, as though he saw there was something on her face, like a smudge of tomato sauce or something.

Pedro assured her it was nothing with a simple shake of the head while grinning.

Cordelia looks down, unable to control the silly smile on her lips.

Pedro intently stares at Cordelia, taking in the sight of her.

"You're absolute gorgeous, do you know that," he tells her more rather than a question, with complete clarity and sincerity.

Cordelia only grins at him, "Of course, you've told me that everyday for years."

Pedro felt his heart swell with love.

He was absolutely smitten by her and he wouldn't want it any other way.

Mr & Mrs Corleone watched from afar, taking the time to admire the two young adults that they raised. Oh, how wonderful human beings they'd become. To be frank, it was just perfect within the idea of what could be, once more.

It was around 10' that night, just hours before Christmas Day.

Only the sound of firewood cackling throughout the dimmed living room was heard.

Cordelia sat on the carpet, reminiscing as she looked through old family photos.

Pedro joins her, handing her a mug of hot cocoa.

Cordelia takes it, whispering a thanks.

"What are you looking at?" Pedro asks, letting his eyes roam over the many pictures that captured Cordelia’s life.

"Oh, just some old photos," she spoke softly, "I'm looking to find any with you,"

To this, Pedro glances up from the photos, smiling broadly at the woman who sat in front of him.

At the sight of Cordy’s gorgeous smile, he looks over at the photograph she held up in her hands. It was a picture from years ago,

Pedro’s arm slung over Cordelia’s shoulder, as the two posed for the picture. He remembers that moment like it was just yesterday. The Gonzalez’s and Corleone’s had gone on a camping trip together and Mrs Corleone had taken that very photograph of the two teenagers sitting around the campfire.

It was always just the two of them. From the beginning, it was always Pedro and Cordy, the two bestest friends in the world.

"We had no idea what would come for us,"

Pedro mutters, making Cordelia slightly smile.

"Yeah," she exhales, "Back then I would've never imagined you'd be the one I spent all those years with,"

"I would've," Pedro whispers out into night.

"I always knew you were the one for me," he intently tells her, "I still do."

Cordelia only softly smiles,

Pedro glances down at her hand, remembering the engagement diamond that once rested upon her ring finger.

"What ever happened to us?" he asks her, in a solemn tone.

"We were two people going in different directions." Cordelia gently says.

"We were engaged, Cordy." Pedro says with complete agonizing clarity.

Cordelia stares ahead, feeling his words sting a part of her that still strongly held him within.

With a heavy heart, Pedro tells her, "I love you, Cordy," letting out a sigh of exasperation, "I have always, always loved you,"

In this moment, Cordelia’s emotions began to overwhelm her.

“I am determined to be happy, Cordy. Happy in this life, and I love you but—“ he lets out a shaky breath, completely dedicating, “Time is no man’s friend, so I have to get right with that and be happy now, because this is it. This is all that we get, Cordy.”

Cordelia stares at him with teary eyes, conveying many thoughts.

“I also want for you to be happy,” Pedro smiles a little bit, to conceal his wanderlust emotions,

“It’s really important to me for you to be happy, so, I want you to be with someone— whether it be Sevilla guy, or a man you haven’t even met yet. But, I want you to be with someone... who can be apart of a life that you want for yourself. I want you to be with someone who makes you feel like I feel when I’m with you. So, I guess the point to this long run-on sentence, that’s been the past seventeen years of our lives— is just that the simple act of being in love with you, is enough for me. So, you’re off the hook.”

Cordelia shudders, almost lost for words, “Pedro, I—“ letting out a shaky breath, “I don’t want to be left off the hook.”

Pedro intently stares at her, with a small smile forming onto his lips as he listens to her.

“Everything I’ve ever done in my life has always led me back to you,”

To this, she tells him, “Pedro, I love you, you know that,”

Pedro looks down with a smile,

“It’s so real that it’s kept me moving— mostly running from it.. never ready for it and I can’t be left off the hook because I might just keep running from you.” she tells him, with such passion and dedication.

Pedro takes in every nuance of her,

She sat there in the midst of the room, with tears running down her cheeks but looking still as beautiful as ever.

Pedro couldn’t help but to slightly chuckle,

His hands gently held her cheeks, wiping away any tears.

He places his lips on hers. It was gradual, and delicate. As they kissed, the crimson light fell on their faces.

She slowly brings them apart, her eyelids fluttered half-closed as she relished the kiss.

“You’re never left off the hook,” Pedro tells Cordelia, making her laugh in the midst of her tears just before he draws her in for another kiss.

[charlie-pippin-faraday]

A compilation of my favorite Makoto lines you get if you fuck around in chapter 6 instead of investigating where you're supposed to:

The shelves in the warehouse: How can they afford all this stuff? Are they making that much money off their damn "killing game" broadcast? That's the only way I can think of for them to be able to buy all this. Whoever they are, they must be an adult. A dirty, awful, evil adult!

The bath water inside the bathhouse: I just realized I haven't taken a bath since I rolled around in all that trash...I could really use a nice bath to clear my head...but there's no time!

Sauna: Urg...it's so hot. Makes it hard to even focus...I feel like I'm slowly losing my mind...Y-Ya know, if you pronounced "Thursday" like "Thaursday"...that'd be kinda funny...

The machinery/control panel thing in the physics lab: The sound of the machinery seems like it's trying to tell me something...It's exploring the structure of the materials, recording the interaction of the elements...From individual particles to cosmic systems, including the phenomena of life itself...That's physics!

The shelf in the physics lab equipment room: Now that's a big shelf.

The locker in the rec room: This is where Toko hid when Sakura...It almost seems fitting. Not that I'd ever say that to her... [wtf do you mean by that, Makoto???]

The chess-themed bottles in the rec room: Did Monokuma make this bottle himself? Like...by hand? Or paw? Or whatever?

The pool table in the rec room: The pool table...For some reason, I feel like Byakuya would be into something like this. [side note: based on my notes and what I remember, I genuinely don't think Byakuya stepped foot into the rec room until Sakura's death. Like, there's not even a free time slot where he's hanging out in there. So why would Makoto think this lol. Is he just fantasizing about Byakuya?]

The Monokuma statue in the art room: I have to assume Monokuma made this statue himself...What kinda big-shot wannabe makes a statue of himself? That's so medieval...

The plaque on the trophy case in the gym entryway: When I look at this plaque, I think..."so what?"

Hiro's room: This is Hiro's room. I don't have any reason to want to go inside...

Hina's room: This is Hina's room. I don't wanna imagine what she'd do if I went in without telling her...

Byakuya's room: This is Byakuya's room. If I set foot inside without asking, he'd feed me to the vultures...

Kyoko's room: This is Kyoko's room. I think she'd be *very* unhappy if I just barged in without permission...

[Interestingly enough, despite being alive, Toko's room doesn't get a personalized thought like the other 4 do, that line of dialogue isn't that much different than the one you get when clicking on the doors of all the dead students. Meanwhile Sayaka's room actually gives you something ever so slightly different. Just an interesting thought]

The gun by the front door: This makes me think of that evil robot from Robocop...I really don't have time to be thinking about Robocop. Still, what a great movie...

The cardboard box in the A/V room: Maybe there's some Monocoins hiding in here somewhere... [followed by me immediately finding a Monocoin]

The DVD player in the A/V room: I mostly rent DVDs, so I don't really have too many of my own. That's probably true of most people, so I dunno why I bothered to say anything... [nothing dates this game and says "this was made in 2010" quite as much as this line imo]

The clock in the dining hall: Time is money, they say. Which means I'm burning through my life savings just by existing...

And then finally, my personal favorite:

The swimsuit hanging in the laundry room: You know, all this time the swimsuit's been here, I never found out whose it was. Let's see...Ah! It has Hiro's name written on it! I've been lied to! In so many ways!

[thetrialsandtribulationsofeb]

i’m in the mood to rank buck’s and eddie’s love interests throughout the show from the “best” (ish) to the worst, ‘cause why not:

1) ali - we didn’t see a lot of their relationship, and maybe that’s what saved her, lol. but, like, overall, i actually liked her personality, and she and buck looked good together. i also understand her reason for breaking up with him - not everyone can handle buck’s lifestyle. and she at least waited till he recovered a little bit before breaking up with him, so bonus points for politeness, i guess. (though i understand tatiana’s perspective on her breakup with chimney too.) also, the way she was gently stroking buck’s cheek as he was crying is living in my head rent-free

2) shannon - she wasn’t the perfect mum and she wasn’t the perfect wife, but i liked her personality. she was cute and kind and tried to make it work for so many years until she finally broke down. and i still think it’s mostly eddie’s fault, ‘cause he actually didn’t have her back. he wasn’t there for her when she needed him the most. and he still didn’t put himself fully into their relationship when they reconnected, even though she wanted to give them a chance again. so, yeah, i think she had the potential to be a good partner - not her fault she got caught up in this mess. they both were young and stupid and didn’t know any better until reality caught up (eddie not being able to love her the way he wanted to love her, and she wanted to be loved)

3) taylor - i kind of hated her in the beginning because of wanting to reveal bobby’s personal life in her video about the 118, but i started to like her in season 4. she actually had a fleshed-out and complex personality - one that didn’t match with buck’s, in a romantic sense at least. but they made a great team as friends and partners-in-crime. i also think she should’ve broken up with buck after he cheated on her. but, yeah, another case of two people falling in love with each other and ignoring all the ways they’re incompatible until it finally blows up in their face. i’d say at least buck learned what he doesn’t want in a relationship while being with her - but then he dated natalia and tommy, so yeah…

4) abby - look, i think she was actually pretty okay during their relationship. and i also don’t see the age gap as an issue, ‘cause buck was 26 at the time and already had a lot of life experience. like, it doesn’t count as grooming imo, so who cares that she was older. and it’s nice that buck decided to take things slow and learn how to be in a serious relationship, and she gave him that chance. ‘cause, yes, she maybe saw him as a boytoy, but she still also took time to learn about his personality. but obviously, they were never meant to last, ‘cause she was at a very different stage in her life. buck just built a castle on sand with the way he got so involved in their relationship. BUT, i will consider her a bitch for not breaking up with him properly and stringing him along for several months. like, i get your reasons, girl, but how about communicating them and letting the other person know instead of giving them false hope?

5) ana - she had more chemistry with ravi in that one scene than with eddie in all their time together… also, i can’t tell much about her personality. their relationship was just boring. but she is gorgeous

6) marisol - again, such a beautiful woman. eddie couldn’t care less though. he likes them blue-eyed. i don’t know whether i should respect her for her amount of patience or, on the contrary, feel pity for her. i’m putting her below ana ‘cause she managed to have even less chemistry with eddie than her

7) natalia - it took a long time to decide whether to put her in last place or not. but my dislike for tommy turned out to be stronger. her biggest problem was just her obsession with death. which is a weird reason to date someone

8) tommy - first of all, i’m still holding a grudge about hen and chim and how he didn’t do anything to stand up for them or at least let them know privately that he’s on their side, like chim did with hen when she first got into the 118. i don’t like people with sheep minds. secondly, he was definitely the one who saw buck as some hot prize/himbo and didn’t care the least about his personality. and at first i thought “oh, thank god for seeing that buck is into men and kissing him to finally let him know that,” but then he turned out to be the shittiest boyfriend in the world, and i was like, “oh, here we go, another meaningless relationship for buck that didn’t work out, because the person he’s dating doesn’t fit him at all”

also, this confirmed again that both buck and eddie’s problems in their relationships stem from them not really thinking about their actual wants and needs, and just doing it out of some internal pressure they put on themselves - which they call “going with their gut”

when in reality, it’s more like: buck tries to fill the hole inside of him with any relationship he can find, even if they’re bad for him, ‘cause he doesn’t like to be alone, and he thinks he needs to be of service to someone (he’s a helper and a fixer, after all - the unconscious trauma that was implanted in him basically since his birth)

and eddie tries to have that “ready-made” family he had with shannon (i’m actually obsessed with how he romanticizes his relationship with her by calling it “magic” when their marriage was ready-made too, because she got pregnant and they were pretty much forced to marry without figuring out first whether they even wanted it or not)

meanwhile, they choose each other over and over again because they actually want to

they have shared values, they understand each other like no one else. and even when it all goes wrong, they fix the problem and still choose each other instead of giving up on their relationship

and it’s mutual. that’s the key - they both want the same thing. each other, and the family they built with chris

so yeah

buddie canon when?

[heartinhands]

Cloud's entire life has been watching. Observing. Waiting. He's not that dissimilar from Kunsel and Aerith even though his rank would make other people beg to differ. But no--First Class meant nothing. He was always biding his time, waiting to leave Nibelheim. Waiting to catch the eye of some SOLDIER to recommend him to the team. Waiting for the next mission that would help his rep and shoot him into First Class. Then, what, waiting to go on missions with Sephiroth, his--their, he's Kunsel's too--old buddy, because he thought he had something in common with him? That had been the mistake. Probably. Thinking he could talk to Sephiroth and be on equal footing with him, lend him an ear, be real friends. In actuality Cloud thinks maybe he'd probably made Sephiroth uncomfortable even when they actually got along. After all he did come to Shinra with his heart set on becoming Just Like Sephiroth. Idiot. Obviously that was an isolating experience, one Sephiroth probably resented for a long time before it boiled over in the manor and led to the worst possible outcome. But Aerith might be able to understand that similar loneliness...

No. Cloud refuses to treat her like that or hold her above the rest of her fellow humans; he's no Shinra SOLDIER anymore but it doesn't matter if she's a Cetra or not or if she is more connected to the Planet than the rest of them--she's still just Aerith. They didn't get the luxury of growing and understanding themself. And anyway Aerith might have had the same experiences as Sephiroth but seeing the anger in their eyes when he gets brought up is even easier than saying 'Not interested'--Aerith is not like Sephiroth no matter their shared loneliness. And at this point, Sephiroth is likely to find that diverting path a sin for which Aerith must atone.

Reunion...Cloud shudders.

Kunsel is better at comforting than Cloud is, always has been, gently rubbing at Aerith's terrified arm, pulling her into a loose, watery hug, casual endearments falling soft as cumulus wisps. And Cloud watches. Aerith's green-leaf eyes touch his like a stone falling into water. His eyes meet hers easily, blank, expressionless, ripples of nothing emanating outwards in his irises, a mirror of nothing but mako-blue and extorted Lifestream energy. Why do they look so apologetic? They've done nothing wrong.

"Good," he finally says and realizes his hands stopped shaking at some point a bit ago. Kunsel is listening. Kunsel understands. Suddenly he has a second epiphany: he didn't think Kunsel would trust him. Why? They're best friends. "Good. Yeah." A wash of relief. Kunsel can be saved. This doesn't have to be just watching and waiting anymore. Cloud was bad at action but--someone was good at it. A shroud settles a cheerful pat on Cloud's shoulders and says nice job. "We can settle this before the Planet explodes." In anyone else's words it'd be a joke. Cloud, of course, delivers such a silly line with the utmost seriousness. "We have to. Oh. And. To answer your question... I think we're heading back to the Gold Saucer soon."

@spirestar

What else can they say? How are they supposed to help? They weren't there. They were outside, like Kunsel. Aerith knows her life of hiding, her memories blanketed by cold walls and wonders, idly, if Sephiroth remembers the same. If there were more Cetra, she'd be happy. They wouldn't be the only one who could do--Insert too many things here. She wouldn't be valuable and it would be better. But Sephiroth is. Just ants... Each and every time they're confronted with more than the Midgar propaganda images of the boy soldier-turned-SOLDIER that is Sephiroth, they feel more strongly about their need to stop him. Her eyes are still on Cloud's hands when he finishes speaking like somehow she's caught them in motion blur, watching the last of his shakes trail away.

"He won't do it again." Is she saying it so firmly for herself or for Cloud or for all of them? Aerith really doesn't know. It probably doesn't matter. They're angry and they're tired of pretending not to be. They can't smell the smoke that Cloud can but hearing his breath cut up each word is enough. Sitting with Kunsel in silence for the few times a year they could see each other, watching him try not to cry is enough. They pluck the umbrella out of their drink and wield it like it might be their staff, pointing it at some point on the horizon, some spot between her two friends that's invisible to anyone but them. If she were any less tipsy, she'd never let the cold touch her voice like this, "He thinks nobody can stand up to him. That he can choose for the Planet."

It's so stupid. If Aerith were a crueler person, they might laugh at how nonsensical it sounds from their perspective. Why should any one person have that right? Nobody else is her, though, so it's unfair. Before she says anything else, she drops the umbrella back into her drink and pokes at the melting ice cube there. They don't even realize they're clenching their jaw until they exhale softly, cheeks burning.

"If they send SOLDIER to fight him, you have to get out, Kunsel. You have to leave." This she adds more fearfully, only just realizing the exact way Shinra will want to clean up their mess. SOLDIER for SOLDIER and if everyone's gone in the end, then that's everything mopped up. Green eyes go wide beneath the shadow of her hat brim, finally meeting Cloud's with a half-apology--for?? even they're not sure exactly, for sounding upset maybe? or talking about it more than they have already, for saying things she's not sure she's entirely admitted before--and then Kunsel's with a fierce sort of fervor. "He isn't who you knew. Who--" He's not Zack's friend, he's not the hero Shinra made dance for them in their war--"You shouldn't have to. To--"

@sentmail

[larkkspuur]

ive been building something in minecraft the past few days that like. man. this is some sort of catharsis.