#i hope i can sprinkle you with sunshine like you did me!

[matan4il]

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💐

Awwww, Ashley! Thank you so much for this message, it's so lovely and sweet! I'm getting ready for yet another challenging week at work, and a medical appointment that I've been waiting on for months, so this cheering me up means more than I can say. Thank you again, hon, I hope you're having a great day, too! Sending you endless love! As always, my ask tag. xoxox

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

[hwanchaesong]

Labyrinth (Unexpected Love) Preview

pairing: Sunoo X F!Reader

synopsis: You've always held yourself to a high standard, you must, because it's your pride and joy. In the middle of your journey to success, comes a sunshine that brought you coffee stains, ruined paper works, and sassiness.

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

"This is basically kidnapping, you know? I can sue you for this."

"Stop yapping."

You laughed in disbelief at his reply, literally, who does he think he is?

"You have the balls to tell me that, Sunoo." you slumped on the leather seat of his newly bought car, which surprised you because last time you checked, driving is something that scares him and a driver's license makes him scream in fear.

He side eyes you for a second before returning his attention on the road, "I told you to stop yapping, didn't I?"

You zipped your mouth at that, but that didn't stop you from cursing him inside your mind.

The man literally dragged you out of your apartment, halting all your works and studies while continuously rambling about his new achievement in life... and that he's taking you somewhere.

He didn't bother telling you where, just that he's sure you'll love it.

You turned your head to look at the scenery outside the window. Pine trees surrounding the area, sunflowers growing randomly and the thin fog adds a sprinkle of mystery about the place.

A small smile tugged on the corner of your lips as you sipped on your iced americano, feeling oddly refreshed at the sudden drive and journey to nowhere.

Then you begun to wonder, since when did you start feeling and thinking like this?

Since when have you started thinking of having fun, letting yourself feel the joy of being free from the expectations and pressure of the people around you?

Since when have you started taking care of yourself, buying yourself the things that you've always wanted to buy. Doing skin care, eating whatever you wanted, playing games all night long until your alarm rings, signalling for you to wake up when in reality you were just about to sleep.

Since when have you started loving yourself more?

"And.. we're here!" Sunoo yells, jumping excitedly from his seat, grinning widely at you when you whipped your head to his direction, making direct eye contact with him.

Then it dawned on you.. the answer to all of your questions.

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

[alexanderlightweight]

You know what I rarely see? In the show after wooing Alec, Magnus is not shown as overly invested and it always appears as Alec reaching/apologizing/moving the pair along. Which was definitely a writing/directing choice. But what I’d like to prompt if it suits you, is Magnus being the one to apologize or to reassure Alec that he is important and not temporary-I’m team immortal but this convo certainly should happen. I liked the way you had Alec be angry in that prompt fill about his birthday and Magnus had to own up to that. If this isn’t your thing no big deal! Hope the weather is nice where you are and nightshade has enough pets and treats for the day!

i believe in 'no partner is perfect' and while i don't tend to write the angstier couple stuff 'i like my malec happy' i don't mind occasionally dipping my toes into partner angst (with an immortal happy ending)

this particular fic isn't about about immortality but it's about haing two people who have fundamentally different lifestyles having a miscommunication that devolves and while the argument is based on the show scene, it doesn't follow it perfectly. nor is the actual argument written. just the aftermath.

my thoughts are that magnus tries to spoil alec in season two still but it's more intimate and offscreen and he sort of in season 3a but magnus relies heavily n his magic to spoil alec and he kind of is spiraling all of season 3 tbh. they just really were sprinkling angst on malec like it was salt and they realized the show was bland.

all they did was get oversalted content which got salty fans, since they forgot to add actual herbs and spices.

it's a bloody hot day okay. i love the sun as much -nevermind apparently this is a lie-

so i don't hate the sun okay. i enjoy sunshine in specific environments. the sun is not a tyrant devoid of compassion.

anyways i live in a desert because its whats best for the people i love but give me mist and foggy days and give me winters of waist deep snow i can fall in. oceans so cold your lips go blue and rivers so deep and clear and still cold with melting ice.

if people are going to send me 8-10 feet to the bottom of the lake because they lost their electronics. it better be cold and clear. not warm and murky. (this has only happened 3 times but i have a preference).

So I made Say breakfast and nightshade breakfast and then I made @saeths breakfast a few hours later so i made an extra egg for nightshade to tempt him to eat another bowl of kibble.

so i fed nightshade twice and forgot to make any eggs for myself ^_^ so he is plenty spoiled (don't worry his egg was made without cheese and salt).

also the reason i'm awake is because he needed snuggles and after that he wanted to play in the pool and then i was too awake to bother

but that's our wednesday so far and i'm getting my work out of the way so i can focus on writing and house things.

<3 lumine

-

Magnus is ready with another quick retort when Alec’s face goes blank for a moment.

The argument fades from Magnus’ mind in an instant, because while this is the perfect moment to land another barb, the words die and his sentence stops, ending with a snide comment he doesn’t really mean.

“That’s fine Magnus.” Alec says and he’s not angry, which is worse. He sounds tired and yet professional. His manner restrained and placating in the way he does when he no longer has any fight left and he just wants to retreat and lick his wounds.

Wounds that Magnus caused.

“Alexander—” Magnus starts, because he didn’t intend to get so upset but Alexander just shakes his head.

“You’ve said your piece, Magnus. I get it.” Alexander sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he shuffles. “I messed up, again.”

Magnus winces, because he’s begun to feel more like a scolding mentor than a partner.

“I need to get to the Institute—” which makes sense, the argument started as they both got ready for their days. “I’ll—” and Alec hesitates and then shrugs, “I’ll see you tonight.”

—

Magnus waits until it’s dinner time and then portals to the Institute, already preparing words to once again explain that it’s not Alexander, it’s just not time yet.

He opens the door to the office without knocking and steps in.

“Alexander—” Magnus starts and then he hesitates.

Because for once, Alexander’s eyes don’t soften when they meet his. They remain cold, devoid of the warm ardor they normally contain but once again, without anger. Only an empty tiredness that Magnus longs to chase away.

“Do you have an appointment today, Magnus?” Alexander asks, setting down his pen and turning off his tablet with a sigh. Even upset Alexander will still give him his full attention and Magnus steps closer to the desk when Alexander continues, “because I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for a meal, or a conversation if it’s not official. So, if you don’t have an appointment, it needs to wait until I’m off.”

Alexander doesn’t mention coming home like he normally does, and Magnus suddenly misses it, with a deep lonely ache.

It also reminds Magnus that despite how often Alexander drops everything to join him, his boy is being worked to the ground and also driving himself to his limits in his pursuit of building a better Institute. Alexander is struggling to create ties between an Institute and local downworld leaders that would be revolutionary, with a sincerity that is unmatched by anything Magnus has ever seen.

Of course, he’s exhausted, and Magnus feels hollow now, remembering their fight all over again with a new clarity.

“No darling, it’s nothing official. I’ll see you tonight—” Magnus pauses, wanting to offer to summon Alec something to eat or drink, but it feels too much like an emotional bribe with how shuttered his boy is. Alexander nods and gives him the same perfunctory, polite smile he gives his siblings when he’s too exhausted to deal with them and doesn’t know what else to do.

It cuts Magnus to the heart to have that same expression directed at him, when he’s supposed to be safe for Alexander.

Magnus can’t handle the idea of reaching out only to be shied away from, so he runs from the possibility and instead summons a tiny flower to land by Alexander’s pen when the door shuts.

No one in the Institute seems to notice anything is wrong. Magnus gets a few strange looks, but he quickly realizes that it’s because everyone expected Alexander to be leaving with him, like his boy usually does.

Magnus feels cold and it’s with determination that he sends out an emergency message.

—

“I became stagnant in my old, single age.” Magnus bemoans, “I spent so long on my heartbreak that now, with a man I adore over every living being, I keep pushing him away.”

“Truth potion?” Catarina offers but Magnus shakes his head. Alexander deserves Magnus explaining this without the aid of something to help his thoughts form, even if it’s a trick Magnus has used continually and without remorse on himself.

This is different though because Magnus wants to become aware of what is wrong, not rely on a potion to figure it out.

“He wants to move in.” Magnus starts, about to launch into it when Cat laughs, interrupting him.

“What do you mean he wants to, he already has. Or did you just move him in on the sly and forget to ask him if he wanted to?”

“Cat—” Magnus says hesitantly, “he’s never moved in. He’s the one who brought it up. I told him no.”

Catarina pauses and then she sighs, and she summons her favorite, light summer beer and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Start from the beginning, Magnus. I need details.”

Magnus does, realizing things that he missed as he’s explaining so many details that he just assumed and took for granted.

“I did wonder that the Loft hasn’t changed much. It seems more like Alec’s an addition to your things rather than his own person.”

It’s that comment that drives Magnus into a frenzy the moment he’s home.

Magnus doesn’t go overboard; Alexander wouldn’t want him to. Also springing this on his boy after the prior rejection will be too much like whiplash.

So, Magnus starts very small.

He finally creates the foyer he promised himself and Alexander he would make.

Alexander’s never pushed but Magnus remembers the tightening of his shoulders and the way Alexander will be too tired for anything but cuddles — rarely even hungry — after barrages of people through the loft.

The kitchen he only summons when Alexander asks, which is rare, so he makes it a permanent fixture and makes sure to hang an apron with little angel wings up. It’s with a pained smile that he sighs and wonders when he got so old that he forgot to enjoy life, and instead spent all his time focused on the past, just like Ragnor always warned him about.

Magnus doesn’t want to regret any time with Alexander, and he finds that he already does.

Not the time spent with his boy, but the time he could have focused on him more.

Magnus has spent so long protecting himself from losing Alexander, that he hasn’t noticed that he’s pushing him away, stopping him from coming too close.

Except Magnus has also bound him tightly.

Alexander sleeps more often in Magnus’ bed than his own. He’s rerouted his own schedule so he can take the last patrol before shift change, come to Magnus’ loft, write his report there and send it in, and be in bed for Magnus to return to.

Except for work, Alexander spends the majority of his daily life either in the loft, or with Magnus.

There are signs of him, all over the loft, but Magnus can’t look at a single piece and think, “Alexander picked that out.”

It aches in way that is almost visceral, because now that Alexander isn’t here, it’s only more obvious.

Magnus is chest deep in a drawer when he becomes aware of his boy stepping slowly into the bedroom.

“Is this a bad time?” Alexander’s tired voice asks. “I noticed there was a new door and tried to knock but the door just opened.”

Magnus wants to say something except he’s furious with himself and everything and the idea that Alexander saw a new door and knocked instead of walking right in, tears something in him.

They stare at each other for a moment, Magnus with his hands still wrist deep in the dimensional dresser, sure he’ll eventually find more than the sparse offering of Alexander’s clothes that he has.

“Where are all the clothes that you leave here?” Magnus asks instead of answering because he genuinely doesn’t know, “I was cleaning, and I couldn’t find them.”

Alexander sighs and Magnus just knows that he’s gearing himself up to — once again — explain to Magnus that it’s not about the clothes, before his boy visibly gets too tired. Instead, he just shrugs and potions to the paltry pile that Magnus has found.

“You have more than that!” Magnus exclaims, frustrated because he knows Alexander does. “That green shirt I got you that you loved. And those pants, the black ones with the umber stitching. The cream sweater I adore you in! That suit I had tailored for you in Milan and the other one in Hong Kong.”

Alexander sighs and he rubs a hand over his face, the stubble he normally shaves away in Magnus— in their bathroom, shadowing his face.

“Magnus, those don’t exist anymore.” Alexander doesn’t seem upset, if anything his face softens into an almost reluctant fondness, “you tend to vanish all the clothing you get me, some way or another. Mostly before fucking me. I tried to ask you one time where they went and you waved a hand and said, ‘another dimension, nothing to worry about’.”

“Surely that’s not all I said.” Magnus protests weakly.

“Well, you proceeded to fuck me unconscious so no, it wasn’t the last thing you said. But it was the last thing you said abut clothes.”

Magnus gives a flat chuckle and then sighs, snapping his fingers to clean up the mess.

“Have you eaten?”

“I figured I could grab something from the cafeteria when I head back. It’s fine.”

It most certainly is not fine, but Magnus doesn’t think coaxing Alexander into eating is going to work this time, which means that Magnus has accidentally undone weeks of effort.

Magnus doesn’t press, doesn’t remind Alexander that he can here. Or that, if by normal standards Alexander stays until he usually leaves Magnus, it would be the early evening of the next day.

“So, you were cleaning.”

Alexander is looking around, voice faltering but face devoid of actual emotions.

“I realized some things, after this afternoon.” Magnus admits slowly, “you’re the first person I opened my heart to, Alexander. In a very long time, I’ve told you that before.”

Normally, explaining things is easier but all Magnus can think is he’s not explaining it correctly.

“I know. But Magnus, you’re the first person I’ve ever opened my heart to.” Alexander interjects and he sounds raw and broken, like he’s been torn apart. “Doesn’t that get to mean anything too, to you? Because I don’t know what I’m doing, and you told me that there was nothing wrong with that. That I had nothing to feel ashamed about but now, it doesn’t feel like that.

"It feels like I can’t do anything right and I thought, I hoped something was coming together with us but now—” Alexander gives a heavy sigh and shrugs. “Now I don’t even know what I am to you anymore. Where do I belong, in your life Magnus? If you tell me where to fit, I’ll make it work.”

And that breaks Magnus’ heart, because Alexander was never meant to feel like he had to cut off pieces of himself to ensure Magnus loves him, that he has a place in Magnus’ life.

“Oh darling, beloved.” He murmurs and Alexander flinches, like it was a knife to his side. “You belong. The entirety of you. You belong in my bed because it’s no longer just my bed. How can I say it’s my bed when I lay in it without you and can’t sleep? When I reach for you in the night and can’t find you?” Magnus moves across the room with slow, purposeful steps and then reaches out to carefully — only because Alexander allows it — cups his face.

“Alexander, I have no excuses. My heart is old, and it is scarred and it is a wonder that you love me with all the cracks you’ve seen exposed. I don’t fear men or demons or angels, Alexander. I fear my heart being torn from my body and leaving me alive, an empty hollow cavern where it should be in the shape of you.

“I’ve always been too much, Alexander. I put my own fears on you, not that you deserved any of it, sweetheart. You’re right. I am your first relationship, and you grew up and live in a shadowhunter society. The relationships you've witnessed aren't similar to ours at all.

"You trust me to guide our relationship but I’m always encouraging you to ask me for things and you rarely do. I’m sorry, that you finally trusted me enough to ask me for something and that I broke that trust.”

And Alexander breaks, his eyes filling with tears and he coughs, scrubbing over his eyes because he hates being emotional during talks like these. As if Magnus will use the crystal sorrow streaking his face against him.

“I don’t understand.” Alexander murmurs against Magnus’ shoulder, “I thought this was already my home, here with you. I don’t know what I did wrong, I’m sorry Magnus.”

“Oh sayang.” Magnus whispers, eyes stinging because his heart is lanced every time Alexander apologizes. “You did nothing wrong. My heart was too scared to admit that you already were home for us, I pushed you away because I panicked. I’m sorry, my darling.”

Magnus is as tender and sincere as he can be, because he doesn’t want Alexander internalizing anything over this. Especially not when he realized that for Alexander, the loft already was home and he just wanted permission, for it to be official.

It’s endearing and sweet and Magnus presses a kiss to Alexander’s temple, softly and then harder when Alexander pushes into the caress.

"This is already your home. Where ever I am, will be your home." Magnus promises, "that will never change, my love. This is our space, for us to grow together and live together in.

Instead, Alexander tackles him to the bed and just lays there, pinning Magnus to the comforter as he snuggles into Magnus.

"Alexander?"

There is no answer, just a soft, exhausted snuffle and Magnus wonders how upset Alexander's been, thinking he was deprived of the home Magnus gave him.

He uses magic to change their clothing. More conversations and decisions can be made after rest and well, Alexander certainly isn't going anywhere and neither is Magnus.

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (final)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim, and that includes obliterating the blurred lines between him and Eve.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.7k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); unprotected sex

Note: i know i've made you guys as frustrated as Martin in the gif above so i'm putting you out of misery (#spoiler) and i hope you guys forgive me lolol but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. oh, and i'm changing the term solstrålen into solskinn (including in the prev parts) bcs it turned out google search failed me, thanks @multifamdomfan12 for correcting me! &lt;3

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc @laurensficrecs @soccerwag9 <3<3

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“I expect to see you again soon, dear Eve,” was the last words Martin’s mother muttered before she and the rest of the family boarded the car Martin had chartered to get them to the nearest tarmac.

With the glint on her eyes, Martin knew her mother meant what she said and he, frankly enough, didn’t think he’d be ready to face the day he had to break the news to her mother that Eve and him were no longer happening. Her mother seemed so delighted with Eve, utterly wishing deep down that Eve was already a part of their family by some sort of extension called marriage.

Doors were closed behind Eve, and suddenly Martin’s house was too humongous for the two of them. Instead of appreciating the big space, Eve hated the way the hollow silence that followed after. It was suffocating, to say the least, and Eve wanted to run away as soon as possible.

Martin noticed the uncomfortable shift Eve played between her right and left legs, indicating she was in an awkward situation, and Martin already hated the fact he needed to have a legit justification to have her in his arms without any fight.

To have her in his arms like they still had someone else to impress, but without having to put up the act.

But who was he to wish upon the stars when the object of all his desires repelled him the way mosquitoes repelled the hazardous substance men made to annihilate them?

Who was he to wish something too futile to happen?

“Let me get the car keys—”

“No need, Martin,” Eve wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around the living room in search for her totebag. “I can go home by myself.”

“Out of the question, Angel—”

“You should drop the pet name now,” Eve’s stern tone stopped Martin on his track. To say he was surprised was an understatement, and he wished he’d never seen the exasperated look in her eyes, for it was laced variously with emotions he’d rather not name. “No one’s around. No need to put up an act.”

“But…” At Eve’s outburst, Martin didn’t realise his arms fell helplessly on his sides. “That’s your name.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not what I’m talking about.”

For several, intense moments, neither of them did anything but to hold each other’s stare.

“Fine, Eve. Have it your way,” Martin finally conceded to the pressure because if there was one thing he couldn’t do well was holding grudges. Put Eve as the subject and Martin would be fucked twice over. “But you should let me explain something in return.”

An eye for an eye, Eve realised was what Martin’s modus operandi, so she nodded. Anything to get this agony done and over with, anything to free her of him. Her body and soul couldn’t take anymore of Martin she somehow fell in love with in the midst of this whole charade, knowing that version of Martin never existed in the first place.

“What is it?” She said as she looked up slowly to meet the oceanic blue eyes she had grown accustomed to, but she never expected those magical orbs to be right in front of her in a flash of a moment like a lightning struck.

Before she could register on anything, Eve felt the plush cushion of his lips closing down on hers, sealing her voice box from the world with a surge of desperation lingering in the upper and lower parts of his lips, and she was scared of what he asked of her behind the kiss.

She was afraid of what he asked of her, as he goaded her parted lips for a further access to the mouth he’d always loved for saying all the right and wrong things that made Eve as she was now. The smart, the funny, the witty Eve.

She was terrified of what he asked of her, as she lost herself in the mortifying pleasure of having him traced the inside of her cavern with his tongue while tracing the curves outside with his hands, and before she knew it herself, he’d pinned her into the nearest wall, his hands holding hers up in a lock on top of her head.

She was frightened that, despite her fastened hands, she felt liberated this time around—and maybe Martin had liberated them both with the kiss—because everything felt so right in this moment.

Because while she was now familiar with his lips on hers now, Martin had never poured his body and soul and everything of his existence into a kiss. This was new, and this was raw, and Eve was so overwhelmed by the sensation because only now did she realise this was Martin—all of him, bared to her, desperate to cling on whatever’s left of her that he’d come to love.

This was real.

“Ask me something I never do.”

Eve gasped as she felt the pad of Martin’s thumb wiped away a streak of tear running down her face. She really should tell Martin it was out of happiness now. “Martin—”

“Ask, Angel.”

Another trail of waterworks escaped Eve as Martin’s eyes stared down at her intently, yet somehow so… forlorn. She never wished any of this to happen to either of them, least Martin of all people—the one who’d brought back her dignity the night of Christmas Gala. “What’s something you never do, Martin?”

“I never pretend when I’m around you,” Martin whispered the words against the pair of lips he’d come to love so much, for both the taste and the sensation that came with it, and Eve could feel the desperation lingered in the small space of air between them; of not being able to kiss her, not before she understood his points of elaboration, not before she had all her questions answered. “I’ve always kissed you the way I want to, having audience or not. I don’t care if anyone else sees us or it’s only between us just like right now.”

“But you’re pretending to be my boyfriend at the—”

“You think I was pretending but I never say anything about me pretending from the beginning, Angel,” His eyes reflected immense anguish, yet his words resonated with truth and determination, and Eve’s head was spinning beyond belief. “So I never have. Everything I do whenever I’m with you is within my purest intention and everything I say to you is my outmost honesty.”

It took Eve a full 5 seconds to digest everything, thanks to Martin’s intoxicating scent that was able to short-circuit her brain. “So the gala wasn’t a sham.”

“It never was for me, at least.”

“But it’s your idea to do that.”

“It’s my one and only crazy idea so I can get closer to you,” Martin rested his forehead on hers gently, in hope she could see what he was trying to convey; that he was tired of this charade as much as she was, especially when they were fooling themselves by denying everything that could’ve been between them. “It’s the only way I know how.”

“You used my desperation to—”

“Yes, but I don’t regret a thing,” Now Martin was truly wearing his heart on his sleeve. Eve never said about not giving a fight to him, and he’d expected that. “I don’t regret anything I do with you, and I’m sure I never will. Call me selfish but I was desperate, too, at that time so you can see me.”

Still, it hurt Martin the same every time Eve’s head moved back inches more than the distance he’d managed to claimed before. “But if you never pretend around me, you must’ve absolutely despised to see me every day.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You never reply whenever I say good morning.”

“So ask, Angel,” Martin’s hands headed south and back to cradle her face like she was a fine china—and for him, it felt that way, for how precious she was to him—and his thumb caressed out the crumpled lines between her eyebrows ever so softly. “Ask me why I never reply your good morning.”

“What?”

“Ask me why I never reply your good morning, Angel,” The Norway’s youngest captain repeated, and Eve was relieved when he reached up to her forehead to place a featherlight kiss on the same spot where her crease of confusion appeared, for she couldn’t stand another second of Martin looking down on her as if his world would end the moment she said anything that implied no to him. “No matter how much I want to give in.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to have to end with her asking the one thing she’d been dying to know but the way Martin’s lips tickled her skin and the way he inhaled the scent lingering from the shampoo she donned earlier… she’d choose this over breaking the fragile bubble they were in. “Did you hate them?”

“I abhorred them, Angel,” And there he was—Martin was back gazing down at her, and gone was the gentle but miserable captain that was hanging his sanity on a thread. He’d returned with force under his arsenal yet this time, Eve wasn’t intimidated like the last time she’d encountered this side of Martin. “I hate them because it reminds me that you treat me like everyone else,”

And Eve couldn’t hold back her stupefied gasp.

“I thought I made it obvious on my first day that I’m so… enamoured by you,” It was tragic to Eve that Martin was spewing every of these meaningful words about reality he’d been living with a smile that was anything but, and it took away her joy from the fact that this was real and she wasn’t hallucinating that she thought this was real. That she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to be real. “But you certainly think I’m just being friendly to you when in reality, it’s not it, and I hate it so much,”

And Eve vowed, as well as shooting upon the stars, that she didn’t have to see that bitter, artificial smile ever again.

She didn’t waste another breath to pull Martin down to her, capturing his lips in a deep kiss—so deep she had to close her eyes in contentment, and a sigh escaped her lips. The huffed air was Martin’s sign to ask for entrance, and she granted him the entire access to her body and soul the way he’d bared his earlier, and the clash of tongue was a rather welcomed reaction, along with the messy movements of their hands finding each other’s available exposed skin.

“Please tell me I didn’t mess up my chances with you yet,” While one hand was resting on the nape of Eve’s neck, the other one was tucking away the strands of her hair to the back of her ear. His eyes were roaming from the hair, to her eyes, to her lips, and Martin had to close the gap between them once more because he couldn’t help himself. “I’m so afraid I’ll fuck up and I lose you again before I know it.”

“Just don’t put me through such thing again.”

Eve didn’t have to open her eyes to know Martin was hiding his smile behind the smouldering look he granted her—a slight movement of his lips against the rim of hers was all it took for her—before he closed the gap between them with nips on the corners of her lips, the cupid bow, her nose, and finally landed perfectly back on the middle of her lips, claiming the gate of his existence once more like he never left her bereft.

And to be graced by the silent proclaim was Eve’s honour, for she had never felt an abundance of emotion from deep within of one’s self unlike any other from Martin. Should anyone catch them in their current position, it would be palpable for anyone to see that Eve was close to liquefying herself into a shape only Martin could mould of her, in only ways Martin could forge. Her lips were beyond repairable from the nibbles left on the trail every time the blonde man changed his course to devour her to the very last taste, her garments were beyond salvaging from the harsh movements that reminded her of the captain’s passion on the pitch and yet she welcomed the crude touches full of desperation on her skin.

She was exposed for anyone nearby to see, being the most daring she’d ever been in presence of someone else and her mirror at home, yet she felt so secluded and secured in Martin’s arms, for his body engulfed hers in ways she knew he wouldn’t compromise her dignity—to anyone, even to him.

Her head was busy configuring as to how Martin could orchestrate everything she was feeling like it was second skin to him but she should’ve known better. The moment she lost herself into his touches and was only brought to Earth when his hands grazed her bosom and only teasingly passed by the core of her heat, just to settle one of her leg on his waist, that Martin Ødegaard was truly living up his moniker of the maestro.

No one could’ve played her frustrations down to being close to a string left like he could, no one would’ve played the sanity she was hanging by a thread the way Martin did, and managed to get away with it unscathed of wrath. Yet, Eve was nothing but a puddle of mess under his subtle dominant.

“Martin, please…”

Her moans, masked by broken gasps, were enough for Martin to take her away from the poor plastered wall. Not because he didn’t want to take her against the wall—partly because he wanted only the best for her, partly because there was another time for that—but because he knew if they’d become undone right here, right there, he wouldn’t have the energy to hold them together. He knew they’d be sensational together, conjoined in the hips and lower in an earth-shatteringly manner, and he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, despite being an athlete.

And he knew, as he lied her against the white faux material of the rug he’d immaculately placed in front of the fire place in this wintry weather, with the faint yellow glow casted on her face and her refined, soft silks of hair strands behind her, that his decision was proven better than he thought it would be.

Eve had never looked so ethereal, and he couldn’t believe this goddess-like being was now captured under him, helpless against the arms locking her sides—his angel, his fallen angel.

“Hello there, my angel,” Martin peered down at her, nuzzling his nose against hers, and Martin Ødegaard was unequivocally enraptured by the bedazzling smile she granted him at the gentle gesture, and he hadn’t even begun the ministration of what he had in mind. “You fit perfectly in my arms,”

And he was truly a goner by the way she was giggling—how much he’d been missing that gleeful sound without the constraint of a mere fake couple play between them—as he settled his nose deeper to the crook of her neck, sniffing Eve’s signature parfum she liked to spray along the length of her neck, while his fingers ran down the outer sides of her arms. The ticklish feeling was what probably enticed the melodious sound of her carefree laugh, her true carefree laugh, not the one he was used to hearing paraded around the London Colney for mere courtesy.

But Martin was something else altogether when Eve let out unrestricted whines as his nose and lips pursued the track downwards, from the neck to the open space of her chest, against the space between her ample breast, on the small space under the mound, across her ribcage. So uncalled for, especially for the effects those sinful sounds imposed on his cock. So dirty, so disgusting, yet he yearned for more.

Thus, explaining his bold move further down south.

Just as he was peppering kisses against the inner parts of her thighs, Eve arched in the ways that could put half-moon to shame, with her agape mouth and breathless pants as her hands were practically flailing to find the most stable ground to help herself, only to end up with plucking the faux material with one hand and another one gripping his shirt for life.

She sat up at the sudden realisation Martin was yet discarded from his clothes, and he stopped his deliverance at her movement. “What’s wrong?”

Eve didn’t say anything verbally but her hands lifting up the colour that complimented his skin very well said it all. Martin halted her rushing hands effectively, like he did hers when they were pushed up against the wall a bazillion years ago. “Oh no, my love. Tonight’s about you.”

Eve couldn’t hide the shivers that ran down all over the body at both the newfound nickname—and she loved being called by nicknames Martin found suitable for her—and the intonation he used to cover his obvious intention.

Martin sat back up on his knees, and the sight of him shedding his shirt was certainly something that would haunt her for days and days after today, especially when he had to be away for his job. Realising Eve was ogling at him, Martin laughed unreservedly for the first time since the both of them scrapped off the last bits of their shitty acting withstanding.

“Oh, shut up, Martin,” and the man could certainly get used to being pulled down by the woman who’d never vanished from the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to erase her. She kissed the way she looked; sun-blazingly hot with passion and fierceness like she wouldn’t see the light of the day tomorrow, and he could feel the last restrain of himself melted away as her hands travelled down his chest, his ribs, his well-built abdomen.

“I like this,” Eve traced down the sixpack line stretched across his midriff, her movement so gentle yet it constricted the muscle tighter than the workout machines at the gym. “Don’t show it off to anyone else.”

“Say you’re mine and it’s all yours to see, Angel,” Eve looked up to the man towering her, covering her against the moon wanting to peek at the moment they’d been dying to have, and Martin almost came undone at how innocent she looked, face held in his hands, in contrast to how devious her fingers were at. “It’s always been you.”

Eve didn’t need further reassurance to pull him down to her, crashing their lips together in ways that reminded her of waves crashing against the solid rock on the edge of the ocean. His lips were showering her with cold water against the warmth of hers, and hers were pouring him calmness against the sun. Yin and yang found each other, at last, and they both moaned at the sensation the both of them had been liberated at best from whatever holding them down.

They were floating on the rough waters, so high in each other’s frustrated and desperate kisses to find solace in each other’s undone, but nothing could compare to the moment the lovers were fully, entirely intertwined with each other. Eve felt so full of Martin, and she wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Martin had to control his breath, just as what his trainers told him to do on the pitch ironically enough, as he felt Eve welcoming him with the warmest hug he could ever receive from someone, both inside and out. He couldn’t help himself but pull her closer to him, flushed against him, every air making their way in between them was something he considered a disturbance.

“Oh, Martin,” Her breathing was ragged, so did Martin’s, and it pushed Martin to drive her closer to the edge. “You feel so good against me.”

At her words, he went the deepest he could plunge himself into the sweetest hellhole that was Eve, and her body went tighter, inside and out he could see veins almost bulging out against her temple. She was halfway there; he could see it in her gaze, in what he could make out of her extremely flushed cheeks. Who was he to grant delayed gratification to her?

“Say you’re mine, mitt solskinn,” One touch against the swollen, pretty clit of hers, and she slowly peaking her highs. She was so beautiful, chasing her release under his touch as he pounded himself into her relentlessly for his own end, despite the dirty, slick mess she was making against his hands. She panted his name like a prayer, and it delighted him to no end that he was the only one who could provoke such a sensuous siren. “No more denying between us, Angel.”

“I’m yours, Martin Ødegaard,” and he felt that down to the bones as he’d reached his high at her words, like the passcode to his own ending, and as the morning came lazily upon them, he’d never felt as whole as that moment. Although he’d had Eve in his arms countless times before, because he now knew that despite the stormy weather outside, he’d always have his sunshine shining brightly in his arms, beaming radiantly as she whispered, good morning, baby.

Martin didn’t have anything else to respond her but to give her the same blinding smile—the biggest he could muster, anyway, which was still pale in comparison to the force in his arms, settling well like a little spoon she was.

“You really lost against me.”

The once-wonderkid could only laugh at her comment. You could count on Eve for her smart mouth. “Well, if this is what losing feels like, I really don’t mind at all.”

“That’s it?” Eve had to pull her head back from the tight cocoon they were sharing, and she absolutely wouldn’t complain to wake up to those clear blue Nordic eyes every day. “Where does your whole athlete competitiveness go?”

“You feel like my biggest victory anyway.”

Because sunshine has become Eve.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊THE END＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

and that concludes my first ever (mini) series! wow, i didn't think this was possible in any way so thank you, to each and every single one of you, who's spared your time to read the entire series and even left comments on the posts. i hope i didn't disappoint you midway or in anyway. bcs really, if i could hug you guys rn, i would so i'm just gonna send loves to you guys ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and see you on the next one!

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Oh, I love spring.” Lance’s voice is soft, breathy, sighing. He veers off the path, heading towards one of the campus’ many gardens. “Everything’s just so hopeful, y’know? And the hills — they get coated in little springs of gold. It’s beautiful.”

“It snowed yesterday,” Keith deadpans, but joins Lance in looking at the blooming flowers anyway.

Lance rolls his dark eyes at him fondly. “For, like, twenty seconds!”

“Snow, Lance. In April. Disgusting.”

“Yeah, yeah, party pooper.” He leans in close to a yellow pansy, inhaling deeply. The slightest of smiles pulls at his lips, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyes close in serenity. Freckles sprinkle over his nose and cheekbones, darker now that the sun is starting to shine brighter.

Keith has to shake himself out of staring like a fool. Even then it’s no easy feat — Lance is ethereal, in the spring sunshine, surrounded by budding flowers and melting snow.

Keith clears his throat, ears a little red. “I thought you were more of a summer person,” he says, a little loudly, a little telling.

“I do love the summer, Lance agrees, inhaling one more time before straightening up. He turns the full power of his smile towards Keith — Lord help him — and takes a step away from the garden. “But there’s just something about the flowers, I guess. Something about so many colours finally blooming after the endless grey of winter, y’know?”

Keith snorts. “Right, Shakespeare.”

“I’m going to take that as the compliment it is, you butthead. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah.” Keith pauses, glancing back at the flowers. He thinks of Lance’s soft look as he smelled them. He thinks of how badly he wants to see Lance look like that again. “Why don’t you bring a couple flowers back to your dorm?”

Lance glances back at the flowers. For a minute Keith thinks he’s going to pick a couple, but then he’s shaking his head. “Nah.” He chuckles a little, scratching the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “It’s stupid, but I get genuinely upset when flowers die? I used to pick them all the time as a kid and then cry when they started to droop. I never really grew out of it, I guess. Embarrassing, huh?”

Oh my God, that is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, Keith thinks, screaming internally.

“A little,” Keith teases instead. Lance gasps exaggeratedly, clasping his hand to his heart in mock offense.

“Why, I never!”

The two of them joke and tease their way to the dining hall, only getting worse as they meet up with the rest of their friends. They devolve into ridiculous chaos almost immediately, as they usually do — Pidge barely catches sight of Lance before she starts some ridiculous argument over the dorky video game they’re both obsessed with, and then the rest of them choose sides just for the drama of it all — but honestly? Keith’s heart’s not in it. All he can think of is Lance’s slight smile as he smelled the flower, and the barest hint of sadness Keith saw flash through his dark brown eyes when he stepped away from them.

Keith is going to get Lance his flowers, and flowers that won’t die on him. He will.

Anything to get that smile on his face again.

———

“Keith, it’s four in the goddamn morning.”

“Allura if you help me I’ll get you those caf cookies you like every day for a month.”

That gives her pause. “The coffee caramel one? That’s always gone before I get up?”

“Yep,” Keith says, grinning despite his frustration. Got her. Allura would do anything short of human sacrifice to get those cookies.

“…Make it two months.”

“What?” Keith protests immediately. “That’s sixty whole days!”

“I’m getting more and more tired by the second, Gyeong.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ll get your cookie, you tyrant.”

She hums. There’s a creaking noise in the background, like she’s shuffling around, then the unmistakable sound of a thump and muffled cursing.

Keith shoves his knuckles into his mouth to keep from cackling. “Did you fall, you dumbass?”

“Fuck off. Mention it again and the deal is off.”

“Alright, alright,” Keith says,holding up his hands in surrender even though she can’t see it. (One can never be too sure with Allura. Sometimes it’s like she’s a fuckin’ witch, or something. She knows all.)

“Anyways, dorkus. Why’d you call me in the dead of the fucking night?”

Keith sobers quickly, frustration building back up when he catches a glance at his supplies. He takes a deep breath. “So, you know how you’re an art major?”

There’s a beat of incredulous silence. Keith can feel her judgey look through the phone.

“No, that’s news to me, actually. Must have missed that memo on my way to class this morning.”

“Oh, piss off. You know what I meant.”

She snorts, but answers anyway. “Yes, Keith. I am aware that I’m an art major. I take it to mean you need some artistic advice?”

“Yeah,” Keith confirms. He holds up one of the canvases he’s been working on, frowning deeply. “So, I have this…project. I need to paint a really, really good — almost perfect, honestly — picture of a flower. No, a bouquet of flowers. Yeah. And —”

“You,” Allura interrupts slowly, “a physics major.”

There’s a long moment of silence — incredulous on Allura’s end, panicked on Keith’s.

“You need to paint a flower? For a grade?”

“I’m…applying the physical sciences of viscous fluids acting upon a dry powdered surface such as canvas,” Keith lies hastily. “Yeah. Lots of science in painting, you know.”

That’s a pretty decent excuse, if Keith says so himself. And he does! He’s found that if he just throws out enough science words into one sentence, and uses the words ‘acting upon’ at least once, then people usually just go along with it. It has yet to fail on him before, at least.

“This is about Lance, isn’t it.”

Of fucking course Allura’s annoyingly smart ass can see right through him.

Keith scoffs. And then he scoffs again, and again, and every time it sounds just a touch more hysterical. “Ha! I don’t — ha! How ridiculous! Me, painting a picture of a flower for Lance, because he gets sad when cut flowers die! I would never — preposterous! Outlandish! Unbelievable, even! I —”

“You just let me know when you’re done,” Allura drawls.

Keith sputters. “I — you! What!”

“Look,” she says, faux-gently. “Please take full offense to this.”

“I probably will,” Keith grumbles. Allura has no problem plowing right on.

“There is not a soul on this campus who isn’t well aware that you are atrociously down bad for Lance.”

“I — yes there is! That’s fuckin’ — private information! How do you know that?!”

“You look at him like he’s the sun, dude. It’s as sweet as it is sickening, truly.”

Keith wants to fight that. He does. He’s kept his feelings for Lance under lock and key, thanks. Allura is talking out of her ass.

But then he looks down at his canvas and half-finished painting, and —

Oh.

Well.

“…Okay,” Keith admits, cheeks flaming. “So I get a little moon-eyed occasionally. Can you blame me?”

Allura chuckles. “No. Lance is cute as hell. You’re lucky I’m a lesbian or you would have some serious competition with that boy, let me tell you.”

“Thank Thor for that, then.”

“Damn right. Anyway. Details, Horatio. You’re painting him a flower?”

Keith sighs. He knows it’s incriminating as hell, but he truly can’t help himself. “Yeah. We were looking at flowers a couple days ago, and he was just so happy to see them, y’know? I suggested he should bring a couple back to his dorm but he said he got sad when they died, so. I’m painting him some that won’t die.”

“That is the gayest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

Keith flushes. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. Can you help me or not?”

“Well, I won’t be painting it for you.”

“I know that! I just — I don’t know what I’m doing, ‘Llura. How the hell do I shape it right? What’s the deal with shading? How come half the colours look smudgy and brush hairs keep getting stuck in the paint? What —”

“Alright, deep breath,” Allura interjects. Keith listens. “Good.” Her voice softens. “He’s gonna love it, y’know? He loves you just as much as you love him — and don’t give me that ‘what if he doesn’t like me back’ shit,” she scolds, before he can protest. “Okay? He’s one of your closest friends. He’s going to appreciate the gesture regardless.”

“I know,” Keith says, exhaling deeply. “I know. But still. Help me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

———

Keith takes a deep breath, glancing down at the gift bag he’s holding. It’s not too late, really. He can ding dong ditch. That way Lance can get the painting — and the stupid sappy letter Keith wrote him — and Keith can avoid the whole mortifying ordeal of being known or whatever.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. He can confess his undying love another time, right? Lance doesn’t need to know now. Keith can suffer in silence. He’s gone this far —

“Keith! Hi! I tried to wait for you to know but you took too long. Come in!”

Lance beams at him, dorm room door opened wide, stepping to the side to usher Keith in.

Curse him and his stupid bat ears. Of course he heard Keith’s heartbeat through the door, or something.

“Hey, Lance.” He accepts Lance hug, squeezing tightly and inhaling smell of sunscreen and lavender.

The smell makes him brave, makes him bold.

“I, uh, I brought you something.”

Lance’s grin only gets wider. “I was hoping that was for me.” He makes grabby hands towards the bag. “Gimme!”

It will be fine, it will be fine, it will be fine, Keith chants to himself as Lance tosses the decorative paper — ‘decorative paper’ being old homework because Keith has no idea where the hell he’s supposed to buy fancy gift paper — behind him, digging into the bag. He stills as he pulls out the canvas. He’s absolutely silent as he looks at it, face completely blank.

Keith cracks.

“I know it’s kind of ugly. I mean, I tried, and Allura tried to help, but I’m kind of a hopeless painter —”

Lance still makes no face, long fingers just tracing the bulky painting.

“— I tried to use your favourite colours! The blue and the red and the purple —”

Lance makes a choked noise. Keith can’t tell if it’s good or not; and it makes him a great deal more frantic.

“—peonies are your favourite, right? And you like dandelions too so I thought —”

“Keith,” Lance finally says, hoarse and quiet. “I —”

“There’s a letter, too, and — oh.” The letter is clasped tightly in Lance’s hand. “You’ve already read it. Cool. Awesome. It’s —”

“Keith —”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, right? I mean —”

“Keith —”

Keith forces himself to breathe properly. He is not successful. He’s not quite hyperventilating, but by God he is on his way.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll just dip and you text me whenever —”

“Keith!” Lance shouts. “I’m going to kiss you now. On the mouth.”

By the time that sentence registers in Keith’s brain, sunshine and lavender overwhelms his senses, soft, smooth lips pressed insistently to his. Lance’s cool fingers press the sides of his neck, a gentle but insistent pressure.

“Oh,” Keith breathes.

“I love you too, dumbass,” Lance whispers against his lips. “God I love you.“

“That’s — okay.”

He feels Lance’s smile.

Because it is pressed. Against his lips.

Holy shit.

“That’s okay?“ “Yeah. Yeah. I — love you too. Lots.”

Lance laughs. “Enough to hand paint me flowers that will never die.” He presses another kiss to Keith’s lips.

It feels like springtime.

———

based on this post

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.121 Fake

As I spoke with Dad, I noticed my guests dipping into the kitchen and getting our leftovers out of the fridge, so I excused myself to go make a proper meal, noting I should prepare food before our next party. Finding a dish that satisfied Sophia's lactose intolerance and Dad's vegetarianism proved challenging, so I went to the internet to help me. I found an interesting vegetable stew called Three Sisters that fit the bill, so I made that on the grill, hoping to entice everyone to come outside. I thought about Dub as I chopped veggies and added them into the pot. How was everything going with him and Maia? He should be here with the rest of my friends, but I chose not to invite him and felt very guilty about it. I didn't feel right about leaving him out of our struggles and then pop up out of nowhere with a party invite. Maia should have been about ready to pop by then, so they probably couldn't come anyway. She may have already given birth, and they're dealing with a demanding newborn right now. I could say that was my assumption if he got upset, but I needed to tell him the truth. He trusted me with something, so I needed to do the same.

My stew was looking pretty good and smelled even more amazing. Sauteed onions, peppers, and garlic were one of my favorite smells, but adding the sweetness of butternut squash was enough to make my mouth water. Maira found me as I sprinkled a little cilantro on top.

"Hey! Can you try this and make sure it tastes okay?" I asked.

"Sure. What is it?"

"It's a vegetarian stew."

She raised the spoon to her nose and sniffed.

"Hmmm...that smells wonderful."

Finally she puts it in her mouth, and her soft moans give me the answer I needed. Maira wasn't exactly Ms. Sunshine, but she didn't seem to be herself. Something about her eyes tipped me off, and I felt as though she were putting on for our benefit.

"So, how've you been?" I asked.

Her eyes widened as if I had alarmed her, but after a moment she relaxed in resignation.

"Uhhhhh... Not great, honestly."

My initial reaction was to be upset about her not telling me what went on in her life, but then I thought about how I had just beat myself up over doing the same thing to Dub. Maybe the natural response to trauma was to retreat instead of reach out.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you," I said.

She snorted.

"Don't apologize for living a great life, Luca," she said, flatly.

But that was the thing. It hadn't been great, but how would she know that? Sophia and I had become masters of fake smiles and carrying on.

"So...what's going on?" I asked.

"Well...to start, my brother died and-"

"There you are," Chi Chi shouted, interrupting Maira and I. "I was wondering where you've been hiding. Your house is amazing! I always wanted to know what the inside of this one looked like. Did you renovate or is this how it looked? ..."

She went on and on and on, hammering me with questions about the house without even taking a breath. Sophia brought the portable speaker outside, placed it on the table, turned it on, and began to dance. It was one of those wedding gifts we never thought we'd use, but actually came in handy. One by one, everyone else joined us outside, and before I knew it, my moment with Maira was gone. I wanted to hold her and express my condolences, but she wiped her tears and put on a smiling face, moving on as if nothing happened. How did she do that? Death was such a big event. Maybe later I'd be able to revisit the subject. Until then, I too plastered on a smile and regaled Chi Chi.

Eventually the music drew Chi Chi away from me, and I was relieved. I'm surprised my stew was still warm and ate while everyone shook their groove things. Alessia and Sophia seemed to giggle about something, and I was so happy to see them getting along, especially since Less had been scowling and complaining all afternoon. I still felt some kind of way about knowing my friend was suffering while we were all celebrating, but seeing everyone enjoy themselves in our new home made me happy.

When Sophia had her fill of dancing, or maybe she couldn't hold her secret any longer, she called everyone inside for cake, and I lit the candles for her. She stood in front of it, looking at everyone and smiling; she was so beautiful.

"I appreciate you all being here," she said. "You're our village. If you haven't guessed by now, we're gonna welcome a little one into this village."

Gasps, cheers, and applause erupted around the table, and my heart was so full. I glanced at Mama to see how she reacted because I had previously told her she would be the first to know when we found out, but clearly I did not hold up my end of the bargain, especially when I had a prime opportunity to tell her in the kitchen. I thought maybe she'd want to strangle me, but instead, her eyes were full of tears of joy, and I was relieved. She had two grandchildren loading and was probably in shock.

Sophia continued.

"It means a lot to me personally to have so many friends and loved ones who love and support us, especially on this new road we're going down, so thank you all!"

Everyone applauded again. As she made a wish, we all made a great ruckus as we celebrated her transition into adulthood.

"Sweet llamas that's a beautiful sim," Chi Chi said. "You are one blessed man, Luca."

[maochira]

Hi Mao! Im not sure if this has been requested before but like y/n who is best friends with Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya. Sooner or later Karasu and Otoya find out that y/n has a crush on Yukimiya (who may or may not know who knows) and try to help them get together.

The platonic chemistry between these three that I see around the fandom makes me wish for a group like them because it sounds so fun.

Anyway I hope you've been having a good day and I hope u continue to have a good week ahead (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

This is my third time writing for Yukimiya and ngl I feel like I'm developing a platonic crush on him😭😭 so keep requesting stuff for him!!! Writing for him makes me giggle kicking my feet

Requests open! - current writing event - masterlist

Tags: gn!reader x Yukimiya, some sort of high school AU I guess??, you're classmates with those three

-ever since you first met Yukimiya, Karasu and Otoya, all of you became best friends pretty much immediately

-at first you only spent time with them in school, but after a few weeks Karasu started asking to hang out after school and on weekends, so you got even closer with them

-sleepovers!!! Lots of them

-most of the time you're at Karasu's place because he has the biggest room. Most of the time you watch movies or YouTube videos on his TV while you just talk

-random late night deeptalks!!

-Karasu is the first to notice you have a crush on Yukimiya. He literally notices it before you realize it by yourself

-Karasu always organizes the sleepovers in a way that'll end up with you and Yukimiya sleeping next to each other

-one morning, you wake up and the way Yukimiya is sleeping next to you, sunshine across his face makes you realize you're in love with him

-Yukimiya is the first one to return home from the sleepover, which gives you the chance to tell Karasu and Otoya about yout crush

-Karasu responds with "That's why I made you sleep next to each other" and you're like "How did you know???"

-Karasu starts listing all the small reasons why he had noticed your feelings for Yukimiya and it gets you a little embarrassed because how did Karasu realize before you did?

-Otoya didn't necessarily expect it, but he isn't surprised by it either

-they really want you to confess to Yukimiya, but you're way too scared of him rejecting you and the possibility of ruining the friendship

-Otoya and Karasu promise to not tell Yukimiya anything, but they secretly make plans together on how they can set up you and Yukimiya

-sometimes you do karaoke together, and whenever there's a love song Otoya and Karasu make you and Yukimiya sing that together. That actually happens to often, there's one specific song you don't even need the lyrics for anymore

-Yukimiya is a bit clueless about everything, but the way the others make him get closer to you, makes him develop a bit of romantic feelings for you as well, and they only continue growing over time

-your and his feelings grow over time and there's so much romantic tension between you all the time, Karasu and Otoya can barely stand keeping it to themselves. They really want to tell you to start dating already, but they don't because they've promised you that they wouldn't

-it takes TWO MONTHS until you and Yukimiya finally confess to each other and start dating

-Karasu literally throws a small party to celebrate that and (badly) decorated a storebought cake with lots of sprinkles in your and Yukimiya's favourite colours. He also wrote "Yukimiya x (Y/N)" on it with frosting

-that one love song you always sang during karaoke together??? It's your relationship song now and Yukimiya has given you a nickname based on it

[raccoonfallsharder]

✩࿐࿔ nobody fuckin hates you. [new 7/5]

fluff (smut-free) | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabble | word count: 1,231. read more on ao3 | ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | main masterlist

put away your phone and your bad memories, and go to sleep already. nobody remembers that thing you're tormenting yourself about, and your friends love you. be kind to yourself. you deserve good things (including healing rest).

hey sleepy nonnie, you perfect little summer-flower fieldmouse. i'm sorry this took so long and i'm grateful for your patience. i know it's hard to believe sometimes but there are people who see how hard you try, how you are giving it your all even when you're tired, and how you persist in spite of obstacles and mistakes. and they admire you for it, and even love you for it. you are so much more than whatever's keeping you up at night. i truly hope this little thing brings you some comfort, and eases your way into sleep.

Your little Knowhere apartment is dark.  Blue-and-purple shadows that had wrapped around you like a quilt when you first crawled into bed now feel like a bruise. The sprinkle of plasma orbs strung across the dusty bone-street outside do little to keep the midnight hours from passing, and you can tell it’s way too deep in the sleep-shift because you can no longer hear Howard’s indignant quacks and Steemie’s bellowing laughter when the former loses at poker for the umpteenth time.  The only real light you can see is the rectangle of your phone, sticky and sickish and pale, as you scroll over the slick screen. You’re not even sure what you’re seeing anymore — just thumbing hearts into the things that give you the tiniest, faintest glimmer of serotonin. At least you’re bundled into a soft quilt — courtesy of Ssssaralami — cocooned against the shadows and oppressive quiet. The knock at your door makes you jump. It’s less of a knock, you suppose, and more the sound of someone trying to beat up the door. Which means you know who it is.  You stagger to your feet, blanket still wrapped around you and trailing as you shuffle to the door and tap the sensor that slides it open.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for nonnie ♡

need more reminders from rocket?

the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist

࿔ eat somethin. (wc: 576) ࿔ go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737) ࿔ get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925) ࿔ take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375) ࿔ leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579) ࿔ take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020) ࿔ drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209) ࿔ stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609) ࿔ just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271) ࿔ it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923) ࿔ get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614) ࿔ did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288) ࿔ schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222) ࿔ do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994) ࿔ brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774) ࿔ nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231) for nonnie ♡

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto taglist ✩ @suicidalshitstick ✩ @glow-autumz ✩ @evolvingchaoswitch ✩ @wren-phoenix ✩ @pretty-chips

total word-count: 20,387.

[juminsamore]

S/O in a Depressive Episode

CW: Depression

Not proofread. AN at the bottom :)

I was originally going to make this with multiple characters like Diluc and venti but itto took over my brain. Hope this makes someone laugh or help if they're having a rough time.

A tiny bit of angst if you squint, Fluff, crackish, the TINIEST sprinkle of something suggestive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days ago you started eating less and sleeping more. You knew this was a depressive episode coming. You stopped visiting your boyfriend not wanting to bother him with your episode. A few days turned to a week and your boyfriend started to get worried. He knew you sometimes took long commissions but they only lasted 1 or 2 days.

~~~Itto~~~

• He woke up around 9 am. Irritated that he hadn't seen you in days.

• He walked to your house knowing you were usually up by this time. He knocked for a good 5 minutes.

• Huffing when he got no answer he went to the back to peek through your window. He saw you sleeping. "ah they must be tired...I should come back later." He left.

• After 2 hours he came back. Knocking on the door again. Again no response.

• He went to the back again mumbling to himself, "The great Arataki itto shouldn't be without sunshine" he looked through the window and saw you still asleep in the same position sleeping.

•Worry took him over. Why haven't you moved??? Did you die??? He quickly punched the window breaking it and jumped into your bedroom. "OI Y/N ARE YOU ALIVE?!? WAKE UP!" He jumped on the bed straddling you then grabbed you by the shoulders and began to shake you "HEY!! SUNSHINE!!! IT'S ME YOUR YOUR ONE AND ONI!!!" Tears almost escaping his eyes

• You opened your eyes startled by his shaking. You stared at him with a confused and scared look. "Itto what are you on about? Are you...crying?"

• He stops shaking you once you wake up "PFFT I'm not crying, I just uh got something in my eyes." He said as he let out a sigh of relief.

• He gets off you allowing you to sit up.

• You stretch as you cross your legs. Itto sits across from you in the same position.

• "You've been gone for a few days now...I've missed you. Where have you been? A commission?" He asks softly as he gently cups your face with his hands making you look at him

• You smile softly as you feel the warmth of his hands on your face. You think about how you should answer his question. Should you tell lie? Would he think you're weak if you told him the truth? You two have only been going out for around 3 months so you never brought up the fact you had depression due to how people close to you saw it as nothing but being lazy and weak.

• Itto saw a hint of worry in your expression and your hesitation "Hey... You know you can tell me anything right?" He leaned in kissing you on your forehead. He sat back in his original position "after all nothing like having the great ARATAKI ITTO hear you out and help you" he gave you a playful wink. He let go of your face and rested his hands on your shoulders.

• You giggled a little and let out a deep sigh well here goes nothing. "No, I wasn't gone on a commission...I've been here this entire time...I haven't felt like doing anything besides sleeping. It's just something that comes and goes once in a while " You say in a soft tone.

• "Huh? What thing? Also, you've been all alone for days?? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!?!?!" He asked crossing his arms and letting out a playful scoff.

• You look down at your hands twiddling your thumbs "It's just a depression episode, sorry I didn't tell you...I just didn't want you to think I'm weak."

• He paused for a moment changing his playful demeanor into a serious one. He would never think you're weak he's a little hurt you would think that about him. "Y/N...Baby, I would never think that. If anything I think you're strong for still being here with me. If anything you're the strongest person I've ever met. You're always helping people out and never expect anything in return." He kisses your left cheek "So don't ever think that okay?"

• Tears building in your eyes you slowly nod and reply with a soft "Okay."

•Itto goes in for a kiss but you stop him with a hand to his lips. "No kisses, I haven't bathed in a few days nor have I brushed my teeth"

• He rolls his eyes "Well we should fix that huh? How about a nice relaxing bath together?" He gives you a wink as he wiggles his eyebrows.

• You giggle, playfully smacking his exposed bicep."Only if it's truly relaxing and nothing else"

• "Alright then, you'll get a super ultra mega relaxing hot bath and a special massage done by yours truly" He looks around your room seeing it's a bit messy "After our bath, I'll cook you some food and help you clean up a bit. how does that sound?"

• "That sounds amazing." You smile at him leaning in to kiss his cheek, as you lean in he turns his head so your lips meet. "Whoops would you look at that my head slipped to the side." He says grinning.

• "I'll get that bath started" Itto quickly gets up, before leaving he grabs one side of your face and pushes it towards him so that his lips meet your cheek. He places a big kiss, vocalizing the kiss "MWAH" He takes off running to your bathroom.

•Notcing your broken window you yell after him "Itto! You better fix that window!"

• All you heard was a "Nope" followed by him laughing

AN: A lil self insert. I know other people may have the same experience with this. I just got out of a month-long depressive episode so yaaay. Neway let's get on with it. (I came back to this draft after 2 months so i kinda cut it short at the end since i was out of ideas. :P)

Sometimes i think it's kinda pathetic i have depression as a 21 year old thanks to those around me. I was diagnosed when i was 12/13 😒

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Around the Corner (Part 8)

Oliver puts his plan into action and the Reader makes a surprising- and wonderful- discovery.

Oliver Wood x Ravenclaw!Reader

3.3k words

Part 7

Warnings: lots of fluff, dialogue taken directly from ‘You’ve Got Mail’ because Nora Ephron is the best

A/N: Here it is, the finale! Thank you so much for reading. This might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I’m really sad to be done, but I’m super excited to share this story with you 💕

~

A few more weeks passed of Oliver sending letters back and forth with Y/N. He took care to avoid the topic of meeting during that time and provided only non-committal answers to her questions.

In the meantime, he enjoyed his budding friendship with the girl he now willingly admitted he was absolutely infatuated with. The two found themselves spending a lot of time together; sometimes they talked about the pen pal situation, with Oliver coming up with more and more ridiculous explanations about who the pen pal was, but more often than not they talked about everyday things like quidditch, their classes, what they did at home during the summer. And Oliver relished every opportunity to get to talk to Y/N as himself, no hiding behind letters; just Oliver.

This new normal led to a Saturday morning sitting by the lake, enjoying the bright sunshine and no impending quidditch matches or tests. Oliver had set down his sweatshirt on the grass for Y/N to sit on and laid himself down on his back, propped on his elbows. He glanced up at Y/N, pretending that he wasn’t soaking in every drop of her beauty.

“Alright, what’d he say?”

A smile spread across Y/N’s face as she unfolded her latest letter. “Read for yourself.”

Pretending he had not just written this exact letter, Oliver skimmed the parchment quickly. “This afternoon?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t too obvious in his acting. Y/N nodded enthusiastically as Oliver handed the letter back to her. “On the quidditch field. How romantic.”

“He knows it’s pretty much my favorite place on the grounds,” she explained, folding the note back up and sticking it in her jeans pocket.

Oliver gazed at her, admiring the slight flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye, thinking about how he’d grown to love so much about her these last few weeks; the way the stuck her tongue out slightly when she was deep in thought, her knack for just the right trivia fact or book reference to sprinkle into a conversation, the head tilt she swore she did not do when she was focused on whatever task was at hand. Then there was her confidence, whether on the quidditch pitch, in the classroom, or just goofing around in front of her friends; her bold kindness, not soft or gentle like other people Oliver knew, but an aggressive love she showed to the people she cared about; and of course, her physical beauty, which he’d always begrudgingly admitted to noticing, but now fully basked in. All these things combined into one incredible person that Oliver wished he had known all these years. Merlin, he’d wasted too much time.

As he studied her, Oliver began to wonder. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Hmm?” She looked down at Oliver, smiling what he now thought of as a dazzling smile. “What’s up?”

He thought a moment, choosing his words with care. “D’you ever think, if you weren’t you, and I wasn’t me, if things hadn’t been broken for so long…” He trailed off with a shrug, looking up into her eyes, seeing the same pondering expression he knew his held.

She hummed thoughtfully and turned her gaze to the lake. “We would’ve been friends sooner,” she supposed. “Best friends, probably.” With a shrug, she looked back down at Oliver.

Oliver sat up now, nodding. “Best friends,” he echoed. He met her eyes, searching them for a reaction as he continued. “And one day, I would’ve looked at you, and something in my head would just click.” He snapped his fingers. “And I’d ask you out for a butterbeer, or ice cream, or dinner… and I wouldn’t have been able to wait until the end of the date to lean in for that first kiss.”

There it was, the very thing he was hoping for: a deep flush in her cheeks, her eyes widening slightly with each word out of his mouth.

“Oliver…” she sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear; a nervous habit of hers, Oliver had discovered. She let out the smallest chuckle, clearly lost for words.

He continued. “And we would’ve never been at war, we’d never played those stupid pranks on each other, or said a cruel word to one another. The only thing we’d fight about would be whose common room to hang out in on a Friday night.”

A tiny smile formed on those lips Oliver found himself staring at far too often. “Now, who fights about a silly thing like that?” she asked quietly.

Oliver shook his head gently. “Some people. Not us.”

“We would never,” she agreed.

“If only,” he sighed, almost too quiet to hear.

A pause filled the air, along with the electricity between the two of them. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the sounds of people chattering and hanging out, but in this moment, they were in a world of their own. Oliver almost wished he could freeze this moment, where they were on the same page, both wishing they could somehow turn back time and do things differently. Do things right.

She cleared her throat, starting to get up. “I… I should go, er, get ready-”

Oliver took her hand, urging her to sit back down. “Well, let me ask you something.” Y/N resumed her seat, her cheeks still deep red. Oliver took a breath before continuing. “How can you forgive this guy for standing you up, and not forgive me for this tiny little thing… of making your life miserable since we were twelve?” His hand reached up to gently touch her cheek, which was just as soft as he expected it to be, if not a bit warm. He dipped his head, looking up at her through his lashes. “Oh, how I wish you would.”

They stared at each other, Oliver’s hand still on her cheek. He could see the rapid calculations going on behind her eyes, the same way she would look around the quidditch pitch to find an open teammate to pass to. He could almost swear he saw some tears there, too.

She swallowed hard. “I really have to go,” she finally whispered.

Oliver let go. “Yeah. You don’t want to be late.”

When Y/N stood up, Oliver could see her legs shaking slightly. She bent down and picked up Oliver’s hoodie, handing it to him. “I’ll see you later?” It was more question than statement.

“Of course,” Oliver answered with a small smile, taking the balled up sweatshirt. “I want to hear all about your meeting.”

The tension in Y/N’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really?”

Oliver nodded. “Absolutely. Believe me, Y/N, I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Oliver.” She turned and walked away briskly, her head down, arms crossed. About halfway across the grass, she turned and looked back at Oliver, who offered a tiny wave.

Once she turned back around and continued towards the castle, Oliver checked the watch on his wrist. He jumped up; he had somewhere to be as well.

~

“I have nothing to wear,” I grumbled as I dug through my trunk, poking through various pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters that were tucked in among my uniforms, undoing the house-elves’ meticulous folding.

“Want to borrow something of mine?” Penelope distractedly offered from her spot on her bed, where she copied notes from a textbook, watching my panic with only vague interest.

I shook my head. “You don’t have anything to wear either.” Closing my eyes, I paused my search and turned to face Penelope. “Crap. I’m sorry, Pen. I didn’t mean-”

She waved me off, unbothered. “You’re fine,” she chuckled. “You’re nervous.”

“Very,” I admitted, turning my attention back to my trunk. “Seriously, what is wrong with me? Why do I have such rubbish taste in clothes?”

“Okay, okay, I’m here to rescue you.” Maggie stood in the doorway, hands behind her back. “Wear. This.” With a flourish, she revealed the same little blue dress I’d worn to the party in the Gryffindor common room.

The tip of my nose grew warm just thinking of that party. “I dunno Maggie…”

She shoved the dress at me. “You look great in it. I remember the look on Wood’s face when you were wearing that thing. And he wasn’t the only guy looking. I promise, you’re gonna knock this boy’s socks off.”

I stared down at the dress in my hands. It was a cute dress. And there was no denying, especially after this morning, that Oliver had clearly liked the way I looked in it; shouldn’t this guy like it too?

“Fine, fine,” I grumbled, suppressing a grin. “I’ll wear the dress.”

About fifteen minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror, unable to help admiring how I looked. The dress was even more flattering that I remembered, I’d put on a touch of makeup, and Penelope had done something miraculous to my hair. I slipped on a pair of sneakers, which Maggie assured me was just cute and casual enough.

I gave a quick twirl in front of my friends. “What do we think?”

“Approved,” Maggie declared, giving a thumbs up.

“Very cute,” Penelope agreed, a smile on her face.

With a deep breath and a wave to the girls, I walked out the door and began what I knew would be a long walk to the quidditch pitch.

~

Oliver sat on his bed, parchment in hand. Of all the letters he and Y/N had exchanged, this was the one that mattered the most. He’d read it so many times he lost count; but he just had to read it once more.

Dear Oliver-

I’ve got to tell you before I explode: I’m mad about you. Absolutely over the moon.

You’re the best-looking boy in our year, by far. You have the most beautiful eyes, and your smile lights up any room. When you look at me, I feel like I could melt. And when you talk to me, I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest.

I’ve liked you since our very first day of Hogwarts. I don’t think you remember the first time we saw each other, but I remember it clear as day. You were looking for a seat on the train, and our eyes locked for a brief moment. You didn’t sit with me, but I wish you had.

I don’t know if you like me back, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re amazing Oliver. And I know you’re going to be a famous quidditch player in the future. I can’t wait to watch you play in the Quidditch World Cup someday.

I’m not going to tell you who I am- yet. Maybe someday I will. And maybe someday you’ll like me as much as I like you.

-Your Secret Admirer

Oliver smoothed the parchment carefully, letting the words wash over him. She’d liked him so much. It was painfully clear looking back; that little twelve-year-old girl used to talk to him every chance she got, asked him questions she definitely already knew the answer to, and he’d caught her staring at him on more than one occasion. He remembered now how, after he’d cruelly read the letter in front of everyone, she stopped talking to him. When he tried to tease her the way he often did, she’d snapped at him. He then decided she was a stuck-up snob, and thus their war began.

But there it was, in his hands, proof that, at least for a moment in time, she had been desperately in love with him. And Oliver was ready to find out if she could be again.

~

Has the pitch always been this far? I asked myself as I walked. Somehow, in my quidditch robes with my teammates, it had always seemed like a short stroll from Ravenclaw tower or the Great Hall. But now? I felt like I was hiking across the country.

On my way I saw some people out and about, enjoying the day; I ignored the curious glances from some classmates who were clearly thrown off by my not-so-typical outfit choice. In the distance, I could see the familiar stands and hoops, so I focused my attention there instead of the looks on people’s faces.

Despite the excruciatingly long walk, I stood before the entrance to the pitch much sooner than I had anticipated. My palms became wet as my face warmed up. Would he be there this time? Or was I about to be disappointed all over again?

For the millionth time in the last few weeks, my thoughts tiptoed away from my pen pal to Oliver Wood. He was the first boy I’d ever written a love letter to, after all. Part of me wondered if I’d done the right thing by the lake, choosing this meeting over him. I shoved down the queasy feeling in my stomach, willing myself to ignore the question.

Instead, I walked boldly onto the field, eyes scanning the green for any sign of life. I was a bit surprised to find that no one was hanging out in the stands and that none of the teams took advantage of the free day to practice; in the back of my head I supposed that only Oliver and I were that excessive.

It felt strange to walk around an empty pitch, but I couldn’t help but enjoy the quiet moment, the calm before the- no, not storm. Something better. Much better, I hoped.

Please come, I begged internally as I walked in a circle in the middle of the field. Don’t let me down again.

As I turned around, I spotted a figure strolling through the entrance of the pitch. My heart nearly stopped as I paused mid-step. With a deep breath, I steadied myself and tried to make out the figure walking towards me. After a moment, I saw them perfectly.

“Oliver!” I called with a laugh. “Come on, get out of here.”

As he got closer, I recognized the expression on his face. It was the one he wore when he had something serious to do; a quidditch match, a big test, asking Professor McGonagall to get the twins out of Saturday detention so they could play. And now he wore it as he approached me, one hand behind his back.

When he stood in front of me, I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing-

“Your favorite holiday is Christmas,” he began slowly. “George Harrison is your favorite Beatle because you think ‘Here Comes the Sun’ is the most beautiful song of all time. You make your mum send you photos of your dog every week because you miss him so much. You played football from the time you could walk, and you and your dad go see a match together every summer.”

“What are you-?”

Before I could finish my question, he pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing the library’s copy of Pride and Prejudice. “You’ve read all of Jane Austen’s novels, and you’ve read this one every year since you were twelve,” he continued. “And you laugh out loud at Mr. Collins’ stupid comments at dinner and you think ‘I send no compliments to your mother’ is the greatest insult of all time and you cry every time Mr. Darcy says-” He took a deep breath. “‘If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.’”

My body was frozen as he gazed at me expectantly. This recital of facts were all things I had told my pen pal in my letters.

My pen pal.

With a gasp, my hands flew to my mouth as realization dawned on me. For once in my life, I was standing in front of Oliver Wood, speechless. He gave a deep nod as he saw the understanding in my eyes and reached into the book for a piece of parchment.

“And you wrote me this letter in our second year,” he explained slowly, his eyes searching mine for a reaction as he held up the parchment. “A letter I obviously didn’t deserve. And I was cruel, and I hurt you. And you understandably hated me.” He let out a small chuckle and shook his head. “So, now I’m standing in front of you, half agony, half hope, wondering if we could, at the very least, be friends? Because you’ve become one of the most important people in my life, and I dunno what I’d do if- if you stopped talking to me.” He took a deep breath, now finished with his speech. Waiting for my answer.

Before my thoughts could even begin to settle, I lifted myself onto tiptoe to wrap my arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. My twelve-year-old self was dancing in circles as Oliver’s lips met mine and his hands found my waist, pulling me closer. His lips were soft against mine, the way I always knew they would be. He let out a small hum into the kiss, the vibration from his chest sending a chill down my spine. He pulled back, planted one more peck on my lips, and smiled at me.

“So you’re not mad?” he asked, leaning his forehead against mine.

“A bit annoyed at myself for not realizing it sooner,” I admitted, laughing. “When did you know it was me?”

“That day at the Three Broomsticks,” he explained. “I saw it was you and… well I almost ran away honestly. But Percy scolded me into going inside.” He bit his lip. “But I was still too cowardly to tell you who I was. ‘m sorry about that.”

I shook my head, which was still reeling. “I don’t blame you,” I assured him. “We… we were awful to each other. It’s like you said this morning, if only things hadn’t been so broken…”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just means we have some lost time to make up for.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m game if you are.”

“Have you ever known me to back down from a challenge, Wood?”

Oliver laughed and let go of me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he led me off the pitch, the book in his free hand at his side. “Come on then. I think I still owe you a drink at the Three Broomsticks.”

We strolled across the green grass and out of the pitch, both of us smiling, breathy chuckles escaping every time we looked at each other- which was a lot. His arm felt good wrapped around me, as if it belonged there.

“Y’know, I’ve got about a million questions,” I informed Oliver as I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“And you know I’ll answer all of ’em,” he assured me, planting a kiss on the top of my head, ignoring the gawking stares of everyone we passed by. I knew it would be a while before those stares died down.

“That was a very pretty speech back there,” I teased.

He chuckled as we made our way towards the familiar path to Hogsmeade. “Thanks. Been practicing it all week.”

“Yeah, I especially liked… oh what was it you said?” I feigned thinking for a moment. “‘Half agony, half hope’?” I asked with a smirk. “You also read Persuasion, eh?”

Oliver laughed and pulled me closer. “What can I say? You’ve turned me into a Jane Austen fan. I’m tackling Northanger Abbey next.”

“I told you she’s the best,” I said with a dreamy sigh.

Oliver stopped, wrapping his arms around me like he had on the quidditch pitch. “Yeah, but I think you’re my favorite writer.” He kissed me again; I wondered if I’d ever get used to the fireworks I felt when our lips met. “Promise you’ll still write me love letters?”

“Promise.”

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Yours, Forever | Chapter 14

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.9K

SUMMARY | The more dates Bucky and Y/N go on, the harder it is to keep their hands off of each other. When they decide to kick their relationship into the next gear, they have one of the most unforgettable nights of their lives together. The feeling doesn't last long, because when Bucky gets injured, she has to take care of him for once.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. A small sprinkle of Dutch is spoken (it will be translated for all of you who don't speak Dutch!), Bucky affectionately talks in Russian (Again, it will be translated!), smut [ Daddy kink, light praise kink, oral (M+F receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, use of the word slut (used affectionately), fingering, spanking, protected sex, squirting, aftercare ], Bucky gets injured.

A/N | There is some Russian spoken in this too as well as some Dutch. However, I can not promise the Russian will be completely accurate, although I hope it is!

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Series masterlist | Chapter 13 | Chapter 15

It is nice that you and Bucky have been growing closer again after everything that happened, but now that you're dealing with it in therapy. The two of you have been on a few more dates, and today he decided he wanted to help you and your dad in one of his bakeries. Not that he can bake for the life of him, but he just enjoys spending time with you and your dad. ''Alright, did you want to help me make some cake batter? I promise I will measure everything out for you, all you have to do is put it in the mixer and turn it on afterward,'' you ask and he nods. ''That sounds like something I can do,'' he says as he gets up from the stool he was sitting on and observing you.

You walk past your dad and whisper to him to make an extra batch just to be safe and he just chuckles. ''I have faith that Bucky will do just fine!'' your dad says and you laugh. It feels good to be able to genuinely laugh again, and it warms Bucky from the inside to hear it. You get all the ingredients for a pink velvet cake ready, while Bucky watches you intently. ''I can watch you bake forever and never get bored of it, you know that?'' he says as he gets up and wraps his arms around you, your back connecting with his chest as he lays his chin on your shoulder. ''Oh I know, but I don't mind. I used to watch my dad for hours and hours as a kid, which is where my passion for it comes from!'' you smile at the memories.

When all the ingredients are ready you instruct Bucky in what order to put them in and everything. When that is done and he turned the mixer to the correct setting, you reward him with a small kiss. ''C'mere, you deserve it,'' you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, his immediately finding their spot on your hips as you lean in for a small, soft kiss. Your lips fit together perfectly and even though the kiss was small, it leaves both of you breathless. ''I can't believe I can finally kiss you whenever I want,'' you tell him and he chuckles. ''You could always have done that,'' he shrugs before letting go of you and checking on his batter.

''Sunshine? Can I talk to you for a minute?'' your dad asks and you nod. It is quiet in the bakery, but you instruct Bucky to man the front of the store regardless. There are small signs to notify which pastries and everything is where in the case, and there is a price list next to the register especially for Bucky, so he can help out there as well, which he enjoys. When he found out you did that just for him, he practically tackled you to the ground and almost had to have you right then and there, if it weren't for your dad walking in and interrupting the moment.

''Hoe gaat het met je? Ik kan zien dat je weer een stuk vrolijker bent sinds je zo goed met Bucky op kan schieten de laatste tijd,'' (How are you doing? I see that you're a lot happier since you're getting along great with Bucky lately), he asks and you nod, and you're glad he can tell that you're doing better. It's been amazing to have Bucky back. ''Ik voel me oprecht goed, en ik heb me al heel lang niet zo gevoeld. En ik zou liegen als ik zeg dat Bucky daar niet mee heeft geholpen!'' (I'm feeling genuinely good, and I haven't felt like this in a long time. And I would be lying if Bucky hadn't helped with that!). Your dad nods and pulls you in for a hug. ''I love you,'' he says. ''I love you more, Dad,'' you sigh and this time he lets it slip, he's just grateful to have you with him.

You notice it's getting busier in the front, so you jump in and help Bucky out. ''Shall I man the register and you get the pastries and everything for the people?'' you ask Bucky and he looks genuinely relieved by it. ''Yeah, that would be great!'' he says and quickly steps aside. Within no time the line is gone, and it is closing time. You turn the sign in the window to notify you're closed and lock the door. ''Dad, if you want you can go home, I can clean up around here,'' you tell him, and he agrees. ''I have to swing by the other bakery first, but thank you, Sunshine,'' he says and he grabs his jacket. ''Geen vreemde dingen doen als ik er niet ben!'' (Don't do weird things when I'm not here!) he says with a wink, making you blush as you're well aware of what he's hinting at.

''Are you okay? What did he say?'' Bucky asks when he sees you blush, but you brush it off. ''N-nothing. Don't worry about it,'' you say as you turn around, holding the edge of the counter to ground yourself a little bit. ''Also, I'm sorry to be eavesdropping, but what were the two of you talking about earlier? I heard my name a few times, and since I don't understand a single word you said...'' he asks, getting flushed this time. You burst out into laughter. ''That I can tell you! He just said that I seem to be a lot happier since we've been getting closer, and I said I feel better too due to having you back in my life,'' you tell him. I guess he just didn't want anyone to know what we talked about.

''I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable by speaking Dutch in your presence,'' you say. ''It's okay, мой подсолнух (My sunflower). I can do the same to you and you wouldn't know a word I'm saying when I speak Russian,'' he jokes and you nod. ''Fair enough!'' you say as you smack him softly against his chest, and you want to turn around before he stops you and whispers something in your ear. ''Ты такой красивый, и я самый счастливый человек в этой вселенной, что ты рядом со мной,'' (You're so beautiful, and I'm the luckiest man in this universe to have you by my side) he says and the feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear gives you goosebumps.

''Bucky,'' you moan softly, and a smirk forms on his face. ''So speaking Russian to you is the way to turn you into a puddle? I have to remember that,'' he says and your knees have buckled, so it's a good thing your still holding the counter otherwise you surely would have fallen by now. ''Let's go clean up, and afterward, I will take you out for some dinner,'' Bucky says and you nod. ''That would be great,'' you croak out, and he is well aware of what he did to you just now. It is all just a little preparation for later tonight because he plans to take your relationship a step further if you're up for it too. Little does he know, you were having the same idea.

With the two of you, it takes less than an hour to clean the entire bakery, and leftover pastries are packed up to give away to a local homeless shelter like your dad does every night, and they're always very grateful for it. When those are dropped off Bucky takes you to a diner where the two of you get quite a lot of food, you're both starving after working hard in the bakery today. ''Shall we get a milkshake to share as dessert? I'd like to talk to you about something,'' Bucky offers and you nod. ''Yeah, that would be nice,'' you say and the two of you order a peanut butter chocolate milkshake, which is your shared favorite. ''So, what is it you want to talk about?''

''Well, I was thinking about what your dad said today - if what you told me is what he said, of course...'' he says and you nod, notified that it is in fact what he said. ''...and I was hoping we could give this another shot, and I was wondering if you'd want to be my girlfriend? I'd love to make this official with you, again,'' he chuckles. ''Nothing would make me happier than to be your girlfriend, Bucky,'' you say as you take his hands in yours, enjoying the difference between them. The flesh being so warm, and the metal being so cool to the touch. ''Come to my apartment after dinner,'' you whisper and he nods. Not long after your milkshake arrived and when that's gone, Bucky pays for dinner and walks you out with his hand on the small of your back. All you think about is how good it feels to have that there.

~ Back at your apartment ~

The second both of you set foot in your apartment, you couldn't keep your hands off of one another for more than a second. There was a trail of shoes and clothing leading to the bedroom, and now you're here, on your knees, tears streaming down your face and Bucky's fist lodged in your hair as he fucks your throat hard. God, you wanted this for so long and you couldn't wait any longer. The second he ordered you to sit on your knees you immediately listened, and now your nails are burying in his thighs as you're struggling to breathe, but it feels so good, you're humping the air to get any bit of friction you can get, but since you're completely naked all you do is drip your slick onto your thighs and the floor below you.

''You're such a desperate slut for Daddy's cock, aren't you? Taking it all like the slut you are?'' he groans and you just moan as best as you can around his cock constantly hitting the back of your throat. ''Fuck, gonna cum, doll. Wanna cum in your throat,'' he grunts and with a few more thrusts ropes of warm, white cum are being shot down your throat you swallow every last drop of it before Bucky pulls out of your mouth and you whine at the loss of him inside your mouth. ''D-daddy feels good,'' you croak, not being able to speak after what Bucky did to you. ''Yeah? You're feeling good, dollface? I bet I can make you feel even better when I get my tongue on that soaking pussy of yours,'' he says as he helps you up and onto the bed.

He crawls over your body and leaves soft kisses in a line from your thigh over your hip towards your breasts, giving each of them a little attention with his tongue and teeth as they find your nipples, making your back arch slightly and leaving you a moaning mess underneath him. ''Hm, such a needy slut for me. Haven't been touched in so long you're desperate, aren't you?'' he asks and you nod. ''Need daddy, please,'' you whine. ''Well, you have me right here. Tell me what you want me to do, where you need a daddy and I will do it, but you have to tell me with your words,'' he teases because he knows you can't exactly get out and coherent sentences. ''Wan' you to fuck me,'' you breathe out.

''Hm, and what would you like me to fuck you with? Fingers? Tongue? Or are you just a desperate cockslut for your daddy's cock?'' and you nod. ''Want all of them,'' you whine out and you arch up, trying to get any bit of friction but without success. ''Daddy, please! Wan' to feel you inside me so bad! Please please fill me up,'' you beg and Bucky's smile grows wider. ''Such a good girl when you're begging me like that. Doing so good for me right now,'' he says and he kisses you fiercely before moving down and teasing your clit with his fingers making you gasp. ''Is this what you wanted? Did my needy slut need to be touched on her puffy clit?'' he taunts you and you nod. ''Y-Yes Daddy, please!'' tears streaming down your face out of frustration, but you're finally getting the friction you've been so desperate for this whole time.

Without warning he suddenly plunges two of his fingers inside your weeping pussy and you gasp, followed directly by an almost pornographic moan when you feel his fingers stretch you out so perfectly. ''Fuck, your pussy is holding my fingers in a fucking vice grip, doll. Can't move them so relax a little,'' as soon as he says that you do and it feels even better. The squelch his fingers make is almost too much but as soon as he attaches his lips to your clit all you can focus on is the feeling of him filling you up, and making you feel amazing. He keeps a steady pace with his fingers and you're nearing your orgasm, and he notices the way your breathing changes as well as the fact that you're getting even wetter.

''Gonna cum for me doll? Wanna cum on my fingers and tongue?'' he asks and you nod. ''Daddy please, wanna cum!'' you moan loudly and he picks up the pace ever so slightly as he curls his fingers, hitting your sweet spot and within no time you're falling apart for him. ''D-daddy!'' is all you get out as the orgasm rushes through you. ''Hm, you look so good for me when you fall apart,'' he says and he gives small kisses on your inner thighs as he pulls his fingers out. The loss has you whining slightly, but before you know it Bucky is back on top of you, giving you soft kisses to make you feel better. ''Hi, pretty girl,'' he says as he wipes the hair out of your face that is sticking to it from all the sweat.

''Hi Daddy,'' you croak and he chuckles a little. His mouth gives soft kisses on your cheeks, along your jaw, on your forehead, and your nose, everywhere he can reach right now. ''Do you want me to make you feel even better?'' he asks and you just nod. ''Please, Daddy,'' you say, and suddenly you've flipped around, laying sprawled out on top of him as he reaches over to your bedside table to grab a condom. ''How did that get there?'' you wonder and it makes Bucky laugh. ''I put it there earlier so it would be easy to grab,'' he explains. ''Can you sit up for me? Or do you need to stay like this for a little longer?'' he asks and you're very comfy, so you decide to stay like this a little bit longer. It's a good thing that Bucky's super soldier serum keeps him hard and ready to go for a while because you weren't planning on moving yet.

The two of you cuddle like that for a good 30 minutes before you sigh and sit up. ''There she is! I thought you fell asleep at some point,'' Bucky says as he holds your hips to steady you. ''Maybe, I don't know to be honest, but I'm ready for more now,'' you say with a smirk, your hand reaching back to feel just how hard he still is. ''Feels like you're ready to go to, huh?'' you say and he lifts you, already having put on the condom when you were just laying on top of him. You raise yourself a little and line Bucky's thick cock up with your dripping entrance, and when you sink you moan loudly, while Bucky plays softly with your clit to relax you a little as you take more of him.

''Hm, feels so good inside me Daddy,'' you say followed by a breathy moan as you completely take him, his tip hitting your sweet spot on the way in. ''Gonna go slow though, want to enjoy this as long as I can,'' you say as you slowly start raising yourself before sitting back down, making Bucky groan at the feeling of your walls around him. ''Fuck, you feel so good on the inside doll, wanna be buried inside you forever,'' he says and you continue your movements while your hands roam over Bucky's abs and chest, feeling every single muscle and edge. After having slow, lazy sex like this for a bit you lean forward until your mouth is at Bucky's ear, and you whisper something that makes him almost go feral.

''Please Daddy, make me squirt like the desperate little slut I am for your thick cock,'' you say before nibbling on his pulse point and after letting out a deep groan he grabs your ass and spanks you hard with both hands at the same time making you whine loudly. He puts his feet on the bed and bends his legs to get the leverage he needs to fuck into you deep and hard, and since you're already on the edge of your orgasm it doesn't take long for him to fulfill your wish. He fucks into you hard and fast while his arms are grabbing your ass so hard you're sure it's leaving bruises, but all you care about is the immense pleasure he's giving you like this.

''Close, Daddy! Gonna cum!'' he says and you snake your hand between your bodies to play with your clit as he keeps hitting your sweet spot deep inside you. With a few more loud moans you squirt all over him, your legs, and the bed, and Bucky buries himself deep inside you once more as he cums too, without warning. ''Jesus doll, you made me cum too,'' he pants as he rides out both your orgasms until you're both too sensitive and he has to pull out. He pulls you closer into his arms and the two of you stay like this for a few minutes, basking in each other's pleasure and closeness. ''Shall we take a bath together?'' he asks and you nod. ''Okay, but that means I have to leave you for a bit, but I'll be back soon!'' he says and you roll off of him, laying sprawled out like a starfish on your back.

He runs a bath and puts in your favorite bath bomb (it isn't hard to guess which one it is since you have a whole stack of them), before taking off the condom and throwing it away. He cleans himself off before walking back to the bedroom where you're still laying on the bed, wearing nothing but a huge smile on your face. ''What got you all happy like that, pretty girl?'' he asks as he sits down on the bed next to you, bending over to give soft kisses on your forehead. ''You,'' is all you say before cupping his cheek and bringing him in for a slow, passionate kiss. ''Ik hou van jou,'' (I love you), you slip out, but you won't regret it at all. ''Я тоже тебя люблю, куколка'' (I love you too, doll).

After you confessed your love, both you and Bucky go to the bathtub, but you're carried bridal style and you're not mad at it honestly. Bucky steps into the bath and sits down while repositioning you in a way that you're back is leaning against his chest before handing you a bottle of water. ''Here, you need to drink this to feel better. I also got you some chocolate,'' he says and your eyes go wide at the word chocolate. ''My favorite?'' you ask giddily, and he nods. ''Got you the caramel-filled chocolate you love,'' and with that, you feel like you're in heaven again. Between sips of water Bucky gives you some pieces of chocolate as well as eating some himself, and when that's all finished he washes your body and hair.

''Wanna wash you too,'' you say and you turn around, so you can wash Bucky. ''Sorry about your arm,'' you whisper and Bucky giggles at that. ''Why are you sorry, doll? It's not your fault I have this arm,'' he says, but you still feel bad regardless. ''I know, but I know how much you went through to get this and I just think it sucks, because you deserve none of that. But it does look cool,'' you say and you both laugh. ''It sure as hell does,'' he says and you wash his body followed by his hair. When you're all done you both get out and Bucky quickly changes the sheets so you can lay in a clean bed. When the two of you are cuddling, you fall into a deep sleep, shortly followed by Bucky.

~ A week later ~

When you woke up the next morning after your first time with Bucky, you felt like you were still on cloud nine. It is still a little hard to believe he is your boyfriend, but you're very grateful. What you were not so grateful for, however, is the fact that he had to leave early for an emergency mission, and you were left all alone. It did give you some time to hang out with Pepper though, since Tony was on the mission too. ''So? How was it?'' she asks when the two of you are sitting on the couch and catching up, you just told her you had sex with Bucky, and he wants to know all the details. ''Oh god, it was amazing! It was very rough and just, desperate lust at first, but once we both came it was nothing but pure love and I'm grateful for that,'' you sigh, thinking back to that faithful evening. ''I honestly forgot what it felt like to just make love to someone, to not have to worry about anything and just be wrapped up in the moment,'' you say with a big smile on your face.

''I'm glad you enjoyed it, it sounds like the perfect first time for both of you,'' she says. ''And are you together, or...?'' and you nod. ''Before we had the night of our lives he took me to dinner and he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and obviously, I said yes. But now he's on that mission and-'', before you could finish that thought your phone was ringing so you picked it up to see Tony is calling you. ''It's Tony...'' you say as you show Pepper and you quickly pick up. ''Tony, is everything alright? Are you hurt?'' you ask. ''I'm okay, honey, it's not me you have to worry about. Bucky got injured badly and is on his way to the Compound, so you should meet him at the hangar when the jet lands,'' he says. ''Sorry to have to tell you like this,''. ''It's okay, thank you for telling me...'' is all you say before you hang up. ''Bucky's injured,'' you say and you feel the tears creeping up again.

Not much later you're at the Compound waiting for Bucky, and you're getting impatient. Suddenly you hear the roaring engine and Steve lands the jet easily before opening the door, and you run onto it. ''Where is he?!'' you ask frantically and Steve immediately guides you to Bucky, who has a very deep cut across his chest, and his leg is in a weird angle. The super soldier serum isn't helping much with his healing, and it hurts to see him like this. ''Doll...'' is all he croaks out but you shush him. ''It's okay, I'm here. You're going to be okay,'' you say as you place a soft kiss on his head. This time it's time to take care of him, instead of the other way around and you're ready for it.

[tracybirds]

Could you do Gordon with speechless?

I can!!! I got a little stuck last night because I wanted to sprinkle in a bit of humour for the sunshine boy, so I hope I pulled it off okay!! Thank youuuu this was a lot of fun to write :D

---

“It’s quiet today,” said Alan, putting down his game.

Kayo shrugged, idly flipping the pages of her magazine. “Scott and Virgil took Grandma to the mainland, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Alan. “But even so… where’s Gordon?”

“Is he not downstairs? I thought he said yesterday that he’d make cupcakes for Brains’ birthday if we didn’t get any callouts?”

Alan reached out and tapped the comm.

“Gordon? You around?”

There was no answer.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Without a word, Alan leapt up and hurried down the stairs.

“He’s not here,” he called back to Kayo, his voice floating up from the room below.

“Then leave him alone, he’s probably busy.”

“But Kayo, all the baking stuff is out.”

Kayo sat up, trying to quell the small voice inside her that helpfully supplied all the possible ways Gordon could be whisked away from the island without her notice.

She ran swiftly to join Alan, opening a line to John as she went.

“John, can you run a bioscan? Gordon’s fallen off our radar.”

“Working,” said John instantly. “Did you try ping him already?”

“Alan got no response,” Kayo confirmed. “And he’s not likely to ignore it for a laugh after the last time.”

“Life signs in the hangar and in the medbay.”

“No prizes for guessing who is who,” muttered Kayo. “And there’s no other signs of life?”

“Not human at least.”

“You don’t think that’s a little paranoid?” asked Alan.

“No,” they said together.

“Hurry up,” called Kayo as John flickered out of view. “Medbay means Gordon’s hiding something; let’s just hope he didn’t cut anything off.”

***

“I’m fine,” protested Gordon, his voice drawn up out of his throat like a holey straw. “It’s just a little scrape in my throat and I needed to restock the lozenges in my bathroom.”

Kayo folded her arms in front of her chest, staring him down.

“Kayo, I swear,” he croaked. “Do not tell Virgil.”

Alan snorted.

“She wouldn’t have to if there was nothing to tell.”

Gordon opened his mouth to argue, but little more than a hoarse wheeze escaped him.

Kayo cocked her head. “Sorry, Gordon, what was that?”

A frustrated whine was the only response.

“That sounded like he thinks you should talk to Virgil,” said Alan, smiling brightly and dodging the half-hearted swipe at his shoulder. “Maybe even Grandma!”

Gordon glared, unable to respond.

“Not. Funny.” he mouthed.

“Sorry, Gordon, you have to speak up,” said Kayo, trying to hold in her own laughter. “We can’t hear you.”

“Maybe you need hearing aids? That’s more likely than Gordon losing his voice, don’t you think?”

Gordon slammed his hand on the table and pointed emphatically at Alan.

“Me…?”

Gordon pointed again, nodding furiously.

“Okay then, I’m what?”

Gordon flipped him off, glaring as they both laughed even harder.

A loud beep cut through the levity as Kayo’s comm sounded.

“I assume you found him?” asked John drily. “All in one piece?”

“John, they’re being mean,” said Gordon, straining to form even a whisper.

“What? What was that? Kayo did you say something? My receiver needs a wire realigned or something, you’re very quiet.”

Alan hooted and danced out of reach and Gordon tried to tackle him in response.

“Gordon’s a little tongue-tied at the moment, John,” said Kayo, still grinning. “He tried to be stubborn and I’d say that backfired spectacularly, wouldn’t you agree, Alan?”

“Absolutely,” said Alan. “What are you always saying, Gords? The joke’s in the timing?”

Gordon glared.

“So’s the revenge.”

[feel free to send me a prompt plus a character!]

[alrightbuckaroo]

hi ada! it's nice ask week! i hope you don't mind me coming into your inbox!

what are your 3 favorite scenes in lone star?

what's your favorite hobby outside of fandom?

what's your favorite song/album right now?

Hello Rachel; I don't mind at all! I hope life is being kind to you and that hateful messages cease entering your inbox for the rest of time <3

what are your 3 favorite scenes in lone star?

Oh gosh, only three??

Maybe it's cheesy but I love the proposal scene. There's so many layers to it: the fact it was episode 3x18 and TK woke Carlos up at 3:18 in the morning, just after Carlos told TK he can wake him up at 3 a.m. if he needs anything??? I love the red string of fate, I love synchronicity I love soulmates. I also love the fact TK holds Carlos' hands the way he did when he told him they make a pretty good team. I say it all the time, but they really do hold one another like that's the reason God gave them two hands <3 Also the way TK rocks back and forth with excitement? The same way he flipped the ring he was going to propose to Alex with but because of anxiety? If I'm going to love anything it's a reference let me tell you that much!

I have gone out of my way to show people the Lou story line because to this day it might actually be my favorite. It's so miniscule, in a way, in the grand scheme of things but nothing beats TK walking in, posed like this: 🧍‍♂️and asking Carlos if they were robbed. As if the COP would just be sitting in a mess of a living room if they had 😭

Saving Grace is tied with Push as my favorite episode and I'll occasionally think of Grace telling Judd, "You're so tall." and Judd replying with, "You're so beautiful." and feel the need to scream because I LOVE them so much. I have a spin-off I want to write based off a Tarlos AU that's in the work and I can't wait to write them falling in love because I love falling in love with their love.

what's your favorite hobby outside of fandom?

Media consumption seems like the weirdest thing to call a hobby, but truly, that's what it is!

I love watching films that I don't know I'm about to love (Humboldt County, my beloved) , discovering new television shows that rewire my brain (looking at you AMC's Interview with the Vampire), listening to music that feels like sunshine (Cannock Chase by Labi Siffre, you will always be famous) or reading a book that makes me want to bite a brick (A Density of Souls by Christopher Rice ruined my life (affectionately)

If I'm not doing any of that, and this is going to sound so corny, but I write! I've been working on a novella for a little while as I'm trying to prepare something for grad school (that isn't gay firefighter fanfiction lol) and I was working on a book of poetry before realizing that I'm a much stronger narrative fiction writer than I am a poet (Ada Limón if I could just have a sprinkling of your voice please ma'am)

what's your favorite song/album right now?

Album wise it has to be Cowboy Carter. I've been saying it since forever, but Beyoncé truly is on a very different level than any other pop artist we have right now (and I like a lot of them! I loved eternal sunshine and I can not WAIT until Dua drops her third album in May)

If anyone is the music industry right now it is her because she is constantly reinventing herself as well and influencing the industry as whole. Did you know that she's the reason music comes out on Fridays now? Her impact !!

Anyways, one of my favorite genres of music is Classic Country; so think 1950s, 1960s Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash, Skeeter Davis, Lee Hazlewood, Glen Campbell; that whole bunch.

So, I was so excited to see what Beyoncé was going to cook up because that is a woman who makes sure each and every thing she makes is perfection and my god, it got as close as any of her work has gotten so far.

It also features an interpolation of Good Vibratations by The Beach Boys, who's one of my favorite artists so it feels like this album was made specifically with me in mind. Here's hoping Act III is rock because I need to hear her with Jack White again.

[yukidragon]

hiya! i wanted to ask, do you have sauce’s old art saved, or is there an archive somewhere? from what i’ve read, they had a twitter that’s been privated/locked (?) but i see people post art that looks like it was drawn by sauce ;w; also i’m sorry if this was already asked, i feel like i sent in this ask before but can’t remember,,

i love and appreciate all your work btw!! i hope you have an amazing day <3

Awwww! Thank you so much! That makes me really happy to hear. I hope you have an amazing day too! 💖

I’m afraid there’s no archive set up as of yet, just pictures fans managed to save and pass around amongst themselves. Sauce did mention that they wanted to create an archive on the patreon before they closed their twitter. I don’t know if that’s still happening or not, but I imagine that’s taking a backseat to their personal recovery and making progress on their various projects. They have a lot on their plate right now, so it’s understandable that it might take a while.

I have quite a lot of old art saved myself, and I use some of the pieces here in my posts occasionally, with Sauce’s consent so long as I credit them. They’re really such a nice person. That’s why whenever I share some of their art, I like I plug the SnaccPop Studios Patreon and remind everyone not to repost any of the privately posted content elsewhere.

You can see a lot of Sauce’s art peppered around my blog, particularly in posts I’ve labeled as Headcanon Ramblings. Sometimes it really helps to illustrate my points, you know? Maybe I should add a Sauce-y tag sometime.

Sadly, I can’t show any of the NSFW art over here without heavy censoring. Tumblr might say they’ll allow non-erotic nudity again, but I suspect all it’ll take is one floppy ding-a-ling, some “female presenting” nips, or something a bit too spicy and suggestive and my blog will be taken out with an extinction level event.

I mean look at this. This is such a fun picture and all you get to see over here is Jack’s face. Sure I could show the man’s nips since he’s not “female presenting” but with the level of spice sprinkled in this picture, I’d rather not risk it. Such a shame. Not that I can complain about seeing a face like that. This clown is having a really good time and it shows. Sauce does great work with expressions don’t they?

You know, this picture actually looks pretty exploitable cropped like this. It looks like a good teaser illustration for some spicy writing. It seems like an awful shame not to do anything with this idea, don’t you think?

Alice might not be a part of the full picture Sauce drew, but I’m totally going to imply it with a little bit of writing. I hope you all enjoy this impromptu snippet of Adults Only spicy fun times between Jack and my version of his sunshine~!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

Jack moaned as he tipped his head back. His clothes were in disarray, his shirt rolled up close to his collarbone, his pants and underwear dangling off one of his legs, with the rest of his signature outfit nowhere in sight. His flushed skin glistened with sweat and bore countless pink patches that marked where Alice claimed him as hers with her mouth.

That same mouth was wrapped around him now, showing Jack love in a way that he had only dreamed about before. He lost count of how many fantasies he had about Alice going down on him, but no fantasy could ever hope to compare the real thing.

Alice had started with kisses that fluttered along his length delicately, but just as the teasing started to get too much, she switched to using her tongue. She tasted him thoroughly, making sure not a single inch was left untouched before she took the tip into her mouth.

“Oh Alice…,” Jack moaned before biting his lower lip. “Your mouth feels so good… so warm…”

Alice let out a low hum, and the vibration of her voice made him twitch a bit. She repeated the sound again, longer this time as she sucked on him, and she was gratified to see his eyes roll upward.

Jack was so big, bigger than anything Alice was used to. A part of her worried she might not be able to handle all of him without choking, but she was determined to try. She focused on relaxing her jaw as she dipped down as far she could before she had to draw back for a breath, taking him just a little bit further each time.

Jack twined his fingers through his sunshine’s fair hair as he watched Alice adoringly. “You’re doing so good…” She gazed up at him through nearly white lashes, and the way her blue eyes burned with desire that was only for him sent a jolt of heat directly into his core. “God… You look so beautiful like this. I love you so much.”

Alice wanted to respond in kind, but words were impossible for her at the moment, so she traced a heart on his inner thigh with her finger instead. Jack murmured her name in return, his rich voice dissolving into another moan as she teased him with gentle suction. She couldn’t get enough of his sweet words or all the adorable noises she coaxed out of him. It made her all the more determined to please and tease him.

[hueieve]

perfect storybook.

“akaashi, that is? i've learned from our lesson today about myths that it's your name. it suits you being the man in the moon, it sounds gentle and you're very much like the celestial body that you're living in. you're actually the only myth that i believed in, you know?" bokuto pressed his sweating palms against his knees as if trying to rescue them away from his deep ache. the embers of the moon illuminated through his windows where the stir of the night danced through his already cold being.

"akaashi.. today, i was almost kicked out of home. i've always studied hard but the conditions in this house are dreadful. my mom has been enjoying beating me these days. i couldn't even fight back.”

the man in the moon, akaashi, listened carefully. he has known bokuto eversince. he'd always hear his stories like how he used to pop off the bubblegum of his friend as a child to how he's being a lazy bum who thought about not continuing the path of college. akaashi had always watched over him when he sleeps and he finds his face serene as sea. today's tale from bokuto's day was different, there was no sign of happy sunshine in his face. the human was hurt by someone who's dear to him.

akaashi shed a tear.

“akaashi! you're actually listening to me right now? i've seen sparkles on the moon, glistening! are you alright?”

“i've always listened and watched over you.. and i'm alright, just worried.” the man who resided by the moon wanted to say, but can't be heard, so he just let the mild breeze send his feverent desires of letting bokuto know that he was there. the latter did not fail to catch on these subtle signs from the moon man. bokuto's grief melted away with the breeze and it was then that his first smile for today was made.

“anyway, it's past midnight now, akaashi. i hope you're okay, whatever it is that bothers you. your crescent moon looks awfully stunning tonight. sweet dreams."

akaashi hummed to himself and smiled. he made the luminance of the moon brighter as bokuto tucked himself to bed with his window open. perfect timing. the human had told him before that other than the moon, he likes its moonlight— and akaashi never forgot that little detail.

the next day was the same. even if bokuto won't tell him stories, he knew everything. when he's walking home alone from school, he'd illuminate the dark, dim lit streets he's walking in. he'd never seen someone who liked the moon and talked to the man who resides by it more than anyone. he's the only man from the human realm who believed in his existence. surprisingly today, he hasn't talked to him yet and he's just lying on his bed—crying, not until a floating figure came to approach his window.

“it's peter pan. why is he here?” akaashi muttered to himself.

bokuto approached the floating man which he's sure that he has only seen him in storybooks. akaashi overheard their conversation.

“are you..”

“peter pan, that's what they call me, i promise that you'll never be lonely. do you want to come? you'll be happy, eternally, in neverland.”

“can i really.. sure. oh, is that what i'm thinking about?”

“it surely is.”

he sprinkled bokuto in pixie dust and told him to believe, believe in him and believe in himself. before they left,

bokuto said,

“akaashi, i'll come visit you again sometime! i'm going!”

they were off to neverland, where boys who were unloved was now found as they could find eternal euphoria on the land where we thought didn't exist.

“bokuto will be happy there atleast..” akaashi muttered, but he really can't deny that he's in grief. the friend, the person who acknowledged him, was gone. and ever since that day, he was lonely. and when the new moon came, he poured his heart and cried. crying came in no surprise in his life since he was alone, no one to be with but the moon. he had no company, not until he met bokuto who apparently, talked to him. his sobs from before are different from when his precious bokuto left, it's so much heartbreaking than it was from the past. he smiled bitterly when bokuto gave his last message for him several days ago because he knew very well. he had always knew and always been.

because bokuto never came back.