#i missed a lot of content and the game did run and look like ass for a lot of it

[invinciblerodent]

feeling particularly rabid today as I install bg3 onto MY BEAUTIFUL NEW PC!!!!!!!!

I don't know much about nothin

But one thing, I do know;

Shit's gonna be PRETTY

[gojos-whatnow]

『Make Your Dreams Come True』⇝♡

⭒Alt. title: normal call gone booty :000

⭒Synopsis: Gojo's flirting with you over the phone, as usual, when you suddenly ask him to come over...

⭒Warnings: NSFW, sexual content, subby satoru ml, reader and Gojo are both switchy tho, afab!reader, fingering, dick riding, not clearly stated that reader/gojo are virgins but you can imagine it, reader/gojo are best friends at the start, lots of the word "baby", implied fortnite (I'm probably missing stuff but oh well)

⭒Setting: Juju high Satoru but aged up ykyk cuz his sunglasses are so mmf

⭒Notes: first post but I'm considering making this a series HELP

You and Satoru happened to be playing games together, as usual when you weren't on missions or doing schoolwork. You adjusted your headphones slightly, feeling the growing head discomfort from wearing them too long. It was worth it for Satoru, however, since he never ceased to make you laugh.

"Why would you run so far off, dude, you're gonna get sniped," you sighed, seeing how far away he was on the map.

"Pfft, I'll be fine, worry about yourself, you're one-tap."

"Maybe if my teammate decided to come help me I wouldn't be."

"You're jus' sayin' that cause you miss me."

This was the usual back-and-forth until one of you got ambushed or something. The normal flirting from Satoru while you shrugged it off with a chuckle. Though, you'd been playing for hours now, and tiredness was creeping into your skull, knocking down the filters of brain and speech one by one.

"Yeah, miss you a lot," you murmured, meaning to sound teasing. It came out all too genuine. "Wish you would come save me, Satoru."

You listened to the clacking of his keyboard, faint over your headphones. Satoru's silence made it all too easy to hear the lull in his playing, the quick pause and pickup. You looked at the map, knowing exactly what it meant. Sure enough, his ping was high-tailing it towards yours. You chuckled to yourself, feeling warmth in your chest. What a hero.

"Something funny?"

"No, no, you're just down bad for me is all," you spoke slyly.

"As if I try to hide it."

"Y'know, I reread our chats when I want an ego boost."

"You serious?" He snickered.

"Yeah. All the times you've called me gorgeous and told me I had a nice ass..."

"Wait, waitwaitwait-"

You heard the clacking of his keyboard stop entirely. Pausing, you realized and looked at your phone, tapping into your messenger. His typing bubble was up, as expected. You continued walking towards him in the game as you waited for his message to come up.

"Ok, there."

You turned to your phone and deadpanned.

S͟a͟t͟o͟r͟u͟u͟u͟u͟u͟ ͟🥺͟️͟🥺͟️͟:͟

Beautiful tits

And rack

You shook your head and hastily typed back 'nice cock' before picking up where you were. You heard his phone go off, a few seconds go by, then his seductive voice spoke to you again.

"Wanna see it, baby?"

"Bet."

He breathed out a laugh and you continued playing, occasionally speaking your mind a bit too much from grogginess. The sleep deprivation had started to show in your voice, though.

"You tired or something? Need a sleebge?"

"Yuh, I'm eepy," you yawned, rubbing one of your eyes. "But let's just finish this match."

"We're gonna lose if you're nodding off while you're getting cracked. Might as well quit while we're ahead."

"Ugh, that phrase. You sound like, fuckin', me." You cringed at your own phrasing, letting out another yawn.

"I wish I was fuckin' you."

After the moment it took your mind to register the words, you felt a response roll off of your tongue faster than you knew it was even there.

"Then come over."

You heard the usual chuckle that you and Satoru would share after something like that snake through your headphones. When you didn't join in, there was a pause.

"Are you... serious?"

A moment. A single moment was all it took in your tired mind to commit to this idea of yours.

"Did it sound like a joke, Satoru?"

You could hear his speechlessness, you could tell he was floundering like a fish right now, his keyboard, his screen, the whole match left completely forgotten. Once you'd had enough of the silence, you spoke to him again.

"I'm absolutely for real right now. Door's unlocked...

Lemme make your dreams come true."

"Ffffffuck."

You watched on your screen as a popup appeared. "THE_honored1 has disconnected." With a smile, you left the call, pulled off your headphones to let your ears breathe. You had just finished standing and stretching when there was a soft knock on your door. So uncharacteristic of Satoru.

You quickly checked your clothes and hair, just to make sure you didn't look like an absolute slob who had been in their gaming chair all day. Oh well, Satoru probably wasn't too far off from that himself.

You opened the door, only to find your friend was completely quiet, barely able to meet your eyes, though it seemed like he couldn't look away from them either. With a friendly smile, you stepped out of the way and motioned for him to enter. He stepped past you, hands in his pockets. You closed and locked the door behind him, then turned around just in time to feel an arm wrap around the small of your back and a hand gently grab your chin.

"I need to know..." He paused, taking a breath. He was basically panting, hot breath ghosting over you with each exhale. "I need to know right now... if you really meant it."

"Every word."

"You still do?"

"Of course."

At that, the hand under your chin pulled your face to his and his lips crashed into yours. You could feel him trembling as your arms wrapped over his shoulders, and you could feel his heart racing, beating right out of every artery in his body.

He felt sparks, fireworks, the whole nine yards, as he kissed you. His whole body seemed to stall like an old car as soon as his lips touched yours. His brain turned to mush- no, melted. Reduced to a boiling soup in his skull. Because finally, finally he was kissing you.

'Girl of my dreams' wasn't how he would describe you, but he'd dreamed of you. He'd literally seen you in his slumbering mind, and wished he could do more than just the occasional flirting and borderline sexting. Satoru had been fantasizing about you for years, it felt like, ever since you'd reached that casual first-name basis. He wanted to know what it would really be like. If those fantasies could be recreated.

And when you kissed back, waking him from the sloshing pool his mind had become, he tugged you close, bodies flush. He felt your breasts squish against his chest, one of your hands cupping the side of his head just under his ear, and God did it make him lightheaded as all the blood in his slovenly brain ran south. He could feel his voice in the back of his throat, threatening to let out a moan with every exhale. He struggled to hold it back, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you by acting like an animal in heat just from your kiss and your touch.

You couldn't say you weren't feeling anything yourself, though. You were sure that, without your bra, Satoru easily could've felt how your nipples were hardening, and your breath shook as one of his hands left your chin and sensually trailed down your side and up under your shirt. But, of course, these feelings weren't nearly as turbulent as Gojo's excitement and arousal, which were only hightened when your tongue slipped between his lips.

You softly leaned into him, tapping his leg with your foot to signal for him to move back. As you continued kissing him, you led him back to your bed, shoving him down to sit on the edge of it and finally letting your lips leave his. As you caught your breath, you crawled up onto him, straddling his lap. He looked up at you with eyes that screamed how bad he wanted you, panting heavily but still wanting more. Then, he chuckled.

"This isn't at all how I expected."

"Hmn?" You beckoned for him to explain, draping your arms over his shoulders and carding one hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

"It's all so backwards from how I pictured it. I always thought I would be the one to invite you over, run the show... be the one in charge, but fuck, I'm such a loser," he sighed out, trailing his hands over your waist and stomach under your shirt. To help him, you pulled it over your head and off, giving him better access and a nicer view.

"A loser? What, for having a girl on top of you?" You purred, trailing kisses along his cheek and jaw. "Please, there's at least a billion guys who'd sell their soul for that."

His voice and breathing trembled as he tilted his head to the side for you. "No, I mean... how I barely had the balls to even come over... Let alone ask you to."

"Trust me, baby, you can do anything if you're tired enough. Or if you're Satoru Gojo," you whispered, nibbling lightly on his ear. A shudder ran down his spine at that, and he felt like he could cum right then and there.

"Fuck... Keep talking like that and I won't last for shit."

"Yeah? And how do you think I feel when I'm touching myself to your messages, hmn?"

He let out a soft gasp as you ground your hips against his. His hands ran to your hips, gripping them and guiding them as they rolled.

"Saying I could last three minutes would be a generous estimate."

"God, you do that too?" He asked, voice coming out whiney. You let out a seductive chuckle that burned through his loins.

"Of course I do. Ego boost, remember?"

"You like when I call you gorgeous?" He sighed, feeling you throb against his crotch.

"Don't dislike it," you admitted. "You're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, though. Pretty boy Satoru."

He felt his rock solid cock twitch in his pants at your words, once again. He was doomed. His molten mind knew that, even as he helped you take his shirt off. And then your hands trailed down his chest and stomach, making him even dizzier.

"Don't think... I can take much more of this..." He admitted as your soft lips kissed down his shoulder. He could feel you smile against his skin.

"Hehe, awwwe, you close Satoru?" You giggled and gave a few harsh rolls of your hips, sending hot pleasure coursing through his lower half. He gasped, hands gripping you tightly.

"Fuck, fuck, Y/n, don't do that."

"Okay, baby, I think you've waited long a enough. Just how long, I wonder?"

It felt like his whole life. An eternity he'd waited for this, for the chance to watch you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down and off of him, followed by you doing the same with your leggings. You crawled back on top of him, hovering over his thighs and holding his shoulder with one hand to steady yourself. Meanwhile, your other hand found its way into his boxers, and you could hear his breath hitch as your fingers wrapped around his length and slowly started stroking up and down.

"Y-you don't have to do that," he breathed out, a hand gripping your wrist. "Trust me, I'm as hard as I could get."

"Well, I should hope so. You're bigger than even I expected," you chuckled, stilling your hand and pulling it away.

He sighed softly and looked up at you through his pretty lashes with a smug look. "And what about you? Think you could take it? Think you're even ready to?"

You felt yourself clench on nothing at his words, feeling how intense his eyes were on yours. With a smile, you grabbed his hand and placed it at the waistband of your panties.

"Why don't you find out?"

His smile left his face, mouth opening as he took a breath. His eyes left yours to look at where his hand was, and his mind stalled only a moment before his fingers dipped under the fabric of your underwear and softly tugged them down.

He left them about halfway down your thighs and reached up to cup your sex. He drug a finger through your folds, feeling how wet you were and suddenly wanting nothing more than to see how much pleasure he could bring you.

He continued pulling his finger forward until he found your clit, stopping to rub gentle circles against it. He heard a soft noise fall from your lips and watched your hips just barely twitch. God, did he want to turn you into a mess.

He looked up at you and your heated expression. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," you spoke, sounding the least composed he'd heard you all night. Carefully, he slipped one of his fingers between your folds, stopping at a shallow depth and curling his finger to tease you.

"You want it all the way in?" He asked with a smirk on his face and a playful lilt to his voice. You bit your lip, lidding your eyes at him, and wrapped your hand back around his cock.

You watched his whole teasing nature melt away as his cock twitched in your hand, begging for friction. Silently surrendering, he pressed his finger deeper until your cunt reached the base of his finger. He felt around your insides, watching you squirm slightly.

"'S that feel alright?"

"Yeah, you're all good."

At that, he curled his finger forward finding your g spot and feeling your walls clench around him. He added another finger and prodded against that spot. Your hips rolled against his hand as a soft moan was pulled from your lungs. The moment he heard your voice make such a heavenly sound, he was hooked. He couldn't help but move his fingers faster, try to reach deeper, and softly rub his thumb against your clit.

"Satoru," you called, somewhere between a moan and a fond chuckle. You reached a hand up to cover your mouth, only for it to be stolen away and replaced by a greedy pair of lips, drinking in every soft moan you gave. It didn't take long from there to feel a coil tightening in your abdomen, and as you pulled away from Satoru's lips for air, you leaned into him, pressing your chest to his and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Y-you really want- hah- want me to cum now?" You asked making sure he was actually alright with that fact and not just lost without a thought.

"Fuck yes, baby. And I'll make it happen again when I'm inside you, mark my fuckin' words."

Hearing this, you felt your orgasm crash into you, making you stuff your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your sob. After all, two of your walls were shared with Shoko and Utahime, and you'd prefer that neither knew what was happening (particularly Utahime).

Once your orgasm had ended and you were catching your breath, you felt Satoru pull his fingers from his cunt, letting the cool air of the room touch your slick and make it embarrassingly obvious how wet you were. You pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, finding he had two fingers in his mouth and a dreamy look in his eyes.

You tasted absolutely delicious. If he wasn't so painfully hard and losing patience, he'd have started eating you out right then and there, not stopping until you were barely lucid. God, how gorgeous you would look like that. But it'd have to wait for next time, and he'd make sure there was a next time.

"Need a break?" He asked softly, though it would pain him to hear you say yes.

"No, no, not after you've been waiting so nicely," you murmured, kissing across Satoru's face. As you did so, you took a hand off his shoulder and used it to tug your underwear all the way off. Once he realized what you were doing, he shifted around to tug his boxers down his own legs, leaving him completely bare under you. There was only one thing keeping you from being just the same.

"You gonna keep this on the whole time?" He asked slyly as he tugged at your bra strap.

"You want it off?"

"Wanna watch 'em bounce." He turned his eyes to yours, pausing your kissing. "You wanna keep it on?"

"Well, it's..." suddenly you looked the most flustered he'd seen you. Ever. Even when he was knuckles deep in your cunt, you'd kept some sort of stoic persona. But now, suddenly, even through the dark he could tell your face was red. "It's embarrassing..."

"Why's that?" He cooed, pulling you close so he could kiss along your shoulder.

"Whaddya mean, 'why-"

"I mean, it shouldn't be embarrassing around me. I worship you. It hasn't changed yet, why now?"

You thought through his words for a second, then sighed and grabbed both of his wrists, pulling them to your shoulder blades.

"...go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's like you said. Why not?"

He gave you a soft look and pressed an even softer kiss to your lips as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it and carefully pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare and with an urge to cover yourself as you felt your nipples harden even further with the cool air.

"'S okay, yeah?" He asked reassuringly, dropping his hands to your waist. When you nodded, he leaned forward and trailed kisses along your chest and both of your mounds. Your breath shook as you watched him and how his eyes would occasionally meet yours, making sure you knew how much he loved you and your body. After a bit more kissing, and some hickey-leving and groping, his lips lifted to meet yours, and his hands returned to his waist.

"You ready yet?" You sighed out, pulling your mouth from his.

"I've been ready for an hour, baby," he laughed, his enthusiasm returning.

"You sure?" You cooed playfully.

With a frustrated look on his face, you felt Satoru tug your hips down, pressing his cock against your folds. You bit your lip, feeling yourself throb and softly grind against him. He loosened his grip and you took that moment to lift yourself up enough for you to grab his length and line it up with your entrance.

You both exchanged a glance before he helped you ease down onto his cock, blissful sighs leaving both your throats. You felt Satoru whisper out his thousandth curse of the night and bury his face into the crook of your neck, letting out shaky whimpers as you continued to ease down.

"D-don't worry about- hah- t-taking it all..." he reassured, no longer helping you down - letting you go at your own pace.

"I can fit it," you murmur, continuing your careful decent down onto him.

"God, you're so hot inside. F-feels like I'm melting... All cause of me..."

You meant to chuckle, but it came out as more of a near-silent whimper as you sat down fully, feeling the tip of his cock kiss depths inside you that had never been reached before.

"You really did fit it all," he sighed out, an obvious smile on his face even though you couldn't see it. "You're a fucking angel."

He ran his tongue over several of the hickies he'd left along your neck and shoulder, all easy to hide, as per your request. You rested where you were, trying to get used to his length being the full way inside you.

"You alright?" He leaned back slightly, pulling your chin so you face him. "You're so quiet. You short-circuitting?"

You wiggled your hips and smiled at him, watching his lashes twitch as his eyes threatened to roll back at just that. "I could ask you the same thing," you purred between soft breaths. He leaned forward and rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a way that was hug-like. One of his hands reached down under one of your thighs and attempted to lift you up, but you stayed put, clenching your walls around him and hearing him let out a shaky breath.

"Can't wait, baby," he whimpered softly. "Can't wait. Please move."

Indulging his sweet, pathetic pleads, you lifted yourself up slowly and sat back down, the feeling of his tip ramming into a certain spot inside you making you clamp down on him once more. His arms tightened around you. "Shit," he let out a sobbing whisper.

"You're so shy right now, Satoru," you cooed, trying embarrassingly hard to keep your voice from cracking. "What happened to all the talk you give me over our calls?" With that, you slid yourself back up and down. The resulting sound that graced your ears was glorious. Right next to your ear, you heard the great Satoru Gojo squeak. So vulnerable.

You picked up these movements at a slow and steady pace, not wanting to overwhelm Satoru, but make him feel amazing. And amazing he felt, dizzy and with his soup-mind more than numb. His soft grunts told you that much.

Everytime his tip prodded against a sweet spot inside you, you wanted to slam yourself down onto him and feel it again, but you knew Satoru wouldn't last if you went too rough. Right now, his arms around your waist pulling you up and down told you what pace he wanted as he steadily pulled you faster. You slipped a hand up his neck and into his hair, tugging softly to hear more of his voice. As the speed mixed with pleasure started making it impossible to keep quiet, you pressed your mouth to the top of his head.

It was clear he knew he was hitting a good spot, as he kept angling his hips to reach that spot with every bounce. One of his hands reached down to rub at your clit and, in your mind, there was the thought that you might actually cum first.

"Fuuuck, I'm close," he whined out, and you could feel his hips twitching up in an attempt to meet your bounces. Between your moans, you whimpered out a "me too."

He started tugging your hips up and down faster, and his hips struggled to meet yours to ram into the very back of your cunt. You yelped the first time his tip slammed into that sweet spot, and hid your face in the side of his head, recalling your wall-mates.

It took barely 30 seconds for your orgasm to wash over you. At the last moment, Satoru grabbed your face and shoved his tongue down your throat, lapping up your orgasmic mewls and keeping you somewhat quiet. Your cunt squeezed his cock tight, and one more thrust did it for him, sending his eyes up and back into his skull as he saw white. Without a thought of hesitation, he pumped your insides full of his cum, orgasming harder than he'd ever felt in his life, and it only felt better at the thought of making you all his.

His lips still stuck to yours as you both attempted to catch your breath. He pulled away for a moment to look into your eyes, only to lean back in and give you a real kiss, making you whimper.

"I fucking love you, Y/n," he sighed out as he pulled away, looking back into your eyes with a gaze so genuine, it made you freeze. "This... this is a terrible way to ask, probably top 5 worst ways, but... will you be my girlfriend?"

You sighed out a laugh and pulled his lips back to yours, kissing him with a completely different intention now. "How could I say no to you, honey? Heh, and you called yourself a loser," you shook your head. "Would a loser be in this situation?"

He rolled his eyes at you and pecked you on the lips. You gave him a soft smile, but yelped as you felt him swing you around, tossing your back down onto the bed. Your mind caught up just in time to see him on top of you with a dopey smile on his face.

"So, Sweetheart, you wanna go again?"

BONUS: The Morning After

After spending the morning making sure that your legs still worked, your hickies were covered, and that no one was around to see Satoru leave your room, you met with your classmates as if it were any normal morning. It seemed like one too, as you greeted everyone, including Satoru. He'd waited for you to text him that everyone had already left, so he was the last one out.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," you waved.

"If I had known you would be so late, I would've came and woken you up myself," Geto sighed. You quietly thanked God that Geto didn't attempt to do that.

"Hey you guys," Shoko waved. You felt nervousness in your chest at how amused she seemed.

"Did you have fun last night?"

Your stomach dropped, and you slowly turned to Shoko, finding a smug look on her face. Geto look confused, but knew something was up when he saw the terrified stares of you and Satoru.

"What happened?"

"Nothing important," Satoru waved his hand dismissively with a sigh, but his face was red too.

"I'll tell ya later, " Shoko leaned over and whispered to Geto.

"What're you idiots making such a big deal about?" Utahime asked, looking at you and Satoru's expressions.

"Hey, Utahime, you didn't happen to hear any weird noises last night, didya?" Shoko asked, leaning around you to look at her.

"I did, actually. Around 11, I think. Why?"

"Nothing, just making sure I wasn't hallucinating or something," she brushed it off, continuing to smirk at you and Satoru. At that Utahime left with a suspicious look.

Geto suddenly put the pieces together, eyes widening. "Wait. You two..."

Shoko nodded with a knowing 'mhm'.

With a look over his shoulder to make sure that Utahime was really gone and Mei Mei wasn't looking, Satoru reached over and tugged your collar to the side, displaying a blue hickey. You slapped his hand away, looking at him with a beat red face.

"Satoru!" You gasped.

"Oh, we're dating, by the way." He spoke coolly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Took you long enough," Geto rolled his eyes.

"I told you, man, I had a plan this whole time."

"Last I checked, that wasn't at all the plan."

"Well, I had to make some... situational changes."

You, Geto, and Shoko all deadpanned at his bullshittery.

"Okay, look, the point is that it worked out."

"I guess I can confirm that," you sighed.

"Is he any good?" Shoko asked, nonchalantly. "Eh, why bother asking? I could hear the answer to that last night."

"Shut up!!"

[evolnoomym]

Secrets and Lies 🌜

Gilf!Joel Miller, Dilf!Jack Miller x f!reader

Pt.1🌛 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: The filthy Adventures continue, but now Jack joins the fun. Together they make your dream of taking them at the same time come true. But what about James?

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 4.5k

Authors note: Finally we got the long awaited Part 2. I hope y’all enjoy cuz I put a lot of energy into this and yes it’s filthy so don’t look at me. 👀🤭

Warnings: no y/n, female reader, Moon is not a name necessarily but more a nickname, age-gap, controversial age gap, cheating, infidelity, unethical I guess, Joel doesn’t need blue pills, 2 other male OC’s, Joel=Grandpa Jack=Son James=Grandson, Moon has tits and a vagina, hair pulling, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, use of a butt plug, ass eating, fingering, deep throating, cream pie’s, fluff in between, nipple licking & biting, anal and vaginal penetration, dp, sucking+biting, Moon bites too, dildo use, lotsssssss of lube, ambiguous ending,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Shoutout to @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics for the dividers and big thank you to @joelmillerisapunk & @jennaispunk for beta reading. <3

Credit for the Gilf!Joel Pic in the Moodboard goes to @iamasaddie 😈

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. 😅🫶🏻

🌜Songs that are the vibe🌛:

Crush - Ethel Cain

Love Is a Bitch - Two Feet

Guys My Age - Hey Violet

You Don’t Own Me - SAYGRACE, G-Eazy

Moth To A Flame - The Weeknd

BITCH - Allie X

Oh Child - The LION

Let Me Love You - Mario

I’m Yours - Isabel LaRosa

Love Game - Lady Gaga

BABYDOLL - Ari Abdul

Les - Childish Gambino

After Jack had walked in on you and Joel, not a whole lot changed. In fact it seemed to only have gotten better for you. Who in their right mind would say no to two absolute hunks. Admittedly Joel had caught your eye first, but it was not undeniable that Jack was just as hot. Both are older men, mature, dominating and they know exactly how to treat a woman right. That dumbass of a boyfriend could never compare. James didn’t care about you, he was only focused on his own pleasure, but you know how pathetically he likes to brag about what a wonderful boyfriend he is. Perhaps you are not entitled to complain, you had cheated first, you are not good either but it’s worth it.

Every weekend the Millers have a family dinner, which of course being James girlfriend, you also get to attend those functions.

You are out on the back porch that oversees Joel’s beautiful lush garden, standing right by the railing, sipping on the aperol spritz that Jack had prepared for you. While the bitter sweet liquid easily goes down your throat, you watch James sit on a lounger by the pool, animatedly talking into his phone. Always busy talking to his bro’s.

As you frown into your drink you hear the glass doors slide open behind you. Picking up on their gruff, deep yet calming tone makes you immediately care less about the disappointment of another evening practically being ignored by your boyfriend.

Your frown turns into a smirk when they each come to a stop beside you and you can feel their eyes on the sides of your face.

They are equally accessing you, while you silently continue to sip on your beverage.

It’s funny, you are convinced that even if James would pay attention. Really look at you, he wouldn’t realize how not only his Father but also his Grandfather are undressing his Girlfriend with their eyes.

He is that dumb.

Joel is the one to break the peaceful quiet atmosphere. “Talkin’ to his goddamn buddies again, isn’t he?” A shiver runs up your spine from hearing his deep baritone so clear and close.

You scoff “Isn’t that what always happens, what did we expect, huh?”

Closing your eyes momentarily, you inhale deeply before continuing “But it’s not like I don’t have way better company, right?” You turn to Joel and then to Jack giving them both the smile they love seeing on your face.

“S’ right baby, you are in good hands.” Jack muses.

You look ahead smugly giggling.

“Why don’t you prove it?” It’s a challenge, would they dare to touch you when James is not far away. The flowy short skirt you decided to wear gave them the perfect opportunity and sure enough it didn’t take much longer before you felt two big warm hands slowly sliding down your back.

The sensation made your breath hitch and your mouth went dry, making you throw back the last bit of Aperol Spritz. Those big wandering hands made you feel incredibly flustered, you are pretty sure you must look like a tomato, all flushed. You could easily blame it on the unrelenting heat or the alcohol coursing through your body.

Both hands slipped past your skirt's hem, gently touching the back of your thighs and when they slide back up pulling the hem with them. One hand carefully stuffed the hem into the waistband of the skirt to secure it and you looked down at yourself to make sure the front looked unaffected.

Their hands are groping and kneading your ass cheeks so deliciously, it’s impossible to not get wet from their ministrations. Of course they can tell you struggle to keep your arousal concealed, your clenched thighs, elevated breathing, tense jaw and iron grip on the railing are already enough indication.

Either they had this situation all planned out or they are just truly that good at silently communicating. Without a saying a word, one hand move to pull your thong aside, while the other one sweeps through your moist folds, collecting a decent amount before pulling away.

Said hand which you now figure out belongs to Jack is held right in front of your face. You can smell the sweet-salty musk of your own juices on his fingers.

“Look at that baby, she’s messy, drooling all for us, ain’t she?” Your head turns to Jack, you are met with a questioning head tilt and a big smirk adorning his face. Whenever you look at them you ask yourself how you got so lucky. Jack, just like his Father, is insanely stunning. Fluffy dark brown hair, blue-grey eyes, a strong painted nose, his 3-day beard and those lips you loved feeling on your own.

It’s obvious that they enjoy playing with you.

“Go ahead Moon Love, say it, who does that little cunt belong to, huh?” He nods at you encouragingly.

“S.s..she he belongs to you” you nod stammering through the everlasting throbbing of your core.

“ ‘s a good girl, god job darlin’” Joel’s voice has your head whipping around to him. You can’t help yourself from smiling at his handsome face. Even though he’s 60 years old, you can’t deny how incredible attractive he is. His grey-white slicked back hair, the slight wrinkles around his eyes from smiling and that goddamn mustache have you wake in the knees. He’s a masterpiece.

You feel light headed, like floating, all from being sandwiched between them.

The three of you are swiftly pulled from the cloud y’all had been on by the sound of someone approaching.

Joel quickly slides your thong and skirt back in place, while Jack sucks on his fingers that had just been between your thighs. The obscene slurping noises made it hard to focus on James that suddenly decided he wanted to be part of the conversation.

You meet him halfway up the porch and he immediately slides his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

“What are we talking about,hm? Did Moon talk y’all’s ears off too about her new plant. Had that on the ride here.” He scoffs but tries to make it appear jokingly, when everyone already knows he is just being a condescending asshole for no reason.

“Nah was all us borin’ the pretty thing with our baseball nonsense, wasn’t it Jack?” Your heart soars at the way Joel perhaps not super subtly comforts you. He despises his Grandson for being such an inconsiderate boy.

When James acts like this, you feel less and less bad about what happens in secret and all the lies you tell him.

Whenever you leave for Joel’s residence you tell your boyfriend you just want to catch up with your old friends and like the idiot that James is, he assumes you’re going to Sammy’s. You met her when you went to school to become a Kindergarten Teacher, she lives a couple hours away, that fact leaves you with enough time to spend playing with your two favorite Men in the world.

Every week, usually once, sometimes twice when the desperate need to feel their hands on your body takes over you meet up with them. In the beginning Jack was not allowed to participate, no, he could only watch from his seat how his Father defiled that sweet young girl. As much as Joel wanted to share, he struggled letting someone else have a piece of the cake, you were his precious Angel after all.

It felt so good when Joel let him eat you out for the first time and judging the iron grip Jack had on your hips, he seemed to be very excited as well. Unrelentingly lapping at your core until you came on his tongue screaming his name.

The frustrating part was that they never worked on you at the same time, which something you wanted so badly, so Joel offered to get you there.

That’s how you ended up bent over, with your knees planted on his Lazy-Boy, you were facing away from him leaning on the headrest.

“Moon Love, i know ya want to get these slutty holes filled,” he said while dragging his pointer finger down your drooling pussy and circling your puckered asshole “But I gotta prep ya for that first, can’t jus’ take the both of us without any training,hm?”

You know he’s right, they would probably hurt you if the preparation gets skipped, besides who said that couldn’t also bring you pleasure.

“Yes, I’m sorry, you are right Daddy. How will you do it?” You look over your shoulder back at him kneeling between your spread thighs, you really want to know what he had planned.

“Atta girl,” as he rose to his full height he clasped both cheeks roughly giving them a generous squeeze and pulling them apart to get another clear look at your tight hole.

“Jus’ wait a second baby, I’ve got somethin’ for ya,” with that he lets go of you.

The air shifted and you felt another pair of calloused warm hands on your plush behind, just barely grazing you in passing. After rounding you, Jack came to a halt before you and even when kneeling on the Lazy-Boy the crown of your head barely reached his chin.

“What do you think he will do to me?”

You are nervously chewing on your bottom lip and Jack reaches up with two fingers to pull it free. With the same two fingers he cradled your chin and tips your head up. “Don’t worry darling, whatever the old man has planned for you will be enjoyable. Ya know he got that experience he always brags about.” He winks at you before softly placing a kiss on your lips. It might’ve been just a quick peck but you immediately feel put at ease.

As you hear Joel come back down the stairs, Jack leans in to whisper in your ear “I’ll stay right here keep an eye on you Moon Love, hm?” When he pulls away he slightly nudges your head, his cheeky attitude makes you giggle. That’s the sound he loves so much that sweet, soft and melodic laughter fills his heart with pride.

You mouth a silent Thank you up at him.

“Ya two lovebirds havin’ fun without me, huh?” You turn your head back to Joel as he’s sitting down on the stool placed behind you. Yeah you definitely know where Jack gets his cheekiness from.

You give him your best cheeky smile “Nuh uh, we would neverrrr do that Daddy,” as you start persuasively rocking your hips from side to side.

“Tsk,tsk what a naughty little tease we’ve caught ourselves here,” you enjoyed when they almost behaved as if you weren’t right there, bend over between them.

“Anyway, I got a lil gift for our sweet girl,” Joel reached behind himself picking up a small rectangular black box and a bottle of…lube? You start frowning “Why do we need lube?”

“Cuz that sweet ass won’t get wet like your pussy baby, we will need lots of lube to make sure you have a good time.” He nods reassuring and hands you the little black box “Go on open it, show Jack what’s in the box,”

So you turn around holding it up to Jack and shake it to see if there’s any indication through sound but nothing happens.

“Okay, come on baby stop playing around and open it I’m curious,”

You slowly lift the lid off and all you see is what looks like a half-moon shaped topaz diamond surrounded by some black foam.

“A diamond?” You are quite confused, both had gotten you gifts before but this seems different.

Joel laughs darkly while gripping your hips “Ain’t for ya finger Angel,” one of his big hands is placed on your spine urging you to arch your back more. Before you can even think about it any longer you feel something wet and warm flickering over your puckered hole. Joel’s tongue. His beard scratches your cheeks so nicely.

“Fuckkkk, th..that feels so good,ughh” you are unable to hold the moans back.

He alternates between using the flat of his tongue on your neglected core and the pointy end on your asshole trying to wiggle his way in.

“Yes, yes Godddd Daddy, don’t stop,”

The shock of the sudden unknown stimulation has you forgetting all about the black box, but luckily Jack is right there. You don’t even register that he has taken the diamond out of its foam casing, until something cold and smooth touches your cheek. When you look up at him he’s holding onto the moon diamond but now you can see that it’s a lot more than just that.

“Wh..what is that?” You struggle to formulate straight sentences with Joel treating your cunt but mainly your asshole like a 4 star dinner.

It looks like an oval shaped metal egg is attached to the diamond, you’ve never seen anything similar before. Jack chuckles at your surprised face “ ‘s a butt plug, sweetheart, used to stretch little holes like yours.” He starts tracing over your lips with the oval shaped ending “open up baby.” Jacks dirty words combined with Joel’s tongue have your thighs quivering, hands clawing at the top of the headrest, breath coming out in short huffs. You are close to unraveling and Joel can feel it by the way your holes are furiously clenching around his tongue.

You do without further notice, dropping your jaw, rolling your tongue out and letting Jack places the cold metal into your warm waiting mouth. You wrap your lips around the toy, sucking and swirling your tongue all around.

“Yeah, atta girl suck on it before we’ll plug up your little ass” he strokes the hair out of your face and pats your cheek affectionately, glancing down at you with an adoration that is strictly reserved for you.

Yes the three of you are doing something forbidden, something that should feel bad, but its more than just mindless sex, more than a impulsive decision. You love Joel and Jack, you’ve reached a point where you can admit to have fallen not only for your boyfriend’s Dad, but also his Grandfather. Sometimes you wish to never have met James, as his part in this situation is more than inconvenient but it was necessary.

You gasp loudly around the metal in your mouth when you sense Joel’s tongue being replaced by one of his thick digits.

“Hm baby, that ass of yours ‘s the best I ever tasted, a goddamn delicacy,” while he slides the tip of his pointer finger through your slit, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your asshole. “Look at how wet ya got sweet girl, all from that ass played with,huh?”

You reach a hand up to Jacks holding on to the plug, urging him to pull it out and once he dies you turn your head back to Joel.

He feels like the luckiest man alive when you gaze at his weathered face with your fucked out expression and gorgeous smile.

He grabs the lube bottle and tilts his head up at you “want me to put a finger in that tight hole, stretch it out more, before I push that plug in and send ya home to him.”

Before you even have the chance to respond, Joel has already squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your hole. You jump slightly at the cool gel texture that collides with your hot core. “Okay sweetheart, last chance, ya want that finger in your ass, yes or no?” Only now does it occur to you that he actually wants audible consent for what he’s about to do to you. It reminds you how precious this bond is, James, in comparison, rarely cared enough to ask you. He just took what he wanted.

As you continue to trace Joel’s face with your eyes, you reach a hand behind yourself to cup his scruffy cheek “Yes Daddy, I’d love for you to fuck my ass with your fingers, before you plug me up and send me back to him.”

On the ride back to the flat you share with James, you reminisce about how the evening continued to unfold. Joel didn’t just fuck your ass with one finger, no, in the end he stretched you till three of his meaty digits fit.

That alongside his eager mouth sucking on your pulsing clit and Jack whispering sweet filth in your ear, had you coming in no time.

When you started to come down from reaching that high, Joel slowly with more lube added pushed the plug into your winking hole. The previous penetration made it incredibly easy and rather pleasant than uncomfortable.

Before Joel called you an Uber, he gave you intensive instructions on how to use the plug the next few days to help make the goal of taking their cocks at the same time somewhat easier.

Of course to prove that you are a good girl for them, you did just as instructed. Spending every free minute bent over in front of the bedroom mirror alternating between using the toy or your fingers.

Now almost a week later you are currently getting ready in the bathroom for the weekly Miller Dinner, putting the finishing touches to your make up and adjusting your hair. The dress you want to wear already laid out, all that’s left to do is insert the plug and off you go.

James is so obvious he doesn’t question at all why you would be so excited for the routinely Dinner, practically buzzing in your seat, giddily singing to the music blaring through the speakers with a big smile plastered across your face. In your dream you’d like to sandwiched between them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all the time. You miss them the second you leave Joel’s house, only in their company you feel so light and free.

You almost run towards the massive entrance door after James had parked his car but stop yourself at the last moment, instead waiting patiently for your boyfriend to put his hand on your lower back and push you towards the house. When the door opens it’s as if all the stress from the outside world falls away, a big weight lifted off your chest.

Again, if James would be more observant he’d notice that the way his Father and Grandfather hug you is longer than appropriate. How their hands glide down your back to squeeze your ass, noses buried in your neck to get a good waft of that sweet bourbon vanilla perfume Jack had bought for you. Speaking of Jack he has the cheekiness to not simply grope your butt, no, he decides to feel for the plug and give it a push. All while James is right there busy taking off his shoes.

As usual, when you sit down to eat at the huge maghony dinner table, it doesn’t take 5 minutes before James pulls out his phone to text god knows who. His blatant disrespect used to upset you but his extra distraction now is more than useful now. While he’s talking without a pause about the great weekend he’ll have with his buddies just a couple hours away from Austin on a camping trip. You have already begun to tune him out as you discreetly slide your spandex covered foot up Joel’s shin, all the way up over his thigh until you gently tap at his crotch his bulge more than apparent.

James nagging voice addressing you directly pulls you from the cloud you had just been floating on “Babe you gonna be okay without me?” As if you hadn’t survived many nights without him. “Of course baby, I’ll pay a visit to some old friends.” You respond while winking at Joel and Jack, yes the weekend surely will be fun.

The first 2 days were spent like all the countless previous weekly hook-up meetings, they lapped at your pussy and ass, eating you for hours till you screamed from overstimulation. You of course got a mouth full of cock whenever you wanted, happily gagging on them. They alternated between fucking you, either Joel was pounding you while Jack watched or the other way around. If they got lucky you offered your pretty mouth for the one watching.

And the current position on Joel’s massive bed isn’t any less enticing, you are propped up on all fours. Joel’s hips flush with yours, one hand tightly gripping your hip while the other holds the clear silicone dildo he slowly inserted at the beginning of the night into your tight ring. Jack is occupying your mouth with his thick length, holding your face in his big hands, persistently hitting the back of your throat, in a rhythm that matches the one Joel uses to push against your G-Spot.

The room smells like sex, sweaty, stuffy and all that can be heard is slapping of skin mixed with the wet noises all three of your used holes make. Accompanied by the deep husky moans of both Jack and Joel. When Joel feels your walls tighten around him, the decision is quickly made to momentarily end the fun. Some silent communication must happen, because Jack suddenly shifts his hips back causing his cock to slip out of your mouth.

“You did so good for us Angel,” he leans down and presses his lips against yours briefly, a welcome distraction as Joel pulls the silicone toy from your ass.

Jack releases your lips “Okay baby, let’s get you in position, hm?” Yes you’ve talked about it, so Joel also shifts away leaving you with an empty feeling in your abdomen. He lays down on his back and you crawl on top of him, lifting up slightly as Joel lines himself up with your entrance. Jack settles up behind you grabbing your hips to help you slide down, “how’s it feel Moon?”

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder, biting your lip while your own hands

“F..Fee.. Feels sooo good,” you bend forward planting your palms on Joel’s shoulders “, butttt there’s something missing.” all while arching your back as much as you can without risking that Joel’s cock slides out of your core.

“Ah, I know what you need babygirl,” Jack grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and starts to squeeze a decent amount out onto his fingers, which then wrap around his length. The slick noise makes a shiver run through your body.

“Relax baby, keep breathing, okay?” His warm moist tip starts to push into your puckered hole, it is so different to the fingers or the dildo, a warm rigid shaft parting your walls. Everything overwhelms your senses, so you seek out Joel’s comfort, nuzzling furter into his neck and instinctively biting him. Not hard enough to draw blood but definitely enough to make him gasp.

“Moon Love, ‘s okay, ya takin’ it so good.” He soothingly rubs your arms with his thumb, drawing tiny circles.

With little to no time you get used to their rhythmic push and pull. Your moans have gotten so loud that surely the whole neighborhood is getting an earful. Even through the hazy arousal clouding your mind it’s not lost on you that Jack is enjoying the tight channel of your butt, it makes him feral. He reaches for your hair carelessly gathering it into a ponytail and pulling you up, it doesn’t hurt, no, the tingling of your scalp turns you on further. That increases when Joel’s lips wrap around your hard nipple and starts biting it.

“U..uh..ughh, soo goo-“ Jack cuts you off

“Yeah feels good having his mouth on those sugar tits,” you only manage a pathetic nod.

Jack let’s go off your hair and Joel stops the assault on your nipple. As you lean back down you give him your best smile, stopping at his pursed lips for a quick kiss. When you open your eyes so close to his gorgeous face all that is on your mind are those 3 words, the ones that have been there since the first moment.

One more peck and you disappear into the safety of his neck again. “I’m so close Daddy,” you hoarsely whisper into his ear. “Ya wanna touch your little clit baby?” You nod. “Nuh, uh Moon, use your words” he knows how hard you try to not let go. “Ple..Pleaseeee, can I touch my clit, please Daddy?” You sound close to crying so Joel decides to show some mercy. “Go ahead, touch that clit, make yourself come.”

You do, with only drawing a couple small circles you fall over the edge, twitching and clenching down hard on both of them. Jack and Joel follow you suit spilling deep inside your holes. The waves of your high are still cursing through you when some commotion forces you to find back to the present moment.

Jack and Joel don’t get to catch their breaths after filling you up. “Wha…What the fuck is going on here?” James furious voice cuts through the blissful quiet. Jack instantly pulls out of you with a hiss letting his cum flow down from your used asshole to your pussy still plugged with Joel’s cock.

James thinks it’s just him walking in on something strange. His Dad and Grandfather going to town on some woman, but when you lift your head and stare straight at him while his father’s cum is dripping out of you he feels sick. “Mo..Moon, wha..what is this?” he almost wants to take a step closer but stops himself.

You don’t have the energy to answer but it’s not needed James puts two and two together. Turning away running down the stairs. Jack stumbles of the bed, grabs his shorts and hurries after James “Wait, Please James listen son..-“ the rest is cut off as they are out of hearing range.

“Fuck,” you mutter closing your eyes and putting your head down “what’s gonna happen now?”

His hands smooth over the plains of your shoulders drawing shapes on your spine. “Don’t know baby, no idea what Jack will do. But i don’t care, as long as ya here I’m happy.”

You begin to place gentle kisses to the spot you bit him earlier “Sounds like a good plan to me,”

“Good, ya gonna be the last woman I’ll love Mooni,” you sit up smacking his chest “Don’t say that Joel,” while scoffing, he’s impossible making you all sappy after fucking you brainless.

“Wait,” you move his head with your hands to face you “, where did you get that Moon Diamond Plug. I’ve been meaning to ask.”

He shrugs his shoulders “Had it specially made for ya baby girl.”

You sigh dreamily “I love you Joel,”

Without missing a beat he replies “I love you too.”

This is what heaven on earth feels like.

©️ evolnoomym 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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[khaire-traveler]

Ok, I will try not to talk too much about this on here, since this blog isn't really about this type of content, but I need to nerd out to someone, none of my friends are into this, and this is my main blog, so here we go:

***BALDUR'S GATE 3 SPOILERS AHEAD; READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION***

This is mostly just me needing out and gushing, though, lol.

Ok, ok, so for the past five days, I have been fucking binge playing this game. I literally spent the first day I got it sitting around for, like, seven hours (don't be me, and make sure to get up for breaks if you're gonna do the same thing). I was - and still am - absolutely hooked.

I LOVE this game!!! It's the first DnD based game I've played, especially of this quality (even though my laptop runs it like shit and the lag is killer ☠️). I'm playing on Explorer, so it's been fairly easy and very story-focused. I find the lore so intriguing, and I'm so interested in seeing where the story goes! I haven't seen anything past the camp party after saving Halsin, though, so no spoilers please. 🙏

So, I started off with one playthrough, but I came in with the knowledge that you are able to romance the characters and such. I REALLY wanted to romance Astarion (as most people I see talking about the game lmfao), but my bitch ass just could not get his approval, no matter how hard I tried. It got to the point where he actually made fun of me after we saved Halsin and had the camp party. 😭 I honestly suspect he might've glitched out somehow, since I had read online that people have had similar issues with earning the trust and approval of companions. This definitely bummed me out, but I was still enjoying the game a lot.

Along with that, in my original playthrough, I literally forgot to seek out Lae'zel. I had planned on doing it, but I just didn't know where to go, and by the time I had met Gale, I honestly forgot about finding her because I had to get offline at that point. 💀 I felt really bad about it, and I only went to go look for her after saving Halsin because I was reminded of her, and she had already broken out of the cage and killed the two tieflings who trapped her. I felt so bad that I just left her there on her own all that time. ☠️

After realizing that I wouldn't be able to recruit her until a bit later, I just decided to restart my playthrough on different save files. I figured I'd also at least get a proper chance with Astarion as well (love him so much; he is my meow meow 💕), and all while still playing as the character I took quite literally two hours to make (I was very indecisive about them lol).

So far, the new playthrough has been going very well, and I'm actually pretty happy that I restarted, since I had also apparently missed the scene of Astarion sharing his vampiric nature as well as some very key information from, and about, Lae'zel. I'm only about seven hours in right now, but I feel like I've somehow gotten more done in this playthrough than I did in my original which had something like fifteen hours. I've explored places I didn't even realize existed, picked up a ridiculous amount of loot, and even acquired all the companion characters that I know of in the First Act. It's been extremely successful! Not to mention things with Astarion are going very well. 🥰

Anyway, I've been enjoying this game a lot! This is my first ever time playing it; I didn't have Early Access and hadn't even heard of it until my friend told me about it this past Sunday lol. I'm honestly really glad that I got this game, despite the price of it and the price I had to pay for a new storage drive for my laptop in order to run it. It was certainly lots of money spent, but it was definitely money well spent.

I feel like my perspective on the world around me has changed slightly from playing this game (in a positive way). I feel a lot more curious about things than before, and I'm more inclined to take spontaneous risks which has always been a struggle for me beforehand. I also kind of feel like I can talk to other people a lot easier as well, as strange as that sounds. I play a Bard in the game, so my character has high charisma and stops to talk to other characters a lot, and I'm not really sure why, but seeing my character interact so easily with others has kind of inspired me in a way and helped to make social situations a lot more comfortable for me (I have social anxiety, so talking to people has always been pretty tough). As unusual as it may sound, this game has already changed me in such positive ways as a person, and I can't wait to see what other lessons it may have to teach. ☺️

All of that said, I couldn't recommend Baldur's Gate 3 more! It's genuinely one of those games that I think anyone can pretty much enjoy, and I also appreciate how inclusive it is with gender stuff and queer relationships. The other characters even refer to me with the correct pronouns, despite me never needing to enter my pronouns in! It's a very impressive game, and the graphics are absolutely gorgeous (especially when your laptop isn't absolute shit like mine lmao). Frankly, it's just great!

Of course, being so new, it does have its problems. I've personally experienced lots of lag issues - dialogue and animations won't be in sync, characters taking a long time to go from one location to another, environments not loading in very quickly, etc. I've also had the game crash on me a few times, but I honestly believe it's more related to my laptop than it is to the game, and for the most part, it hasn't caused me too much grief.

Despite its flaws, I personally believe this game is very much worth a play. It's loads of fun, and the characters are pretty charming and entertaining. The storyline is interesting with lots of twists and turns, and if you ever get bored of the mainline quest, there are literally endless sidequests for you to enjoy. Exploration is highly encouraged, and as you explore the realm, your map actually reveals the locations you've been to. Fast travel is also a super great feature, although there are some locations I wish that were on there that aren't, sadly.

Ok, I've...talked a lot, so I'm going to stop now. 😂 Thank you to anyone who actually read all this, and I hope you have fun playing or watching someone else play, if you plan on doing either! Take care. 🧡🪽

[iwritewthwine]

Hey, you!

author's note: hey...I know this seems weird, knowing that I still have Run to you in progress and don't worry I am still writing it. This is just a random drabble I got an idea from Hoshi's Instagram story with the baby sparrow. This has no plot. Or well maybe little plot? Idk? It's just random. If you can tell I wrote this on a whim and you guessed it, wine, usually I check my work before I post it but if there miss-errors that's just because I missed it from the wine impairment. Enjoy, and now back to writing Run to you

Title: Hey, you!

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x fem reader

Genre: fluff, crack, angst(?)

Tropes: university students, student athlete, strangers to lover, damsel hoshi, strong female lead, modern fairy-tale, crush on wonwoo

Synopsis: he is a damsel in distress or what it may have seemed like and you were just passing by, happened to rescue him from his distress. Turns out, you're saving him more often you thought.

Warnings: nothing too drastic, a couple of swear words, peer pressure, bullying, Wonwoo is kind of an ass (I'm sorry don't hate me. I feel bad but it's for content), gender mistreatment

Word count: 6 k

Growing up, you always knew you weren't the princess type. Despite wondering and dreaming about being a princess, with butterflies and birds fawning at you and a charming prince coming to sweep you off of your feet. Well, yeah none of that ever happens, because even though you weren't quite the tomboy you did play a lot of excruciating sports. Football (soccer), football (aka American football), tennis, and a black belt in taekwondo. And with all those sports, you were also very spoken on ideals and opinions, standing up to bullies and helping people who needed it. This is where we are right now in your third year of University with a major in communications, at a sports game. Who is playing? The University women's football (soccer) team and you were in the middle of the action as a defender— currently playing as a left wing-back, dribbling the ball as you look for a teammate that seems appropriately open. Lobbing the ball across the pitch to an available teammate, rushing forward, and defending the other team's player from getting the ball. Eyes glued at the ball as it comes flying back toward your side of the pitch again, the ball soaring through and you knew this is a chance. Rushing near the goal and jumping in the air as you headed the ball into the back of the net for a goal. The score was a mere one to nil. For the full 90 minutes of the game, your team was in full-on defense mode, defending and keeping the ball in possession from the other team, keeping it one to nil.

“Y/n, that was great, so great. I could have been a little tighter toward the 70th minute and there were a couple of times you could have scored another goal but it was good. That header goal was amazing. The people around me were startled but I didn’t care.” He smiled widely, handing you your towel to wipe off the sweat slowly dripping down from your hairline and a bottle of water. “Tonight. At Seokmin’s place. There is a party. And since the team just won, let’s celebrate.” Seungkwan’s hands fisted into a ball, thrown in the air with a whoosh. Shoving the bottled water in his hand from acting too dramatic as he appears to do that a lot. Draping the towel around your neck and walking off with your duffel bag, Seungkwan trails behind you. “Ya, Y/n come on. You don’t have to drink. Just hang out a bit, have fun a bit, and make some new friends. Seokmin also mentioned that Wonwoo is going to be there.” Seungkwan’s eyebrows rose suggestively as your cheeks flushed at Wonwoo’s name. You have had a crush on Wonwoo for the longest time, you passed him in the University library quite a bit, only exchanging bows and stares and the occasional “hello”. He was so handsome and built, and also played for the men's soccer team and you always get butterflies when you see him from afar. However you never really made a move on Wonwoo, afraid that he might not like you in return and afraid that he might not like a type of girl who isn’t feminine. Seungkwan noticed your blushing cheeks, his grin widening as he shoves his shoulder against you. “So? Let’s go to that party and blow Jeon Wonwoo’s mind.” Linking his arm into yours as you both stride out of the soccer field and to your shared apartment. 

At the apartment, after showering, you stared at the reflection, not knowing what to wear to a party. You didn’t really own anything per se “pretty” and whatever you called pretty wasn’t pretty in other people’s eyes aka Seungkwan. As on cue, Seungkwan walks into your room, his head tilted as he stares at you, still in your bathrobe even though you finished showering like 30 minutes ago. 

“Well? What are you going to wear?” He asks. Stepping over to your closet and staring at the hanging clothes, scanning for anything, anything that will get you to stand out. “Hmm.” He hums, arms crossed over his chest. A quick glimpse at you and then back to your closet. “Oh, oh, oh,” he exclaimed. Shuffling your clothes around as he pulls out a couple of hangers with clothes hung on them. “I got it and you will look amazing and people will be like “oh mah gawd, is that Y/n? She looks so damn amazing and sexy and wow those curves” and then Wonwoo will fall head over heels for you and then the both of you will become the it couple on campus.” Seungkwan claps his hands together, shoving the hangers in front of you with haste. “Go and change. We don’t have all night!” 

Trying on the outfits that Seungkwan gave you, there were a few you don’t even remember buying, and some you wore at least once or twice and just hung them back inside of your closet and forgot about it. Stepping out of the bathroom and walking back into your room, Seungkwan’s jaw dropped at the sight of you. “Don’t even!” You protest. Feeling how tight the dress was around the curve of your waist and the hem of the skirt rolling up against your thighs. “I haven’t worn this in, I don’t know, months, also I think I gained weight, it’s tight around my waist.” You struggle to fix the dress around your waist and keep the dress from rolling up past your thighs.

“Shut up, you didn’t gain weight. Maybe muscles from soccer but you look fine. Also sexy too. Wonwoo is definitely going to have a mouth drop moment. He will definitely be seeing you.” Seungkwan walks over to your closet and grabs a light cardigan, handing it over to you in case you did feel insecure about the dress. He wouldn’t let you feel insecure about your body or the outfit, he was your best friend and he most of the time took good care of you.

Seokmin’s party was in full swing, there were a lot of people, and a few had brief encounters at the University library or just somewhere on campus. There was also the men’s soccer team that was present, despite Wonwoo being in the team. It always irks you that the men's team gets more attention and privilege from the University and people, while women’s teams are always in the shadows. It isn’t fair and quite sexist. Which is why your major is communication, the dream to reach out and inform the World that women are powerful and leaders. Seungkwan had already abandoned you, to which he said he wouldn’t and to help you get Jeon Wonwoo to converse with you. With a soda in your hand, you stare around the place, scanning for anyone that you know. Seungkwan was talking to the host of the party, Seokmin. You knew him from one of your classes and he has a sweet personality. Still scanning around, as you begin to feel a bit claustrophobic, soda in hand you step outside to the backyard. Taking a deep breath in and out, clutching tight to your soda with your eyes shut. Parties with a lot of people still give you anxiety, it was weird though, because with soccer games you were just fine— probably because soccer makes you feel good, it distracts you and with parties, it was just, well parties, having fun with people and interacting and introducing yourself to them. All of that made you anxious and a little panicky. Taking a soft sip of your soda, tilting your head upwards to look at the stars in the darkened sky. It was twinkling and bright, softly sighing and taking another sip of your soda when something pricked your ears at the sound of a groan. Curious at whatever that was, you made your way in an attempt to to know where that groan is coming from. Eyes widened at the sight, a small stature man, surrounded by a mob of people, either they are his friends or they are a bunch of bullies. Unsure of what it is, you make your way over with your shoulders and head held up high, placing your soda can on a nearby table. “Hey, you! Assholes! Want to pick on someone your own size, come and get me you fuckers, let’s see you get beat by a woman! I ain’t afraid of you asshats!” You shouted at the mob of people, hands in a fist and raised in the air as you stepped closer to the group and eyes glaring with flame as they scurry away, leaving the small stature man all by himself. He was swaying side to side, obviously drunk. Walking up to him, you steady him with your hands clasped around his biceps and they were pretty firm. “Hey, are you alright?” Tilting your head to the side to make eye contact with him, he had some beautiful eyes and the cutest button nose, and his cheeks were definitely flushed from whatever alcohol he was drinking. “I’m Y/n. Are you okay?” Softly smiling at him, his body sways side to side, eyes blinking to adjust his vision as he stares at you with widened eyes and mouth agape.

“Uh…Soonyoung. I am Soonyoung. I’m fine. Those guys are my teammates on the soccer team. I don’t really play. I’m more of the water boy but yeah.” He shrugs his shoulders softly, and your heart tugs at what he said. It was rude of them to pick on the water boy, as a water boy is still partially part of the team. 

“Nice to meet you Soonyoung and that is awfully rude. If they continue to be rude to you, you should just become the girls’ water person. We aren’t rude and will welcome you with open arms.” Chuckling at the thought of the women’s soccer team being more considerate and nice. “Let me get you some water.” Linking your arm with his’ as you escort Soonyoung inside, finding your way to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from a cooler to help him get sober. “Here you go.” Soonyoung took the bottle of water from you, taking a long sip as water dripped down the corner of his lips. He let out a soft exhale, hands gripping the water bottle. Finding him quite, well adorable. It was weird because it was Wonwoo that made you get butterflies, but with soonyoung, who you barely knew just literally 5 minutes ago is making you feel some sort of things you cannot comprehend. “Uhm, well, it’s nice meeting you Soonyoung.” The inevitable awkward silence flew in between the two of you, trying to think of something to say. A thought appeared in your head, or it was more of an idea. “Whenever I'm tipsy, I always go for tacos to sober me up and I am craving for some tacos right now. Do you want to go with me?” Soonyoung blinks his eyelids softly, his eyelashes brushing against his skin and his lips jutted out. He was cute in this form, his head slightly hung low and bobbing, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, softly grinning at the possibility of meeting someone so cute. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” mumbling the words out, Soonyoung tilted his head up, shaking his head with his hands waving in front of him. 

“I want to. I like tacos. I like you.” Soonyoung blinks again, trying to adjust his vision so he could clearly see you and not in a form of a blurred blob. Cheeks blushing at what he said, and a little confused if he meant it or it was the alcohol talking. Whatever it could have been, you shrug it off for now.

A dozen tacos settled on two trays, along with two large cups filled with Sprite, sitting side by side with Soonyoung in the seat booth. You try your best to not make eye contact with him as your meeting with him is still fairly new and unconventional. Taking a taco into your hand and stuffing yourself to avoid conversation, glancing to the side to see that Soonyoung has done the same. His cheeks all puffed out like a cute little chipmunk. Stifling back a giggle, you continue to eat the taco in your hands. Some awkward silence of eating tacos later, sipping on your Sprite as you contemplate on what to say to him. “How long have you been the waterboy for the men's soccer team?” Feeling stupid for asking such a question but it was the only known topic that made you feel confident. Soonyoung chewed on his tacos, his head turning to meet you, and gosh he really does have pretty eyes.

“Since freshman year actually. A lot of my friends are on the team and I'm not really great at sports so I volunteered to be the water boy and now I'm still in that position.” He shrugged his shoulders, taking another taco into his hands. “And, the guys before, they are also on the soccer team. They do pick on me but it's fine. They are kind of harmless and I am accustomed to it now.” Taking a bite of his taco, a soft up turn of his mouth into a smile. Your heart sinks at the mention of the team still picking on him, so what if he’s the team’s waterboy? A waterboy is still a team player and sufficient to the team. Huffing aloud, you slam your palms on top of the table, getting Soonyoung’s attention as he turns to face you with confusion in his expression and mouth chewing on the taco. 

“Excuse my language and manner but that is fucking messed up. So what if you’re the waterboy, it gives it no damn excuse to pick on you. Like what? Just because they’re stronger and play for the team they can just pick on someone who stands on the sideline, handing out water so they can stay hydrated, taking care of them. Preposterous! Ridiculous! Fucking asses!” Groaning loudly, brows scrunched up and nostrils flaring at the thoughts of people being stupidly rude, unknowingly as your hands tighten into a fist. Turning your body around as you face Soonyoung head on, minding his own business while munching on his taco, he glances sideways to meet you. Almost choking on his taco, he took his cup of Sprite to help with not choking. “If those players are picking on you again or remotely being asshats, send me a message straight away and I will run over to kick their asses.” Taking your phone out from your jacket pocket, unlocking it and finding your number in the contacts. “This is my number. May I?” Soonyoung stared at the half eaten taco in his hand, softly setting it down and wiping his hands and fingers clean with the napkin. Taking out his own phone and handing it over to you as you dialed in your own number into his phone, handing it back to him afterwards. “There. That’s my number.” Smiling at him with a slight tilt in your head, Soonyoung gulps softly, his eyes widening at you watching him. He never had a girl give him a number before or asked for his number. Wasn’t that what guys usually do though? Asking for a girl’s number and not the other way around? Whatever it is, he likes it and his heart pounding at how cute your eyes form into a crescent shape when you smile, and little dimples visible on your cheeks. 

The next day after soccer practice, you were walking out of the women’s training field by yourself since Seungkwan had a study date in the University library with Seokmin. The women’s training field and your dorm wasn’t that far, and you always enjoyed the walk with the slight wind breeze that accompanied. While passing the men’s training field, you slowed your pace, turning your head lightly to peek over the fence. At first your eyes trained on him, Wonwoo, he was really built and tall despite wearing sweats that covered him up. Running around the field, dribbling the ball and passing it along to his teammates, it seemed like any ordinary training session be whatever kind of gender. Well, the equipment was obviously different, a little more newer than the women’s training equipment. Still watching them practice from the fence line, when you noticed a couple of people walking over to the side and your eyes immediately trained on him, Soonyoung, he was there for their practice and in his hands looked like bottled waters and a box container, probably some snacks of some kind. Can’t tell what is going on as you're further away, and can’t make out the movements on the mouth, however one person was laughing from their head being thrown backwards. Wonwoo made his way over to the group, surrounding Soonyoung and even from afar you could see the wide smile that he usually has on his face. The guys were leaning forward towards him, their lips in a tantalize smirk. If only you could hear what they were saying. One of the guys took the box container from Soonyoung’s hand, opened it up and inside were tea sandwiches or onigiri (it was far you couldn’t see much). Taking one into their hand and a light nibble as they chuckled, placing the tea sandwich or onigiri back inside of the box container. Another person of the group turned towards Wonwoo, nodding their head in a kind of signal. Wonwoo steps up to Soonyoung, his arms crossed over chest and his facial expression deadpan as he looks at him. Something felt off, the way Wonwoo was acting towards Soonyoung and the way his lips pouted in a frown. Fingers clenching the fence tightly, and huffing profoundly at the sight, to think that Jeon Wonwoo is the person you liked. If he’s going to be an ass then you have no choice but to be an ass to him. Letting go of the fence as you power walk to the entrance of the field. Dropping your duffel bag at the side, storming forward with rage burning in your eyes. “Hey, you jerks!” You shouted, hands clenched in fists, cracking your knuckles softly as you walked over to them. “Even if he’s just the waterboy doesn’t give you any rights to bully him. I could tell that he has a better mindset than you jerks.” Voice ringing loud, the group of guys turned to meet you, confused and annoyed by your presence. 

“Why don’t you just leave here. This is for grown men, not for women on their cycle crying out just because of their hormones.” One of the guys said, sneering to himself and then looking at the others as they stifled a chuckle. 

Highly offended, and highly sexist, the audacity of these kinds of people representing the University’s soccer team. Rolling back your eyes and a tilt of the head, you stuck out your tongue lightly, tapping your foot against the turf grass. Taking a minute to exhale and inhale before you do anything too drastic, like punch them in the throat or their ball sack. “Oh, thanks for the friendly reminder for me to check my cycle. Maybe  you should check if you’re on your cycle too? Don’t men have their daily cycles too? Moods constantly shifting?” You sarcastically say, shrugging your shoulders as you bite back your tongue from saying anything more sinister. Eyes scanning over the group and your gaze reaches Wonwoo, who had stepped a little further back, his head slightly hung. Was he really participating with these clowns or is there something deeper that makes him swivel to their idiotic ploy? Then your gaze met Soonyoung, his head not hanging low as like Wonwoo, he was staring back at you with a soft smile and that made your heart fluctuate intensely. “Back up or you’re going to have to tell the local medical assistants that a woman beat you up. And I will and I can.” Readying your stance in a taekwondo position, hands tightly balled up with your thumbs tucked on the inside. Tentatively taking a step closer and swinging a high jab in their direction. The guys took a step back, glowering at you with hatred. “Fuck you” they said and walked away. As for Wonwoo, he stood in his spot for a second longer, gazing up at you with an unknown expression then walked away with nothing to say. Lowering your arms down to your side, taking in a deep breath, you watch Wonwoo’s retreating form and wonder what is going on his head. The man that you had a crush on during your first year of University, you even attended all of his games, fell in love with the way he was laser focused and that made you try out for the women’s soccer team. Knowing that you and him have the same activity and that maybe one day, he will notice you, offer to play soccer with him and the two of you end up as a power dynamic soccer couple. Only now it’s different. Turning yourself around, your heart still racing at Soonyoung’s presence, walking up to him sheepishly, because well, you offered to beat up some bullies for him and weren’t sure if what you did made Soonyoung scared of you. “Uhm…you,” taking another deep breath to calm yourself. “Are you okay? Sorry for what you saw and heard there. I was walking back from practice and noticed the men’s team practicing and, yeah.” Softly biting down on your bottom lip, gazing down at your shoes and the turf.

“I’m fine. I told you, it’s part of my job as the waterboy. The players hassle me here and there, I’m not really affected by it.” Soonyoung shrugged, lowering his body as he tilted his head to the side, trying to get a look at you. “Are you okay?” He asks. Taking a step closer to you with his head still at an angle and trying to meet your gaze.

“I am fine!” Eyes still fixed on your shoes when you see Soonyoung’s face below you, his mouth in a smile and his eyes sparkling and bright. Blinking at his sudden appearance, giving you a fright as your heart leaped out of your chest. Jumping slightly from seeing him, Soonyoung laughed at your action, stepping back and straightening himself. Slowly glancing up at him and seeing that he was still laughing, you glower at him with lips pouted. Seeing your lips, he walked over, cupping his hands on your cheeks and imitating your pouted lips on himself. Gulping softly at how close he was and his hands against your cheeks, and thank god they were covering your cheeks because they were definitely blushing and hoping that he can’t feel how warm it has gotten. “Hey.” Startling Soonyoung at your sudden choice of word, he let go of your cheeks, and picked up the box container that he had bought for his teammates. 

“Sandwich?” He offers you, glancing in the box and finally seeing the cute little tea sandwiches in them, varying in different types. Nodding your head at his question and taking a sandwich into your hand to munch on, as you were getting hungry from practice. “I guess I should have known I got picked on with these sandwiches but they are delicious and I just wanted to share them with my friends.”

Eyes widened at what he said, friends? He still thinks of those people as friends? They are basically bullies and he calls them friends? Even Wonwoo— you weren’t sure if Wonwoo did bully Soonyoung, he didn’t really do much, but he still in a way took part. Softly chewing on your sandwich, placing a hand on top of Soonyoung’s arm. “Those guys aren’t your friends if they treat you like that every single chance they get. Real friends only do that occasionally and know when to stop when things get out of hand. That did not seem like the case. If I didn’t interfere they could have done something worse. Does…” About to say something about Wonwoo to Soonyoung, you stop yourself and finish off the sandwich in your hand, to keep your mouth busy with something and not saying anything unnecessary.

Soonyoung placed the box container in your hands, taking one out for himself. “You can have the rest. I’m glad you like the sandwiches as much as I do. And thanks for everything. You probably think it’s weird but I like it. A girl rescuing a boy. And not to mention that the girl is beautiful. It gives the classic fairytale a good spin.” Coughing softly on your sandwich, Soonyoung looks at you startled, taking one of the bottle water he also brought and unscrewing the cap as he hands it to you. Quickly taking the water bottle and drinking down the water, getting a little splash down from the corner of your lips. Soonyoung clears his throat, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you as you also made him feel light and his heart also leaping out of his chest. “You good?” He asks. Watching you put up an OK symbol with your fingers. Closing the cap on the bottle water, his eyes scanning your lips as he closes the distance between the both of you, his thumb softly pressing against the corner of your lips as he wipes the water about to drip from there. Taking a step backwards to give you space after. 

Gently you pat your mouth after, making sure nothing else is there for him to do that again and even though you liked it, it was awkward. “Thanks. I should probably get to my apartment.” Closing up the box container, you shuffle away from him, heading towards your duffle bag that you dropped by the entrance. Picking it up and hurrying yourself out of the field and out of Soonyoung’s presence. “What is wrong with you?” You muttered lowly, shutting your eyes tight and hands gripping the handle of your duffle bag.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you but it’s kind of cute. Are you perhaps shy? And to think I was shy in front of you because you rescued me but after processing what happened, I kind of want you to rescue me again.” Lifting your head up, staring in shock at Soonyoung beside you, mouth agape and wanting to say something but nothing but air comes out. “Can I walk you to your apartment? It might be close to my place and the sun is setting. It’s cliche but you are alone and I don’t want anything happening to you too.” Mouth still agape, you were for sure your cheeks were bright red by now and your heart beating rapidly, ready to run out of you and run far far away. 

“Mm, yeah. I don’t mind. And you know, I already said it earlier but I do have a black belt in taekwondo. I think I can take care of myself if something were to happen. It’s you that should be careful.” Regaining your composure, glimpsing at Soonyoung beside you as he keeps up with your pace. Still in shock that he heard what you said and what he said after. Cute? Telling someone that they are cute after helping them from a rough situation? When you were younger and situations like what happened to Soonyoung happened, the other person would call you weird and that they didn’t need your help and for you to go back and play with dolls and dress-up. It’s why you end up playing sports, when you help others and are ridiculed for it. Sports were a distraction in a way, to keep your patiences at bay and you didn’t care if people called you beautiful or cute or gorgeous. However now, hearing it from Soonyoung, it felt different, like you don’t want to hide anymore. The walk to your apartment did take quite some time, and Soonyoung even noticed how far it was from the practice field. “Well, this is my apartment. Thank you for walking with me.”

“It’s no problem. It actually is close to my apartment anyways, I didn’t realize it until we passed that donut shop on 23rd street and fyi, I usually buy the cronuts not the donuts from there.” Soonyoung walked you up to your door, wanting to make sure that you got inside safe. Climbing up the stairs to get to your floor, the setting sun illuminates directly in your path giving your hair and body a type of golden glow. Soonyoung stares unblinking at you, watching you get the key out of your bag to unlock the door. He turns around to face the parking lot and the street, calming himself down slightly, he turns back around, leaning his back against the railing as he watches you opening the door to your apartment. “Well, I made it to my place safe and sound…” Standing with the door to your apartment open, frozen at seeing the sunlight glowing against Soonyoung’s back and the slight wind breeze rushing through his hair. He looked so ethereal and handsome just standing in front of the sun’s lights. A chirp catches your attention as two tiny sparrows fly by, one landing on the railing next to him and the other gently landing on top of his shoulder. Having noticed the tiny toes on his shoulder, Soonyoung turned his head softly to look at the sparrow. Quietly chirping and fluffing its feathers, the other sparrow on the railing flies up and lands on top of Soonyoung’s head. Unfazed, he stood perfectly still for the two sparrows, and upon how beautiful and bizarre this whole situation was, you took out your phone slowly from your pocket. Snapping a few photos of and a couple of videos, all while holding your breath to frighten the sparrows. Soonyoung saw your phone pointing at him, softly whistling a random tune for the sparrows with a light smile. 

“Mr and Mrs Sparrow, how was your day? Going back to your nest you say? I do hope your nest is warm and comfortable and somewhere safe. Do you have eggs in your nest? Oh, I see, still incubating them. They will become strong sparrows too.” Soonyoung spoke to the sparrows, as you recorded his shenanigans, holding in your laughter and trying not to burst out loud. As you carefully step closer, to film the sparrows and Soonyoung closer. Noticing you walking closer to him, Soonyoung turned his head towards the sparrow on his shoulder. “There’s this girl. She is very beautiful and strong and I don’t think she likes being strong and beautiful because it’s intimidating to others and I think she’s afraid she will get rejected by them. But I like it. I like her a lot. Mr Sparrow is Mrs Sparrow beautiful and strong to you?” He asks the sparrow on top of his shoulder as the sparrow chirps at him like it was talking back to him. “Oh really? Mrs Sparrow is strong and beautiful just like this girl? And what should she do to feel accepted? Uh huh, yeah, oh, I see, go on a date with me you say? I do agree with you but she might not want to…uh huh, I guess I will just to see then should I?” Soonyoung turned to look at you, your phone still aiming at him and still filming him talking to the sparrows. Stopping the record button, you set the phone back in your pocket. “Time to get to your nest you guys. Go.” A quick soft whistle, the sparrows fly off of his head and shoulder. He walks over to you, wanting to just run inside of your apartment but you don’t and just wait for him to be in front of you. 

“That is very impressive. Sparrows don’t usually land on people because they are skittish and know that humans are scary. They must have really liked you.” Staring at him as you make your breathing light and soft, not wanting to make yourself seem nervous. “I can send you the photos if you like. They actually look really good with the sun’s lighting and everything.” Laughing softly to defuse the nervousness inside of your body and mind. Looking unfazed and completely different to how he usually looks, he was in a way looking very smolder and hot, it was different from when you rescued him. He was all cute and bubbly, even when he was talking to the sparrows he looked so beautiful, something looked different and you weren’t sure on how to act. “Good night then Soonyoung.” Stepping back and towards the opening of your door, Soonyoung reaches out and takes your wrist into his hand, pulling you back towards him. 

“You don’t want to know what the sparrows told me?” He looked at you with an intensity in his gaze, it was incredibly sexy and a part of you wished to see the adorable side of him again because that side didn’t make you feel all sorts of things. “The sparrows said I should follow my heart. And my heart really wants to know where we go from here. I want to know more about you, I want you to rescue me again and I want to rescue you too.” The playful smile on Soonyoung’s face returns, his hand still gripping your wrist as he loosen it, sliding his palm down to meet your own. Intertwining his fingers with yours. “May I? Y/n.” His fingers were soft on your own, glancing down at them and how it molded nicely with your own fingers. 

Of all the things that you want to happen in your life, this wasn’t even close to one of them and currently it is the one thing you really want right now. The crush you had on Wonwoo, dissipating before you and the newfound interest in Soonyoung blooming within you. You might have met him in the most unconventional matter, rescuing him from mean bullies and that feeling of rescuing him started out as just standing up to people who uses torture for pleasure, especially one is intoxicated. After the rescue today, and having chatted the night before while binge eating on tacos, the rescue made your heart swell for Soonyoung and wanting to keep him as close to you as possible even if you were the one initiating the fight. “You aren’t scared of me?” Feeling stupid for asking such a question but it was the one thing that you needed to know, that someone isn’t going to be afraid of you just because you are strong and can fight. Soonyoung shook his head with a soft chuckle. Pulling you closer to him, his knees softly bumping into your thighs. 

“Why would I be scared of you when you literally rescued me twice.” He shook his head again, displeased with you that you would even ask such a question. “You being strong and can fight is what makes you attractive.”

sucking in a deep breath, your eyes getting misty from his choice of words, with your fingers still clasp in with his’ as you think of what to say to him. “You aren’t joking are you?” Again another stupid question that makes you question yourself on why you even think about what to say when it’s just going to come out stupid. Soonyoung huffed out, clearly tired of your questions and self doubt. “Let me show you then” he whispers as he closes in on you, his lips pressing against your own. His lips were soft and for some odd reason it smelt like strawberries, for one it wasn’t you because your chapstick scent were the unscented ones. Lightly shuffling your feet closer, and moving your linked hand with Soonyoung’s hand to the side as you keep your lips against his’, continuing to kiss him with fervor. A light moan escaping your lips, Soonyoung pulls away, a soft smile on his mouth as he pushes you inside of your apartment and closes the door after him. Pulling you back into his embrace, letting his forehead rest against your own. “I guess you aren’t joking.” Chuckling softly, he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Nope. When I want to joke I will and this, with you, I’m not joking. I really like you Y/n.” 

Your heart fastening as he speaks, mouth slightly agape with his forehead still resting on your own. You were spiraling, but a good kind of spiraling. “I like you too, Soonyoung. Beyond what I could ever imagine. And I will rescue you again if I have to.” Adding that last part for laughs, and getting a soft peck to your lips from Soonyoung as he smiles at you. “I cannot wait,” he says, taking your lips back into his. Moving your hands up his chest as you softly push him towards the couch in the living room, getting him to fall back on the cushion. Grinning mischievously at him, sitting down upon his lap with your legs capturing his hips and arms flailing around his neck. Softly pressing down against his crotch, you find your lips against his neck, kissing and sucking at the skin between his neck and his clavicle. Soonyoung’s hands moving over to your hips, grasping you tightly in his hands. “I like this.” You muttered against his skin. “Me too” Soonyoung says after, one hand of his sliding up your back.

[stainedglassthreads]

for the character asks: Toriel :)

if she’s already been requested, how about Ralsei or Asgore?

Toriel has not been taken yet, but thanks for giving me an excuse to talk about her. I think I'll do both her and Asgore.

Toriel

favorite thing about them: I love the way that, while her and Asgore's kids are very much her and Asgore's kids, they're not carbon copies of each other either. I also love how, despite being compassionate and nurturing and moral, monsters in the Ruins describe her as 'intimidating' while flavor text describes her as acting 'aloof'. It's such a shame that a lot of fanworks don't really go into the more unemotional and distanced aspects of her personality.

least favorite thing about them: I wish we saw more of her grief in-game, rather than implied by extra content. I also have to admit, it's kinda sad that most of her development happens offscreen, and her confrontation with Asgore is more comedic than emotional and meaningful. Toby is great at creating these characters who have all these depth if you dig into them, who the fanbase proceed to take at face value.

favorite line: "What are you doing? Attack or run away! What are you proving this way? Fight me or leave! Stop it. Stop looking at me that way. Go away!" (Love how it parallels Asriel's boss fight dialogue.)

brOTP: Toriel and Sans. Obviously.

OTP: None. Aroace queen.

nOTP: Despite thinking that exploring their relationship has a lot of potential, I think most Post-Pacifist Asgoriel does a really, really, really bad job of exploring their relationship. With a few particulars in mind…

random headcanon: Like Asriel and Asgore, she too has a weapon she can summon and fight with. It's a big fucking anime sword. It's just the goddamn Dragonslayer.

unpopular opinion: She is the Dreemurr portrayed as a 'good person' most consistently, but she's mischaracterized and flanderized just as often as the rest of the family. Also where are the Toriel-centric AUs that have zero romance. Where are they.

song i associate with them: Just Another Day and I Miss the Mountains, both from Next to Normal, feel apt.

favorite picture of them: don't really got any

Asgore

favorite thing about them: He's Just Some Guy. Toriel paints him as a remorseless villain. His subjects paint him as a savior. But he's just. Some guy. You find him watering the flowers. He sees his dead child in you. He tries so hard. He wishes there was another way. He's damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. He remarks that today's a perfect day for catch, shortly before trying to kill you. He gives you every chance to turn back. He chooses not to dodge. His attacks leave you with 1 HP.

He still has to kill you.

He still can't.

He still might.

least favorite thing about them: Release the Forbidden Ending where he adopts Frisk and we get to spend time with him like we did Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, and Sans, Toby. Release the Forbidden Ending where Flowey is left fuming with jealousy and rage because BOTH his parents tried replacing him. RELEASE THE FORBIDDEN KING DAD ENDING

...Also I want Asgore dodging onscreen, reminding the fandom that yes. He is capable of dodging. It's just that you remind him of his dead child.

favorite line: "Birds are singing... flowers are blooming... perfect weather for a game of catch." Original flavor gets overshadowed too damn much by Sans' version.

brOTP: Asgore and Undyne. Asgore teaching Undyne how to kick his own ass and being proud when she does. Asgore desperate yoinking Undyne out of his kitchen. Asgore teaching Undyne piano. Undyne making friends with two people who might remind her of Asgore.

OTP: I don't think I really consider it an OTP, I don't go looking for content of it or anything. But Asgorudy's kinda sweet. Two older men who had some rough past experiences with love, who fall in love with each other.

Sansgore also has potential, methinks. Imagine the comedic awkwardness of Toriel and Asgore having to make up with each other not because Asriel was revived, not because they're getting back togther... but because Sans is dating Toriel's ex.

nOTP: I don't hate Kingdings but every time I see Gaster imply that Toriel never loved Asgore, or that Asgore was too good for her, I start hissing.

random headcanon: The reason he keeps giving children too much responsibility is that, due to a crippling lack of people in positions of authority in the war, he was dumped with the responsibility of housing and fielding complaints of monster refugees. I also like the headcanon he had a stupidly large number of older siblings in line for the throne before him and wasNEVER meant to be king.

unpopular opinion: He and Toriel and more similar than they are different.

song i associate with them: I've Been. Also from Next to Normal. "And I've never had to face the world without her at my side/Now I'm strolling right beside her as the black hole opens wide/Mine is just a slower suicide..."

favorite picture of them: I like his battle sprite. I like how he can't even look at you.

[gwynpool]

maybe i missed it but has anybody else noticed the main captain america (and from the looks of the new thunderbolts, he's still influential) as a bi bucky steve pride flag as his twitter banner?

i bet it explains a lot, like why some of the most popular posts here + tweets ive seen abt SoL throughout its run have been st*cky/st*ckybait content...

with the mcu synergy everywhere like how JMS' cap run is describe as a lot of 1900s stuff (maybe the century game stuff has time travel?) + how TB team is an MCU copy, how much you wanna bet they're gonna continue the st*ckybaiting and retcon the past to be more like MCU, like getting rid of soldier Kid Bucky 😔 or something... cuz TB keeps getting described as a sequel to Steve's comic and... that means Mr. St*cky Pride Flag in twt banner is still a big player when it comes to cap stuff 😤

i think it’s a mix of the two captain america shields + ws’ logo but yeah, at first glance it does look like a st*cky header and the bi flag colors

the person who runs the captain america twitter acct has always been obv about their bias towards that cursed ship. maybe they’re fans before the run, maybe a higher up told them to only focus on those panels…whatever the case, they only post about that, and rarely did for cap sam even tho the two runs were simultaneous

maybe this will bite me in the ass but i want to give JMS the benefit of the doubt about his cap run. recently he did tweet about the difference between the comics and the mcu in regards to steve and bucky’s relationship. maybe i’m overreaching but i did take it as JMS not in favor or at the very least indifferent to how people perceive their relationship in a romantic aspect. i am expecting JMS to include bucky as much as he confirmed including sharon in the new cap run, but only for the reference to the previous cap run (for bucky’s appearance/mention).

on the other hand, i am probably 80% certain there will be more st*cky panels in L&K’s TB run, either flashbacks or what not. and that’s why i’m not exactly all that happy about that run. not for sharon and not for buckynat.

[sweetbunanarchy]

LET THERE BE ANARCHYYYY

I can’t make like video essays and continuously make threads on twitter and bc of that I am deciding to ramble about my fav things if I’m not posting art bc ay no word limit so FUCK IT WE RAMBLING ABT ANARCHY BAYBEE

The one game that never leaves my mind and the one that inspired my latest username so lets just talk abt real quick :D

When I was in middle school I would get into a good chunk of things like anime, other games. Bc I didn’t have certain systems like most ppl I would just watch gameplays and cutscenes for them in get into them that way. I stumble across a game called MadWorld and immediately become OBSESSED, the style of black & white with the only color splattered everywhere is RED MWAH BEAUTIFUL MY LITTLE BRAIN WAS EXPLODING and not too long after that I learned that there was a continuation of sorts for it...Anarchy Reigns. You know how you take like your ocs and put them in like a whole ‘nother universe, kinda like an au situation yeah that’s what Anarchy Reigns is GBSJDNJF It’s post post-apocalyptic, chaotic and just hell of a lot fun to just look at. But the main charm of it is the characters themselves and how fun and unique they are just in design alone

While the game isn’t story heavy it still has a plot to follow that works imo! Now you’re probably asking (probably not but) “BUN! This looks cool, but why after so many years as a grown ass man are you still so obsessed with a game you didn’t even get to play?” And to that I say....it’s bc of him-

YES ITS BC IM GAY FOR THIS MAN N HE’S THE BLUEPRINT FOR MY ATTRACTION TWORDS FICTIONAL MEN

Visually his design and how big he is (7′2 LOR D HAVE MERCY), his overall design, how expressive he is, hIS CHAINSAW ARM GOD ITS ALL SO DAMN GOOD!!!!!! In MadWorld he’s passed off as this cold-blooded killer bad ass which is sexy as fuck but in AR they give him more depth by giving him a daughter, Stella, and we see a softer, more kind side to him only to see him lose his daughter and through the campaign he runs on grief and rage wanting to get revenge on the bastards that took the one thing that he cared for. THE CAN’T EVEN SMOKE ANYMORE BC STELLA DIDN’T LIKE HIM SMOKING N ITS AAAAAAAAAUGH It’s something that comes off as simple but still just sweet and sad at the same time. 

And again the other characters are really good as well but just none of them hit me as hard as Jack did bc of this development he got and if we ever got more content for this game I woulda loved to see it for other characters BUT it’s long gone AGHBDJD. As much as I want platinum to bring it back I know they won’t bUT I CAN STILL DREAM DAMNIT...just hoping they don’t mess it up as Bayo3 bc lord that is a whole nother can of worms for another day. BUT ANYWAY Anarchy Reigns overall has a near and dear place in my heart and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t one of the many things that inspires me as an artist, I miss this shit so damn much and still crossing my fingers for something, if not the AR or MW then...just something of Jack PLATINUM PLEASE-

[kiwiwola]

What i like making

Ok. It's a Sunday, it's snow-raining, I did exactly one (1) chore, so I want to sit down and thing about what...I'm missing in my art-making.

I've managed to get out of the rust phase--the tea shop I found that opens late has made it easier to just plug in and do the thing more regularly, without having to battle the big "getting set up" (and getting distracted) obstacle I usually face. And I've been mostly focusing on doing studies, which also makes it easy to slip into the same brain mode each time and just go. But I feel like, now that I've gotten some of that rust off, I want to be able to use this non-rusted state to start drawing the things I want to draw. The things I haven't had time for.

Only...I can't seem to remember what that is. I look back in my sketchbooks, and I don't find any unfinished threads that I feel compelled to pick up again. That is, I think, what I would usually do in the past--find something I want to redraw, or an idea I want to expand upon or grow, and continue to flesh it out and create iterations on it. But there aren't a lot of those things I feel like doing anymore, at least not right now.

So I'm sitting down today to try and...look at the things I created before and not necessarily find things I want to continue or iterate, but to analyze what I enjoyed in the past, so I can figure out where I can nudge and direct my art-making now to make it enjoyable again, but for present me, who is different in interest, situation, and capacity than past me.

~

The first thing I would say that has always been really helpful for me is my...I'm not sure what to call them, me-as-a-fish-person-processing-life-and-existential-dread comics? They're not comics, and sometimes I don't draw a fish person anymore, but I've been doing them since...I think college now. They kinda sit somewhere between doodling and journaling. I talked with my therapist recently about how even though I don't always enjoy the process of making one, having made one helps put distance between myself and a difficult experience, or give form to feelings I don't easily know how to describe so I either stuff them down or let them run rampant. It's also kind of a low-stakes way to experiment with sequential story-telling, the "how do I arrange this so it shows what I want to show, and creates the feeling I want to share?" which is a sort of problem-solving I enjoy. There's a couple of old memories that have bubbled up in the last few days that I think I would like to do this with.

And i really like drawing fanart of characters I want to see more of, and imagine more of. I think I haven't done this lately because I haven't really watched/read/played anything lately. I like seeing and redrawing moments that imagine particular moments with more animation-esque expressiveness and reactivity. I think I've wanted to do this with some of the Chinese costume dramas I've been watching, but so much of it (the costumes, the poses, the backgrounds) is out of my wheelhouse I'm not sure how to get there. I've done a few studies that I haven't really liked, but maybe if I sat down and set about focusing on learning these parts more conscientiously (so not just sitting down and drawing a scene and going "I am studying all the things in this scene by drawing it," but focused on fabric and the costumes for awhile, focused on poses and landscapes specific to this genre for awhile) it wouldn't feel like I was failing each time, completing the study but without actually learning how to do the thing in a transferable way.

I like doing fanart of like, dumb goofy shit too--I think that's one of the things I loved back when I was actively watching/drawing Critical Role stuff, just drawing goofy-ass shit that made me laugh to hear or imagine. There's been some moments when I'm watching a game or art streamer, and I've wanted to draw just a goofy moment or comment. I feel like when the content of the stream isn't fictional though (like with a dnd game), that might be..kind of weird? Idk. I worry about there being a sort of parasocial element to that. Maybe that's one I'll keep in a physical sketchbook, then. And you know, the more I think of it, it may sound weird to just like..draw quotes and moments from a stream but it's really similar to how I took notes during lectures all throughout school tbh--I'd either draw alongside my notes, or draw stuff to emphasize certain quotes or ideas, or little historical figures or authors saying the points. Huh. Can't believe I never made this connection before.

I want to play around more freely with color, find what sorts of vibes different color palettes bring. And i want to discover this through exploration, and not by looking at a bunch of premade palettes, necessarily. I was noodling around in a new sketchbook yesterday with some markers, and thinking of what color to use or add, and the question "what does this need?" came up in my head a lot as I was thinking. And there is a big swirling pot of colors in my head. And I think "well the color I've used here is light and pale and cool--let's keep the palette cool. I will go with a blue, because it's muted enough to look like a green in the shade. And if put this purple over it, this purple is a bit closer to crimson than blue, and is more vivid, so it will look nice for patterning but also give a bit of a vein/living organism vibe. The green at the top I want to feel different, because it's a fabric--so it's a very bright green, slightly warmer, and the purple or blue can be used to create some dark parts, the way a satin ribbon has some very shiny parts but also holds a very lush dark in shaded parts sometimes."

When I use a premade/predecided palette, I find I miss out on this fun brainstorming/breadcrumbing process of...figuring out what particular color I want to add next based on both what I've put down so far and what feeling I'm trying to evoke or material/substance I'm trying to portray.

I think...those are some good nuggets to start with for now.

[ramrage]

now tht the dust has settled..... thoughts on mwiii campaign ?

oh god this has probably been sitting here for 27 years, hasn’t it?, my apologies—tumblr mobile is super ass and butt with highlighting inbox notifications, even tho (to me!) theyre the most urgent but WHATEVER!, anyways thank you so much for the ask, the fact that people care about my opinions on anything is so flattering, so i smooch and kiss your head, basically

full, rambling essay (which tbh is way longer than it needs to be) below the cut

id be lying if i said i was pleased, and this is coming from a fannish perspective /as well as/ a plain ol’ gamer perspective.

starting with the fandom bit, specifically The Culling of Soap, because i assume that’s what youre here for:

so, im a complete and utter fool and actively sought out spoilers despite not wanting to see them, so i already knew soap was going to kark it. it is what it is. my hope—tho tbh, it was more of an assumption—was that it was at the very least going to come with nice, high-quality emotional moments to fuel the ghostsoap fire.

which would make sense, no? this was only the 2nd campaign ive ever played, but going off the writing in mw2 and the few scenes ive seen from the 09 campaign, i assumed they’d give a main character’s death a bit of care. like a whole ass heart-wrenching cutscene right after soap got shot. and they really could’ve.

how it went:

- little cutscene with soap (kinda anticlimactically) playing the hero and then getting shot

- return to regular gameplay in which you have to literally just. press a button or two.

but why couldn’t all of the above been a cinematic? like, the gameplay task wasn’t remotely challenging or engaging—it didn’t add to the experience. i can say that it reminded us that we were, in fact, playing a video game and not watching a movie, but?? who the fuck cares? the campaigns shine because they marry visual narrative storytelling with gameplay. ideally, you take the best bits of both to create a whole greater than the sum of its parts, but imo, that was very much not the case.

instead, they used the ash spreading scene as the emotional suckerpunch but omg I am so sorry, that nonsense was BEYOND corny. I was genuinely waiting for the soulful bagpipe rendition of Amazing Grace to start up (as is the tradition for at least irish catholics. i reckon the same goes for their scottish counterparts).

I must recognize the scene’s silver lining, though. That’s right. Three cheers for Ghost looking like the saddest wettest cat to have ever worn BOOHOO MAN joggers. Great choice, by the way, to put the boohooing man in boohoo man. Gotta give it up for that.

But overall, I was rather disappointed by the lack of banter in this campaign. Evidently, there was more banter that I missed, presumably because my style of play is running in guns blazing, screaming “LEEEROY JENKINS”

Which brings me to the Gameplay Section

It was a lot like DMZ! I like DMZ! Which is really fucking lucky because here’s a comprehensive list of mwii and mwiii game modes that are a lot like DMZ

- the campaign

- resurgence

- battle royale

- zombies

- co-op missions

- raids

and now for the game modes that /aren’t/ like DMZ

- multiplayer

I understand the Paper Pusher Powers That Be rushed development severely, hence the massive amount of reused/repurposed content, but like. I don’t care? Fuck that. At the end of the day, we were offered an expensive-ass bowl full of leftovers mixed with heat-and-serve frozen dinners. Not cool, man.

It makes me extra-pissed hearing that the developers got worked to the bone for this, and it pisses me off that they’re receiving a great deal of the heat re: the game sucking. It’s /so/ not their fault that corporate did as corporate does, that being focusing on the money instead of the quality of the product. y’know, the thing that actually compels people to spend money in the first place.

I have no idea how or if they plan on salvaging this, but I hope they do. It’s pretty damn embarrassing if they don’t.

[jeff-from-marketing]

Hey I wanna talk games! This time a game that is so dead it’s actually sad, because the game was fucking awesome. But hey! Not tabletop this time! 

So the game I want to talk about is this little gem of a nugget called The Secret World, and it’s genuinely one of my favourite MMOs I’ve ever played. Short version of the premise is “hey, y’know every single myth, conspiracy, and legend you’ve ever heard of? well all that shit is real my guy.” And it fucking leaned into that shit real hard!

Your three player factions consisted of 1. the actual Illuminati, yes they’re real. Any conspiracy you can think of related to them is probably also true.  2. the Templars, no not the Knights Templar, they make sure to remind you that order died out centuries ago. These ones are more likely to hire a witch than burn them at the stake. 3. the Dragon, a society based entirely around the whims of chaos and the cycle thereof. 

So wait, the Illuminati is real? The Templars actually exist? Demons, the undead, the unfathomable, all of that is true? How have I never heard of that! Well, the orders that be wouldn’t be doing their job right if you knew. After all, this side of the world isn’t called The Secret World for nothing. This game absolutely revels in mystery, and I love it for that. 

So many of the quests you come across are puzzles to be solved in one way or another, you’re expected to investigate everything, take down notes, and research to find answers. The game came with its own web browser and it absolutely expected you to use it! And I absolutely loved that. Yeah you still had the option of your standard kill quests and quests to fetch seven boar asses, but those (for the most part) were options. The best quests are absolutely the ones that involved solving a mystery, and that was definitely a very solid chunk of them. Sure some of them were a little obtuse sometimes, but overall they breathed so much life into the game, especially if you were used to standard MMO quest design. And luckily, the main story quests were almost always this style of quest. They still stick with me even years afterwards. The one where I had to pull up a morse code translation sheet, or look up Bible verses to find relevant passages to a clue, or one where I had to die so I could speak to a ghost.

Of course, good story and storytelling can only go so far, was the game itself any fun? Oh fuck yeah my fellow beings. So to start with: no classes. There were 9 main weapons in the game, each with their own sets of skills and abilities, and you could pick any 2 weapons. From there, you’re free to mix and match active abilities from those two weapons as much as you’d like, and you can use passive abilities from any weapon. There was so much build variety and customisation available, build crafting was just one of my favourite things to do and I absolutely spent way too much time looking through abilities to create a new build. Group content was fun, world events were fun, it just a good time overall! The combat probably wasn’t the smoothest compared to a lot of modern MMOs, but it was still satisfying enough.

Unfortunately, all of that was apparently just too good. At some point, the company announced Secret World Legends: a reboot of The Secret World that was supposed to throw on a new coat of paint and refresh systems to de-jankify them I suppose. Wow it did not do that. What it did do however is kill everything unique about The Secret World. Those cool mystery quests that I still remember fondly today? Gone. A really indepth build system that allowed for huge amounts of customisation? Gone. Replaced with a really bad class system that doesn’t even begin to cover the same amount of depth. The perfectly serviceable even if not top-tier combat? Somehow they just made it worse. You get like, An Ability, maybe two. Oh and like every weapon’s gimmick is now all 100% RNG based. Yay.

I do miss this game. Last I checked, it’s technically still running if you owned a copy, but it’s no longer available to buy officially and it’s no longer supported. Last time I tried to play, it just kept crashing. Which is a shame, because I’d love for more people to be able to experience this gem of a game.

[didsomeonesayventus]

What have you been up to? Ramble away about your current interests my friend 👉😎👉

uhhhhhhh well. in the years since consistent activity I have:

Started, Subscribed, and MSQ/Major sidequest Cleared FFXIV and it occupies my brain like a parasitic worm (but I love it) as goes most people who get into it it seems. For those wondering started with WHM and have run it through just about everything so I'm fairly confident I am at least Somewhat Competent in pretty much everything except Savage and Alexander raids (shudders in Eyes of the Creator if you know you know)

Not only that but have main 5 categories of battle class leveled- WHM for healer, PLD for tank, MNK for melee, DNC phys ranged, RDM caster

I should stop talking about FFXIV help

I think I've changed jobs??? still call center-based work boo been there two years and I Hate It Homie (but hey 16/hr without a degree is hard to beat)

my cringe ass ff.net is poised for deletion as I've got ebook back ups of everything I just can't commit yet (and might not have to since I hear. Gasping Dying rumors about ff.net being on last legs)

I've developed a hobby of making FEH wlw ships- Azura/Deirdre, Mathilda/Lilith, Nagi/Natasha, Felicia/Selena (sacred stones) to throw some out -and stubbornly want to write fic but can't seem to figure out how to finish it oops

also generally feel awkward posting on AO3 because I don't really agree with their "you can write fic of actual people" stance but also Where Else Post Fic but also jokes on me I can't finish fic anymore

speaking of I did contribute to a zine or two with the Invincible Zine group over on twitter a handful of Duo Unit scripts and a 5k one shot on the Horrors of Adrift Corrin

("Katie isn't that the "uwu" corrin alt that looks after baby azura what is possibly horrifying about that" you ask and to which I respond "eldritch horror of being a dream-based sentient clone made real babeyyyyyyyyyyyy" and I didn't even use all my concepts and ideas)

Genshin Impact made a character I finally was willing to eat the lore for Miss Shenhe I love you so much what a wlw icon I think I did reblog something of her earlier but yea love

Played through Persona 5 Royal was a good game but I have never seen a game Say So Much and Nothing At All at the same time while also contradicting itself (and somehow in 100+ hours of gameplay even on 2nd easiest difficulty and w/ a friend and a guide hello). Core cast is poggers tho love these high schoolers and I don't think anyone would be surprised to hear I love futaba the most

Have kinda accepted that I've fallen out of love with KH and frankly don't feel a lot of hype for 4. 3 was a solid gameplay entry with some neat use of worlds for the filler plot but the more time goes on the more disappointed I get with how it handled resolving anything from all the build up, shafting it in favor of setting up a game that doesn't even exist yet.

Because of this I REALLLLY loved Endwalker and was very happy to play it on release (oops back on XIV braincell)

I do miss RikuVen tho and think about how Re:Mind validated the hell out of me by confirming Riku hung out with the Wayfinders and to the lil guys out there making content big fucking salute I'm sorry I'm a bitter woman who couldn't handle expectations.

Have a wild ass idea about XIV/Fates crossover to give an excuse for Ysayle/Corrin to exist they are just about perfect together but can't quite figure out how to make a plot to justify it that I'm satisfied with

I made a quotes bot on twitter that may not last much longer but eh

Gotten really into The Oh Hellos not out of any christian love but moreso the lyrics are just (chef kiss)

TAZ Ethersea season one was. Okay? It started really strong but fell off like the shoreline which was. sad. I can hope season 2 learns better from the mistakes there but also can't be too mad improv-based storytelling is hard to 100% nail

is that everything? I think that's like everything. still me just now several years older and just a smidge wiser and man I'm gonna be 26 in like. a week.

oops.

[poohbea]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍.

geto suguru | angst | detective!au

wordcount: 1.8k

content: detective!geto, criminal!reader, established backstory, implied past relationship, a knife is used, swearing, trespassing, just a lot of stuff they haven't really worked through

synopsis: a life of crime wasn't necessarily your first choice, but after the hard life you've lived it seemed to be the only option. but this however, makes you a target and the one taking aim is an old flame.

note from pooh: this was a bit of an unplanned release, i think i wanted to expand it a bit more but after a little more thought i kinda liked it being something short and sweet like this. this was inspired by an old work of mine for something personal i had been working on (i have a few of those). but it came out lovely, so as always...

Hope you enjoy ♡ reblogs are greatly appreciated

You perused the farmers markets of Manila, tugging the hood of your jacket over your face, blending yourself into the crowd. The owner of a fruit stall greets you kindly, offering you the specials of the morning. Thanking him coyly, the glossy produce shines in your hand as you turn it, inspecting it so thoroughly you miss the body leant against the post beside you.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you l/n?” The man in uniform eyes you up and down, hands buried in his coat pockets.

You smile. “Well, it did take you this long…” Placing the fruit back down on the stand you continued your stroll along the various stalls, eying their vibrant goods curiously. All the while trying to maintain your composure around the familiar bounty hunter at your tail. “I was starting to think you forgot about me, Detective.”

“Forget…” He scoffs and chuckles simultaneously, an amused expression on his face. “Hardly. You’ve been making my life difficult for months.”

You peered at him over your shoulder innocently. “Me? Little insignificant me?”

“Keep that attitude up and I'll cuff you right here.”

“It’s shameful to put your hands on a lady, Suguru. You of all people should know that.” You watched a challenging glint flash in his dark irises as his name left your mouth.

You enjoyed this game of cat and mouse you played. Using his first name, acting as if you'd known him for decades, it seemed to just piss him off more. You weren't friends, not in the slightest, not anymore, but it didn't make pushing his buttons any less enjoyable.

“Not if that lady has a warrant out for her arrest in over twenty countries. I’d call that necessary force.” With a switch of the basket between hands, you continue your stroll and to your dismay so did Geto.

“You know what your problem is?” You question, to which he responds with an interested gaze. “You've been on a high horse ever since you got promoted. You used to have a better moral code before you became a detective. Less… how do you say? Kiss ass.”

“And you would know a thing or two about morals?”

“At least I maintain mine, you on the other hand… have your head so far up the government’s ass I can smell what they had for dinner yesterday.”

“You know what your problem is?” He picks up a glass off the display table you were currently browsing, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Please, enlighten me oh Great Detective Geto.”

Strolling was over. He'd never let you go peacefully, the man was too stubborn for that. Once he'd found his target, there was no pulling him away from it. A trait you'd come to learn from months of this relentless pursuit.

You’d stepped into an alley way out of sight and out of the way of prying eyes littering the marketplace. The basket hanging from your forearm, empty.

“You've lost your edge. This is your life now.” He gestures to the dirty gully, water ridden and dank. “Stuck hiding yourself from the world, running away from me for the rest of your life.”

“Mm, you like to flatter yourself don’t you?” The look on his face almost made you laugh. “While you ran off to kiss political ass, I had to figure out how to make a living. You see this,” you gesture to the scar across your cheek. ” Is what I had to do to stay alive, it kept everyone alive after you abandoned us. And for what? A job as a pig?”

“You had so many other options than the fucking Underworld! Criminals y/n!” Silence befell you both.

He hadn’t addressed you by your first name in years. It was one you replaced since starting down this path. You didn’t mind, it was easier when no one knew who you were.

The regret in his eyes only made it worse because that told you he didn’t mean to let it slip out. It was a mistake.

“What should I have done, Geto? Subjected myself to slavery? Mental and physical abuse? Overworked and underpaid in a ‘stable and lawful’ occupation? I thought you knew me better than that, I really did.” You begin walking further into the alley, searching to find any way out of this conversation.

“I thought so too, but here we are having this conversation.” His footsteps mimic yours further behind.

“Don’t follow me.”

His pace picks up to match yours. “You know I can’t do that.”

“I don’t give a shit what you ‘can’t’ do.” Instinctively you flinch away from his grasp, too close for comfort. “You touch me and I’m keeping that hand.”

“I have orders, l/n.” There he went with the formalities.

Coming to a fire escape you stop, analysing your escape route. “And I hate you.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” That struck a nerve in you. Why? You didn’t really know.

“No! Fuck you! For everything! For all this! For your selfishness! For leaving me! For breaking my fucking heart…” It was your turn for a mistake.

He didn’t speak immediately, but his eyes graced you with sympathy, a sentiment that infuriated you more than his voice ever could. “I can’t… I…”

“You know what? Forget it, I prefer it when you act like you don’t know me anyway. I can treat you like the stranger you are now.” Securing the basket over your shoulder, you jump and take hold of the ladder, letting it fall before you make your ascent.

Geto stood speechless behind you, mindlessly witnessing your escape up the metal platforms periodically.

“Y/n, I- stop!“ He follows behind you with haste, clumsy in his oversized raincoat.

“Don’t follow me!”

An open window invites you inside, the place dim as grey clouds shielded the sun. The sound of water beating against the tiled floor told you the owner of the apartment was in the shower, the coast was clear.

“L/n!” Geto shouts, sounding a little out of breath. His face comes into view in the windowsill, cheeks pink, a layer of sweat upon his brow.

The wry expression on your face has him swearing. Bowing through the window, while probing his surroundings hesitantly.

“You don’t listen do you?” You throw the question nonchalantly as you rush for an exit, pathing your way through the strangers home like it was your own.

“Not to you, no.” Flicking hair out of his face, his feet imitate yours through the unfamiliar place, hot on your tail every step of the way.

You can't help but roll your eyes, kissing your teeth as your hand finally reaches the handle of the front door. Soon to be covered with his larger one. “What did I say about that hand Suguru?”

He takes your threat lightly with a low chuckle, not making an attempt to move. “You can certainly try.”

Right as your mouth opens a scream catches you both off guard. A middle aged woman stood in the hallway, towel clutched to her chest as she eyed you both in horror.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!” She thrusts forward a cast iron skillet, flicking the pan between Geto and you with shaky hands. Most likely the closest weapon she could find in her compromised state.

“I was just leaving!” You and Geto blurt in unison, blinking before your eyes meet in confusion.

Without a second thought you unlock the door and burst out the entrance, starting down the empty corridor to the stairwell at the end of it. Slamming into the awaiting emergency door, you force your way through it, nearly slipping whilst your foot hits the first step.

“L/n! Fuck! Y/n!” His voice echoes above you, mixing with your laugh that bounced teasingly off the walls.

“Better luck next time Suguru-!” You were made to eat those words, forced to the ground almost instantly as they left your mouth. “Get off me you piece of shit!” A whimper is drawn from your throat as his weight presses further into your chest. Did this prick really just jump from the floor above you?

“Would you stop struggling?” He grunts, hair falling into his face, dishevelled from the chase. He tries to hold off your hands and legs thrashing against his own, likely painting bruises into his skin on impact.

“Geto!” You growl, frustrated and tired, doing anything in your power to push him off you, to no avail. Somehow always being outmatched when it came to strength and size. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“Just sto-“ His words die with the bob of his Adam’s apple, now imprinted with the side of a blade that threatened to draw blood. “Really now? This is what we’re doing?”

You laugh in his face. The audacity was astonishing. “Don’t act like you’ve never done the same thing to me.”

“Touché.” Was all he could manage before being silenced by the blade pressing further into his skin. “Okay, okay, okay.” He concedes, slowly sitting back on his heels with his hands raised. All the while you followed, keeping the knife close to his larynx, ready to slit his throat at any given moment.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get up and you’re not going to follow me. Got it?” You sneer, keeping a close eye on those hands of his.

He gulps, gaze shifting to the blade then your face. “I can’t. I can’t just let you go, I have a job to do. Orders to follow.”

“And those orders automatically outweigh your morals? Is that right Suguru?” With squinted eyes you feel your heart race, begging, pleading for him to just let this war between you end.

“I’m not going to go through this with you again.” His exasperated sigh has your jaw clenching.

“You’re fucking pathetic.” You curse the break in your voice, tears rimming your lash line as a wave of buried emotion hurtles toward you. “Leave me be, do I make myself clear?”

“Y/n-“

Don’t. Don’t use my name. Don’t put me through this again. “Do I make myself clear, Geto?!”

His eyes close hesitantly, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he lets out a deep exhale. “Yes.”

That was all you needed. Withdrawing the knife from his throat you tuck it back into its sheath at your hip, before making a break for it. Your shoes squeak with each hastened step down the stairs, ears on the lookout for the patter of the detective's own footsteps behind you. To your relief they never came.

You finally make it to the exit, swinging the door open haphazardly, catching the attention of the few passers by. You pay them no mind as you draw your hood over your head, merging into the crowd effortlessly. Driving forward and missing the dark haired man in the window above watching you slip away from him yet again.

tags: @getosarea, @gardenof-venus, @sintiva, @sailewhoremoon, @okhotel, @xharia, @sakinotfound

© poohbea, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. if you intend to translate any of my works please ask permission first ♡

[charaznablescanontoyota]

“marn, i missed agdq 2022! what runs should i watch?”

hello and welcome to another post where i make a hyperspecific list of things i like. awesome games done quick, a speedrunning marathon for charity, was this month, and a lot of their content is tailored towards being both clearly explained and fun to watch for an audience outside the speedrun community! it’s a great way to get into watching speedruns if you’ve ever been curious, and just a joyous event in general, run by cool people, with donations that go towards a good cause. that all said, here are some highlights from agdq 2022 that i personally think you should check out!

keep talking and nobody explodes: have you ever wanted to watch a guy defuse a bomb that is actually 100 bombs. what about watching a guy play both ends of a party game for 2 or more people completely solo. what if there was also a group of people trying to do commentary while also marking the fuck out over it. all of that happens in this run, and i could not look away.

kingdom hearts 2 randomizer co-op race: two sets of two runners race to be the first to find 37 key items and beat the game in a randomized version of kh2 where said items could be literally anywhere - in the first chest they open or behind one of the hardest bosses in the game. i will let you guess how many of the hardest bosses in the game they have to fight during this run.

pokemon crystal randomizer race: three runners race to beat pokemon crystal as fast as possible with completely randomized encounters and item drops (including badges and hms). one of my favorite runners (keizaron) is in this, and pokemon randos are always a good time. if you like this one and the previous one, keiz and jhobz do races of games they’ve never/barely played every week on gdq’s twitch channel, and you can find the playlist of vods right here!

geoguessr co-op: two guys have to figure out their exact location as fast as possible, but one of them can only see the zoomed-out map and one of them can only see street view. that’s it, that’s the pitch. the detective work on display here is incredibly satisfying to watch - and one of these runners also did a solo run back at sgdq 2021!

dead rising: i was really especially excited about this one because i follow this runner (ecdysis) and i knew from his channel that the dead rising community just discovered a skip in the game that cut a large chunk of time off the run. the commentary on this one is some really top notch stuff from someone who knows the game and the run back to front. if you like this one, check out ecdysis’s 2020 run of night trap (blindfolded)!

super monkey ball: banana mania race: monkey ball is a gdq staple, and this race is an incredible showcase as to why. the runners do some truly impressive back-and-forth commentary while playing the hardest levels known to man like it’s nothing, including a bonus race on the “touch any banana and you die” game mode.

chicory: a colorful tale: a run by one of my favorite runners, of a low-combat puzzle game, with dev commentary! there’s some cool insight in here into what glitches were left intentionally in the game, and just some excellent and funny running commentary overall. if you like this one, be sure to check out punchy’s 2020 run of baba is you!

oatmeal: this is a 4 minute speedrun where the runner put on a full suit and tie at ass o’clock in the am to play a game about eating oatmeal as fast as you possibly can. i should not need to say anything else about this video.

casio mario world: one of the hardest mario romhacks ever shown at gdq, played at 6 in the morning by a guy with the chillest attitude about dying over and over. if you’ve never watched any kaizo mario (aka asshole mario) games before, definitely check this one out to see what they’re all about! this game in particular also has an incredible soundtrack.

stepmania/notitg showcase: what if dance dance revolution wanted you dead

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

[eloquent-vowel]

I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,

Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk

Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3

Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!

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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.

The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.

At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.

“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.

“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”

Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”

“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”

“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“As long as- “

“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”

“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”

There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.

“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”

“For you to come to a meeting.”

“The families of Veterans ones?”

“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.

“You know sign language, right?”

“Which kind?”

“American? I think?”

“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”

Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”

Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”

“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”

Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.

“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”

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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.

You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.

You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”

You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”

“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.

Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.

“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”

“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”

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You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.

The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.

It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.

You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,

“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”

“No problem.” He signed back,

You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”

Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”

“You know how to text?”

“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”

“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.

You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,

“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”

You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.

Well, that was hot.

You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,

“I’ll explain later.”

Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.

“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”

“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”

He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”

Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”

“No problem, see ya.”

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The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.

The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.

As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.

His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”

“Hot chocolate it is.”

You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1-

“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”

You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.

You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”

Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”

“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”

“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”

“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”

Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”

“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”

Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”

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It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.

“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”

“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”

“You know what this means Bucky?”

“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”

“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.

“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”

You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”

Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.

“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”

“You’re evil.”

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Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.

“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.

You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”

“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”

Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-

“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.

Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”

“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”

“You’re serious.”

You nodded.

Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”

You both looked guiltily at one another.

“You owe me. That poker night, void.”

You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”

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It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.

Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.

“Bucky?”

You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.

“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”

Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.

“You, okay?”

You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.

“I should be asking you that.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”

Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.

“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”

Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.

“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”

You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.

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You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.

“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.

He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”

You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”

“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”

“Strange?”

“I was watching myself most of the time.”

You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”

There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “

“Oh God Bucky.” You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”

“Those were your dreams?”

“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “

“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”

You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”

“And I love you.”

“Huh

There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.