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starryyyjoon · 3 years

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I, you | Kim Namjoon One Shot

word count: 8.2k

pairing: idol!namjoon x fem reader

summary: namjoon meets you again and he can't help but want you to look at him the same way he has all these years.

disclaimer: it's sort of written from y/n pov. kind of smut included, not too much but still. other then that, i don't think there's anything. it was written a long time ago so i don't clearly remember, sorry!

Namjoon walked in, followed by a few staff members and they occupied the empty chairs on the conference table and I smiled at him and the others. He looked great like always, he was in a navy blue hoodie and a khaki colored trouser, with his hair pushed backwards exposing his forehead.

There was something and nothing between me and him and it was too tiring to play pretend. "You look good", he remarked and I smiled at him. He's always being too kind, I looked like absolute shit, I hadn't slept in three days and my clothes were whatever was in my reach that I'd put on after showering and I rushed here.

I had met him before this level of success but I was merely an assistant director myself and we'd talked about Monet and his work together, he'd similar interests to mine but both of us didn't really get anywhere because of our timing and I believed it was for the good. He'd always expressed how he liked my vision and wants to work with me on something and I didn't believe my vision because what even was my vision that he could see and not me and after being this big I didn't really thought he'll even remember me until he hit my phone one day and here I was, at the label's office to discuss the details of his mixtape's music video.

"So, do you've something in mind?", I asked him and he pressed his back on the chair letting out a yawn, he seemed tired.

"Not really! I want it simplistic and not too hard to understand. I haven't thought about it or anything so I don't know, I would await what you propose", he softly said.

"I haven't heard the track because of--", he intervened, "--ah you haven't? You should hear it first", he said and I nodded.

"I would need to hear it", I told him, thinking about the lengthy talks with the illustrator already.

The staff then pin pointed about the budget, the do nots and other details and two of my team members who were seated beside me talked thoroughly in detail about the technicalities. Namjoon looked bored with all the talk that didn't interest him. He wasn't much different from before slightly bigger.

All of us stood up coming to an agreement when Namjoon asked me to walk up to his studio to hear the track and I asked my team members to go ahead first. I walked through the dark corridor behind him while he talked to someone on the phone, all the way to his studio. I didn't really hear what he was talking because I was invested in staring around the place like I hadn't seen a building before.

The walls were all dark and a comforting shade since I didn't like the sun anyway. It seemed like a night mode in real life.

His studio was the corner most, he typed the passcode in and stood aside gesturing for me to walk in, followed by him. He hung up the phone call and put his phone aside, switching the AC on. He sat behind the monitor while he switched it on and I went through my inbox.

"So, how have you been?", his deep tone, made me look up and I fidgeted to put my eyes on something other then him while he turned his chair around to face me.

"I have been okay-ish, like the projects I'm doing I'm satisfied with them so I guess it's kinda okay", I said and regretted it immediately, I don't even talk like this and he knows it.

"Not the work c'mon, you, your boyfriend, family, other things?", a lose smile hung on his lips and I looked at him. How can someone look like that?

"No boyfriend because you know no one can put up with this profession. I haven't slept in three days so I'm fucking annoyed and the work is too much that I don't have time for other things", I shrugged and he chuckled. I didn't want to think about guys, I barely had time for myself. Filmmaking was a time bound profession.

"I relate, trust me I do", he turned his chair back around, his eyes on the computer screen and I looked at him. I could see why he could relate, I mean of course he didn't had time either. I knew idol schedules enough to know how these things go. "Why didn't you come that day?", he asked me and my insides twisted.

"I was hoping you don't bring it up", I said in a small voice.

"Why not? I waited for you", he said without looking at me and I threw my head back on the couch thinking of the time when he'd asked me out officially and I didn't make it. "At least I deserve to know what was more important that you didn't make it", he looked at me and I closed my eyes shut.

"I had a flight, I got an exclusive food show travel experience with discovery and it was too good for an opportunity to miss", I let it out and took a breath in. I knew I could never leave work for a guy, any guy, or anyone as a matter of fact and as much as I'd thought about it on the plane...it all seemed for the better. He wasn't the kind of guy I could've had my regular thing with and I was too young to be serious.

"It was a good show", he told me. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn't flinch. I didn't regret it but his words made me feel guilty. My head was on the headrest of the sofa I sat on and my eyes were closed. My subconscious could feel his curious gaze on me.

"Look away Namjoon", I said and I could feel his gaze was still on me.

"Why didn't you call me when you got back?", he asked me and I looked at him.

"I didn't because our cultures differ, everything is poles apart--what's the point of discussing it now?", I asked him, slightly annoyed. He and I separately needed to focus on our careers and he knew it too damn well.

"Okay", he turned around again as his monitor showed a circle indicating that the programme he'd launched was loading. "It does makes me feel better that my better position in life doesn't changes your opinion on me. Quiet comforting", he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice but I chose to ignore it. The last thing I'd be doing is fueling this feeling in him by discussing this useless thing which wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

"Is this the reason you wanted me to do this project with you?", I asked him and he swiftly turned his chair around.

"No, I don't take all this for granted. I love the stuff you do. I'm pretty updated thanks to how active you're on your social media", he smiled and I couldn't shook the thought of seeing my psychotic episodes on my Instagram, Twitter...everywhere. I'm pretty weird out there.

"I love it, the stories", he flased his dimple smile before turning his chair around again and I felt his warmth, like he meant what he said.

For a second I was taken aback with how tall he was from me and how good he looked, he'd always looked good but he was more mature now and much more reserved. "I'll be calling you often because I won't send it for pre-production without your say on the concept", I told him.

"I'll look forward to a lot of calls", he said. "I'm sorry this is taking a while", he added quickly and for some reason I couldn't look away from him, whose back was visible to me.

"No, take your time", I said, crossing my arms against my chest. I really wished he was a regular guy just making music but then I didn't. I wouldn't want someone to wish that for me. He'd earned all of it and I knew it.

"Look away ___", he said slowly. I could feel his grin through his words and I looked away shaking my head right and left softly. "It's, yeah it's playing", he turned around as the music filled in the empty atmosphere.

It was a slow song with a really fast rap. It was how Namjoon was, he contradicted himself too much. I instantly knew it was his writing from the way the words went and the wordplay came into role. I couldn't help but analyze the song because I was supposed to shoot and sketch a music video for it and at times like this I didn't really get to enjoy the art for the art and I hated it.

"How was it?", he asked me, his eyes fixated on me as the music faded. I wanted it to last.

"The only problem with it is that it ends", I flashed a smlie at him and he shook his head throwing it back.

"That's too corny even for you", Namjoon rolled his eyes but I was being serious. "You know I appreciate heavy critics", he said.

"I didn't find anything to criticize, the writing is great, the composition fits and it has a catchy vibe to it. I think I would listen a song like that on a drive or something? In your case a bicycle but yeah! It's a good song", I summarized my opinion. "Do you like want a trendy video?", I asked him.

"Anything that you want to do with it", he said and I gently nodded. Since it was given to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with it.

"Can you stop thinking about it while you're with me ___?", he chuckled and I looked at him taken aback for a second and then nodded with a soft smile pasted on my lips.

"Your fashion sense has improved", I remarked.

"You look casual", he teased me.

"I, I've no fashion sense. I just wear whatever is there", I told him.

"I don't think so, your Instagram says different", he said.

"It's for the show Namjoon", I said.

"You're really not the type to do that, please don't deceive me", he beamed before he turned his chair around again to minimize the current tabs on the computer.

"You're the last person I'd be deceiving--", my words were cut from an incoming call from one of the producers of one of the shows I was working on. "I need to take this", I told him and answered the call while he just gave me a gentle nod in response.

The producer had informed me about the issues related to casting and the final draft of the script and I knew I had to go.

"Guess I'll see you later, bye", Namjoon said warmly as he smiled at me. The thing was he just knew and that always stuck somewhere.

"Bye", I left.

________________

"I, for one, disagree. C'mon how do you even call it an end?", I threw my hands in the air as we discussed it for the millionth time. I liked Su-ho but his thoughts on GOT made me want to kill him. He is the only person I knew who was satisfied with how it ended.

"I think it was okay, c'mon, you have to consider that the novels didn't end and as compared to that I think it was pretty good", Su-ho claimed while he sat on the bean bag in front of me, pushing it comfortably.

"Don't even start with the novels--", my words were interrupted with the sound of the doorbell, "--they didn't even do a good job interpreting it and I am offended by that. Look there novels", I pointed at my bookshelf, showing him my GOT collection which he knew as I opened the door and my head bumped against Namjoon's chest as he took a step in.

He chuckled as he held the back of my head with one hand and pressed my forehead with the other and rubbed it gently to ease the pain.

"What's uh, what's that? Is it iron", I mocked, pointing at his chest while he let me go from his grip and took his shoes off.

"It can be", he said. "But why were you jumping around so enthusiastically?", he asked me as he seated on the couch in front of Su-ho, as he greeted him and Su-ho greeted him back.

"Game of Thrones heavy discussions", I sighed. "This is Su-ho who's illustrating the storyboard", I told Namjoon.

Su-ho was starstruck and it seemed like it'd take him a good minute to recover and Namjoon was obviously used to it. I didn't call him at the office because a lot of people would want to see him then and it could be exhausting plus he'd a time limit on his hands.

"You know him, ___?", Su-ho widened his eyes at me and I nodded, suppressing my laughter seeing his chaotic ass behave like this.

"A little", I said and I could feel Namjoon's gaze on me. "Maybe a lot", I rephrased. I could see by the way Su-ho looked at me that he needed answers. "Coffee?", I asked Namjoon.

"Oh yeah", he replied and I stood up. "I've thought of two concepts, Su-ho please brief him on it and if you want anything differently Namjoon, you can tell him", I told him as I marched towards the kitchen.

Should I use the regular coffee mugs or should I use the better ones? I mean it doesn't matter anyway but still, it kind of does? I don't know. It just comes to me, the over thinking.

Ah.

I could hear him and Su-ho talking about the concepts faintly and I was low-key proud because I did work hard on them. I opened the cabinet to take out the better coffee mugs.

This is what happens when you stop drinking milk and stop growing up. I rested my hands on the kitchen pavement thinking about how many shoes with heels I'd because of my height.

I wasn't very short but I wasn't my desired height too. It was sad. I was the right person to sell the tonics concerning height because my insecurity would make me buy it. I exhaled heavily and turned around to find Namjoon behind me.

"Let me", my hips pressed against the marble pavement while his body gently pressed against my front, I could spot the mole on his neck while he calmly took the box of mugs out. "Okay?", he whispered softly and I looked on without responding.

"Thanks", I told him, hoping he'd get away from me because this had me feeling some type of way. I won't admit what type of way. That makes it worse.

"Anytime", he clicked his lips, taking a few steps back as I stirred the coffee and poured it in three cups. Should've used regular ones.

"I like the quotes on that wall", he said as I handed him his cup, taking the other two. A wall of my house was covered in post-it notes and other stuff. Some print outs of Van Gogh and Frida's works alongside other things.

"Yeah that? Thanks", I said, as I gave the cup to Su-ho. "Did you decide on something?", I asked, as I sat down and Namjoon just beside me.

"Yeah, the first one. It was kind of okay, he made some alterations so I would send it to you by...maximum tomorrow", Su-ho told me. "But why did you call him here for just this?", he asked me.

"You seem so concerned about his whereabouts", I glared Su-ho . "I told him I could just email him but he insisted on doing it in person", I looked at Namjoon who took a long sip from his coffee.

"Yeah I did, don't worry I was absolutely free", Namjoon smiled at Su-ho and I could see Su-ho fanboy-ing.

"You're so in line today", I pressed my words.

"Shut up", Su-ho eyed me. I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug feeling its warmth.

After I talked to Namjoon for a while about the shoot and he explained to me about their company procedure and how they usually did things. I didn't like doing music videos or commercials, there's a lot of time you're bound by what the music video demands and you've to stick with that so that was that. I usually preferred either cinema like movies or dramas, I hadn't done much but I had done a few and travel shows were my preference.

"I'll see you next time then", Su-ho politely remarked looking at Namjoon and he smiled and gently bowed his head. I walked with him up-to the door. "I didn't, what the hell, you could've given me a heads up?", Su-ho whispered slowly to me as I leaned against the door.

"I didn't knew you were a fan", I said and he playfully hit me on my arm.

"I still can't believe it, you've to answer my hot questions next time", he said and I nodded.

"Okay okay", I closed the door shut behind me, taking a seat on the far side of the sofa me and Namjoon were seated on. He was scanning my bookshelf and I was looking at him.

"Literally 70% of it is fiction", he said. I read a lot of fiction and he read a lot of nonfiction.

"You should read fiction", I said and he looked at me slightly pissed.

"I do read fiction just not thar much", he pointed at my bookshelf. "If you've to recommend one, shoot", he said.

"Recommend, uh, the secrets of happiness", I said randomly and his face sunk in annoyance. "It's not a book talking about literal secrets of happiness, it has a story", I told him.

"Ah okay...I will try reading that. Let me take your copy", he said.

"No", I said back in a split second.

"I won't lose it, c'mon, ___", he said. I couldn't believe his testimony on not losing it.

"Fine, but it's annotated. You'll owe me big time if you lose it", I said and he nodded vigorously.

"Your place is great", he said looking around the house and I couldn't see why, I mean yeah maybe but not that I find it great if I think from his point of view.

"I'm barely here anyway. I pay rent for no reason", I kept the empty mug in my hand on the glass table in front of us.

"That was your friend though, Su-ho?", Namjoon asked as he kept his cup, followed by me.

"Oh yeah! I met him for work but then it's been a while since I know him, it's been years actually and he's a friend now", I said thinking about Su-ho. I don't know why I bothered explaining. It's been a good five years since Namjoon and I hadn't been in touch and there was a little catching up to do.

"You've always had a lot of friends, don't you", he sighed as he sat cross legged on the sofa facing me. I do have plenty friends honestly.

"Kind of", I shrugged. His gaze on me made me sit back in a more cautious way as I fixed my posture. "Namjoon...", I called out his name when the doorbell rung and I was irritated. "Give me a second", I stood up and walked up-to the main door.

It was my neighbor who's mother had left their house keys with me and he was here to take it back. He thanked me for keeping it and walked up to his own flat which was in front of mine.

I closed the door shut and Namjoon was standing by the balcony seeing a cactus I had grown since I couldn't grow any other plant because I was never home to take care of them in case.

"It's cute", he said as he picked the potted plant and stared at it for a little while and I stood behind him and watched him see it.

"You know your pupils dilate when you see plants", I said and he smiled to himself. He kept the cactus back in its resting place and stared at me. "What?", I asked him.

"You were going to say something", he said, his voice sounded deeper then usual for a second and I licked my bottom lip in haste.

"Oh that, you know the alterations you made? I will directly mail it to the staff and maybe cc you because it won't need a second check anyway. I've to get this done a little early since I've--", he turned towards me and I took a step back but there was barely any space and my back was pressed against the wall, "--what is it?", I asked but it came out as a whisper.

"Here", he dragged his index finger across my bottom lip and there was something on my lip. I didn't really see what was on there because of his presence so close to me. My heartbeat had fastened and I could feel it. Something I didn't want to feel.

"Thanks, I guess", I said slowly and he flashed his dimple smile at me and in that moment he seemed the opposite of the dominant he was a few seconds ago.

"Do you know you look really good?", he said, as his fingers ran across my ear touching the piercings one by one. I regretted having three all of a sudden. "And I didn't intended to do this but ___ I uh", he bent over a little, his lips a few inches away from my ear and his breath was falling on my neck.

"Namjoon", I said, trying to not look at him. I knew damn well I couldn't be able to control myself.

"Hmm", his voice was so small and I could feel goosebumps all over my neck. His gaze on me was strong and I had jitters in my stomach.

"I, uh--let's not okay", I put my hands on his shoulder as he pulled me more closer with a jolt and I gasped.

"Do you really not want to?", he asked me. It was a while since I was in this close proximity of someone like this but my subconscious kept telling me not to. "I don't understand what you find so undesirable about me", he took a few steps back and looked away.

What?

"Do you think I find you undesirable?", I asked him, pressing my lips suppressing my smile. I couldn't get how could he change roles in a span of few seconds.

"Yeah, it's pretty evident really", he sighed, looking at the the far side of the sky at the horizon and I saw him sulking.

"It's not that, are you fucking dumb? It's just you know you shouldn't start things you can't take care of", I said. For some reason I've always felt a little hesitant with him. "But you're desirable enough", I added.

"Sudden validation from you, ah", he clicked his lips in mockery and I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to look like I was playing hard to get. I didn't feel competent enough in my heart. "Let me kiss you", he said, taking a few steps closer breaking the chain of my thoughts and I hated being so much in control and feeling a little out of place.

I was back to where I was a few seconds ago, me cornered and he put his lips on mine and my body automatically responded. He took over me in a second. My hands rested on his back and clutched the fabric. His hands travelled below my hips as he pulled me upwards and my legs wrapped around his waist. He didn't stop kissing me for one second and I didn't want him to, as he pressed his mouth harder on mine and I bit back a moan. I could feel the heat in my body and every vein seemed to electrify. He walked me up-to my bedroom like he knew which suddenly felt foreign to me as he laid me on the bed, breaking the kiss and I was breathless, panting for air.

I didn't had any resort in me to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I couldn't care more about whatever that had me concerned for a while. He watched me look at him and his lips curved in a smirk. "Should I stop?", he teased me taking a seat on the edge of the bed and I looked away from him to the right side, scoffing.

I pushed myself up, my hands at the hem of the lose white t-shirt I'd on and for a second I hesitated at the fact that he must've seen better flesh than mine but I pulled it upwards exposing myself in front of him as his eyes went everywhere. "Do you want to stop?", I asked him, as I crawled over to him. He didn't object as I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. I looked in his eyes. He looked beautiful. I traced the outline of his skull, his jaw as I pushed his hair locks that were on his forehead behind. "Do you want to stop Namjoon?", I asked him again as he held me tight, giving me my answer.

He tugged at my neck with his mouth leaving a trail of gentle kisses down and I could feel my nipples startlingly prominent beneath the black lightweight bra I had on. I clutched his hair as he bit my neck suddenly and I gasped.

He pushed me on to him, nearer but there was barely any space for me to come close and I could feel him all over. He messily kissed me before groping my bottom and I-I cut a breath in. He would take turns and be gentler a second and rough the another. "Namjoon", I called out gasping which fueled him even more. He looked at me and smiled proudly at how he had me without doing much.

He flicked the straps of my bra shoving it down exposing my breasts and I could feel my nipples harden to the point it was painful. I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, more. The way my body responded to his touch was almost funny, how quick, how wet.

I patiently unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off of him while he looked at me with a gaze I couldn't quite make anything of, he just looked at me while he let me work on him. My hands touched his chest and my eyes examined his torso, his skin was warm and his gaze on me gave me confidence like he wanted me back as much I wanted him.

I was forgetting my own desperation for his touch as my hand traveled behind his back, trailing down to his spine and he looked at me as he cut a sharp breath in and I felt good seeing him giving in to me. His arms surrounded mine unclasping my bra in a second and he threw it off on the floor.

I half expected him to grab me and grope my breast but he swept me in his arms as his vaguely pink mouth pressed against mine and instead of hastily grabbing me, his mouth simply rested against mine and it was worse, much more intoxicating. I, on instinct coiled my arms against his neck.

As my tongue demanded entrance and he smiled before letting me, and in a second, roles were reversed, the romantic was gone. He took control and pressed his mouth harder on me with his thumb and finger pressing my nipple and my nails dug deeper in his neck. "Joon...", I on instinct called out, as I gasped for breath but he didn't let me.

He was hard against me and I grinded next to him which seemed to please him while he left my mouth, burning with a wanting for more while my sex clenched as he took control of my body putting his arms around my back and they were free to go anywhere. I wouldn't dare stop him.

A second later, he laid me on the bed and hovered over me before taking my shorts off in a whirl and pushed my underwear off me that it didn't seem reusable. I anticipated his actions but he pushed a thumb into my bottom without no warning and I clutched the sheets, a yell escaping my mouth. My fingers curled meanwhile his other arm grabbed my breast cupping it and a second later his forefinger and middle finger slipped inside of me and my grip on the sheets tightened.

"Shh", he hissed in my ear and I hadn't realized a moan had escaped my mouth. My whole body rocked in less then a minute and I couldn't control my voice, I gasped for breath and I moaned even louder then before. "I didn't take you for a screamer ___", Namjoon seemed amused while embarrassment washed over me as I laid exposed in front of him.

"Let me go down on you", I told him and he looked taken aback as I pushed myself up.

"Do you really want to?", he asked and I shifted closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I would love to", I told him. "Do you want me to?", I asked him.

"Yeah, I mean yeah", he said when his phone rang echoing in the room and his face flushed into irritation as he looked at me and I nodded gesturing him to take it. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. With every word he spoke, his irritation grew. He hung up the phone call. "Where's the wardrobe?", he asked me and my eyes pointed behind him.

Namjoon opened my wardrobe and took out a very lose t-shirt of his choice from my stack of comfortable clothes. He held my arms and slipped the t-shirt on me, pulling me close. He stroked my face and he smiled in my face which forced me to smile as well.

"Am I suppose to expect something from you or should I forget this?", I asked him as his fingers tucked the few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"You're supposed to expect everything, don't dare forget it", he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it and I couldn't help but giggle. "I want to talk to you but I've to go now and I hate it", he smiled at me.

"Okay, go", I told him and he chuckled before letting me off him and he wore his shirt back on.

After seeing him off and taking a shower, I laid back on the couch in the living room thinking about everything that had happened. I didn't regret it, I wasn't thinking much about it anyway.

The guys I'd sex with or made out with, I disliked them because of their narcissism. I appreciated my ability to find guys that were a-grade assholes. I've always had this feeling that I am lacking in some sense with other people. I look normal, like I should but I get this insecurity when taking my clothes off.

I didn't knew what Namjoon thought about it and asking him would be weird. No one who knows me like him would think I am this insecure or anxious about this stuff but then a major part of it has to do with my aura, I guess?

________________

I took a bite of the sandwich that I held in my hand as I walked around the second set just nearby to the first one. I stood afar, taking a good look, even though the storyboard fits the sights I still need to frame out a rough sketch work in my head.

I took another bite staring at the beach and the path to it and then back to the set that we'd build up by man power. It was pretty accurate in my eyes but I wanted to hear from my assistant director.

I took the walkie talkie out from the pocket of my denim and pressed the centre button, "Jae-chan, where are you?"

In a second he reverted, "Ah sunbae I am near the gripper".

"Come to the road that leads to the beach", I said, before shoving the walkie talkie down in my pocket.

The sea met the sky at the far point of the horizon and how the world is full of these illusions which are not real we know but we still believe. After all there's beauty in things that you don't get. Vastness maybe?

Sea and sky — the two melancholic blues.

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan broke the chain of my thoughts and I glanced at him before looking at the sea. His breath was heavy, I could tell he ran here.

"You could have walked, Chan-ah", I said, smiling. He was really young and passionate about filmmaking but also a little silly. He's cute.

"Ah it's okay. Did you need something?", he asked politely and I shook my head. I liked the input of many people on the same thing, it showed the number of opinions that could centre around one thing that you make in a different context which is then perceived in another.

"Do you think this is accurate in terms of the story board?", I asked him and he seemed lost in thought.

"I would say slightly better because the storyboard is still animation and this is real so I would say better. I'm pretty sure it'll be good sunbae", he told me and I could feel a smile flush on my lips. "You are nervous, aren't you?", he asked me.

"Yeah", I wrinkled my nose, turning around to walk off. I patted Jae Chan's back and he started walking with me.

"You don't have to be, and oh, he's here", he said assuring me and I knew who he meant by he.

My mind automatically went to the day in my apartment. Namjoon had messaged me after but he got busier with his work and I am not a text-er plus I'd a lot of things to do before I left Korea. It was, I didn't knew anything and I didn't want to think about it. I hoped he'd pretend nothing happened, please. But I knew he won't.

I sighed and as I entered the main set, around the vanity and food truck, the manager and Namjoon's staff members greeted me. After that, I mean impractically I wanted earth to open and swallow me. Living is hard anyway.

I'd a flight on the weekend, I'd to pack and I'd to get new boots but I'm just dumb because I'm trying to think of other things. I need a new nail paint, do I? I looked at my nails which were painted black. Maybe grey?

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan shook me and I looked at him. He gestured me to look up front and Namjoon was right there looking like Namjoon.

"Hi", I awkwardly waved at him.

"Hi", he flashed his dimple smile at me. His dimple smile hits me.

"You can get the makeup and hair done, I've a few things to recheck", I excused myself. This is awkward. This is so awkward. I hate it.

Even though I had that awkwardness lingering around but we were nearing to the end of the shoot which went really good because everyone worked so hard. It was mostly one-takes and the lighting supported the whole setting making it so easier for us to finish.

Moreover, it was a while since I had done a music video so it felt good being back on a set like this. Namjoon looked really good with the styling and although I knew the outfits pre-shoot, he still looked better then I'd imagined him to look which enhanced the whole vibe of the music video. He owned earthly tones.

That's why casting and styling is so important. Very much. Makes a gigantic difference.

"What's wrong with you?", I didn't notice he was standing next to me with a small fan in his hands while we prepped for the last shot.

"What's wrong with me?", I asked him, as I adjusted the frame in the main camera. I didn't want this conversation especially right now, especially here.

"I mean...you knowww?", I could feel his stare while I shifted the camera, something is wrong with this.

"I don't know", I said, without looking at him. I was unintentionally making him mad and nothing else.

"I was really scared that you'd say this and see, I mean, why can't you behave normal when I mention anything about us?", he hissed near me and I looked around. Luckily there was no one in our proximity to hear this conversation.

"I-I, Namjoon", I exclaimed, vaguely pointing at the setting hoping we could do this later and I could explain that I would love us but he needs to understand that I won't even be in Korea as much as he thinks I would be and that's why it won't work out.

"I don't care", he eyed me.

"I do. I care, okay? There's no us to begin with and I know I was stupid enough to ask you what I should expect out of, what would you call it, we made out. That's that", I tried being really slow and I could feel annoyance in his sight.

"Made out! Okay, okay fine. I can't believe I deal with you. You're the one who doesn't text or call or even respond to it and that's bare minimum ___", he pondered and I internally rolled my eyes.

I was leaving on the weekend. I was always leaving. That's it. "I don't have to and I have a life Namjoon. I've been working non stop all this time. I don't expect you to understand", I said, standing up from my seat while I called for the head DOP from the walkie talkie.

"You don't want to be understood ___", Namjoon said, grabbing me from my arm and stopping me. He wasn't wrong. A few eyes snapped and I forced a smile immediately. "I like you, I like you a lot. Deal with it", he walked past me.

Deal with it.

As if.

Very abruptly, the last shot rolled in and it was over. The music video was done in a day. It was originally a two day sketch but we had to narrow it down to one day because of Namjoon's schedule and it was worrisome because it did seem impossible but things went smoothly and it was successfully over.

I told Jae Chan to wrap the filming site, though most of it was done while I was present. I picked my bag from a table to leave, kept right ahead from the vanity. Namjoon had left, I guess. I wasn't sure because after the last shot he was angry. He had his jaw clenched all that time, he barely managed to keep it out on the music video.

He was like this, his anger was pretty evident and that hadn't changed.

I like you. I like you a lot.

I couldn't wrap my head around that thought. Did he like me all this time? It sounded pretty crazy to me. I had never thought about anything with Namjoon. He was a friend I could like but I didn't, I had never expected anything out of my acquaintance with him anyway.

"You ate?", his deep voice made me look at him who stood at the steps of the vanity. He hadn't left yet.

"No", I said. He had changed into his normal clothes, the makeup was gone but he still looked great. His natural complexion was shining as the set lights fell onto his face. It made me surer how Namjoon needed someone who could be there rather then somebody who's never there.

"Come eat something", he said calmly. He looked much composed then before.

"I am not hungry", I stated just when he darted towards me. He held me by my forearm, dragging me into the vanity which was empty except for us. A few dishes were laid out on the table in front of the small couch.

"Eat and leave", he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the mirrors fidgeting with his phone while I quietly sat on the couch. I just wanted it to be over but I'd no appetite so I kept staring at the couple of Italian dishes which were pasta, carbonara I guess, rissoto and also jjangmyeong. "Just eat anything ___", he said, without bothering to look at me.

"I don't really have an appetite", I said, throwing my head back and looking at the ceiling of the vanity.

"What you've is a habit of skipping meals", he eyed me.

I looked at him. "Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?", I asked him as curiosity brimmed in my eyes.

"You don't?", he asked me back. "Well, for me, yeah I do. I did remember every thing but I should probably forget now. I didn't really asked to work with you because I wanted something but I can't say I didn't hope", he locked his phone and kept it on the space in front him. "I mean, we did had something. We did have something a few days ago. You can't exactly call me a friend and I've never seen you as one. The moment you walked in trying to fix the mess on the set since then till now I can't say I didn't hope you'd look at me the same way", he said, bringing all the memories back alive, but it was true, I never looked at him the way he'd wanted me to, hell, I couldn't believe it one bit. "It's true", he said, as if he just read my mind.

It was, it didn't made sense to me. How could he? Why would he? I uh, I think shit's wrong with me because even now I can't seem to focus on someone who confessed their feelings and that someone being Namjoon from all people.

I remember when I was one of the assistant directors under the director for one of the most low-key and low budget project. They didn't had many resources and our firm wasn't doing well either. We always had to come up with hacks, unknown locations for shooting...it was always so hard. We didn't had any respect in the industry.

It was two companies in one boat at the end of bankruptcy and we were so young and such good friends. I knew the rest of the members too but I kind of had a certain vibe with Namjoon. He could get me without having to speak.

I locked at him, his face was fixated on me and I could like him, in fact I did love him not romantically, I just did. I had a lot of love for him. He was caring for the people around him and I loved talking to him. He never once made anyone feel like he was a celebrity back then and a global celebrity now well yeah. He did deserve someone who could be here for him.

He stood up and walked towards me and my eyes followed him. He took a seat next to me and I could see he picked a bowl up but I didn't see which one because I couldn't stop looking at him. Namjoon took a significant amount and extended it to me and I looked at the noodles for a second and then at him. He just nodded and I ate it.

It was good.

"Thanks", I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with my fingers.

"Do you want me to feed you all the way or can you eat your own?", he asked me.

"I will eat", I told him and he gave me the bowl so I could eat on my own. "You ate?", I asked him and he instantly nodded.

"You're going somewhere, aren't you?", he asked me and I felt as if I've just been struck with something.

"Hmm", I said, my mouth almost filled. "And, I...I want to tell you something like adults and clear it. Namjoon you know my work and I am always not here, never. It's useless. Trust me on this, it's not like that but you know you'll need someone beside you and I can't be the one", I told him, calmly, before gulping water down.

"I know that but I'm okay with it. In fact, we would go hand in hand better because I can't take you out on exotic dates as well. This is what you get", he vaguely gestured at the vanity and I chuckled and he warmly smiled at me.

After a second, I spoke much seriously then before, "It will be hard and you know that. It'll be frustrating. You could hate me".

"If you've tired it with someone before, I am not exactly happy knowing this, but you shouldn't compare me with some random dude with a peculiar taste in leather clothing", he rolled his eyes, shifting his back comfortably.

"Hey! Don't be mean just because you see stuff on my Instagram", I scoffed and he maintained his long face.

"No really, what do you take me for? You think you won't have time for me? I won't have time for you", he went on.

"Namjoon", I dragged his name. His tendency to be sarcastic at odd moments is unmatched.

"Don't call my name like that", he stared at my eyes.

"Like what?", I asked him.

"Like you can love me", he said.

"I...you don't have to be like this", I said, keeping the empty bowl on the table.

"Give me a chance then, try it out. I would wait for you I promise", Namjoon took my hand in his and covered it with his warmth.

"Will I be able to...wait?", I looked away from him, thinking about it so hard.

"___ don't think too much. I promise, we'll be fine", he said, his hands travelling to my waist and before he could grab it. I screeched closer to him. I cupped his face and attached my lips to his, while his hands held on my body.

________________

My relationship with Namjoon was better then I imagined it. I tried my best to be there for him and he was surprisingly almost there for me but it wasn't exactly easy.

It was months and months of hardships and Namjoon was more needy then I thought him to be, he needed a lot of assurance. I don't understand the notion that he holds of everyone wanting me so he needs to be extra careful. I still don't get that his insecure ass doesn't trusts his own members, he won't let me meet them at all.

He was really different. He shifted from dominant to romantic in one second. I loved that. I kind of missed it so much.

He held my hand I could feel it by the way his skin felt against mine, he whirled me around and in a second his hand rested on my waist as he urged me to walk next to him. He was in a perfect disguise and I looked at him. I could tell he was smiling beneath his black mask.

"See, this is why I don't trust other guys! How could you let someone do this to you in the midst of the road in a foreign country?", he asked me.

"No stranger would confidently do this to anyone in a foreign country", I playfully hit him on his leg and he stopped, pretending to be gravely hurt. "I can't believe you", I looked at him as I went with his act. I supported him in standing completely. In a second, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I missed you", he softly whispered in my ear.

"I missed you too", I whispered back, softly. I pulled him in an empty alley and pulled his mask down. "I need you to do something", I told him, nibbling on his ear and I could feel my skin feel the heat that it yearned for since a couple of months before him going on tour.

"Right now?", he asked surprised.

"Yeah, right now", I said and I could feel him harden against my pelvis.

"You are...so, not right now. Let's go to your hotel room. I'm still famous", he pulled me closer and I chuckled. He turned me around, pulling his mask down, he kissed me hard. His mouth pressed against mine. I held him tightly and he gasped. "I love you", he softly said before pulling his mask up.

"I, you", I held his hand again.

#bts #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic

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alirhi · 3 years

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10 Sebastian roles as boyfriends

Because... I'm bored and I feel like it. 😂 Probably some spoilers for, like... everything? So yeah... That.

Putting it under here for easy scrolling:

10: Chase Collins

Who doesn't love a goofball? In the first half of the movie, Chase is basically perfect. He's sweet, funny, not all caught up in his ego, and actually pays attention to what the girls around him are saying, not just to what he wants to hear. If not for the whole... it was all an act to get close to Caleb and try to steal his magic thing, Chase would actually be a damn good high school boyfriend. He's adorable and would be a fun date, but he's also only 18 so best not to start making long-term plans lol. Also, y'know... the whole psycho revenge/power grab thing.

9 Jack Benjamin

Y'all. Y'all. Words cannot describe how much I love Jack. Pretty sure I've made this clear. As a person/character in general, he's absolutely in my Top 3 - not just of Sebastian's characters, but any character ever. ❤ But as a boyfriend? Boy's got baggage. It's what makes me so protective of him, but seeing as how he's trapped in the closet thanks to his overbearing homophobic family and the insane expectations heaped on him, as the show left him, he can't handle an honest relationship. He's too easily influenced by all the wrong people, poor babe.

8 Chris (Destroyer)

On paper, undercover cop sounds cool and exciting, but even if you ignore the fact that he, y'know, dies... Chris got in too deep and kinda lost the mission, so to speak. Best case scenario, you're his sexy partner and in on it all with him and end up on the lam for the rest of your lives. Worst case, this man lies for a living, so can you even trust him? And... yeah. The whole dead thing. Chris is hot af but getting involved with him is a recipe for disaster.

7 Ben

Min and Hathor have mercy, I love Ben! He's smart, he's snarky, he's caring and loyal... he's an absolute disaster. He's another one who seems allergic to honesty, until his lying and avoiding nearly kill his girlfriend. Not exactly relationship goals lol. Everything before totally was, though! Ben's adorable, and I love how he stayed up all night to protect his girlfriend (from a ghost/demon thing... with a baseball bat. I said he was smart, not perfect, okay? XD points for effort lol)

6 Mickey Henry

I. LOVE. MICKEY. Oml I love Mickey. He's a spazz and - even more so than Ben - an absolute disaster of a human being, but I love him. Pros for dating Mickey Henry: he's fun, he's carefree, he'll cook for you even though he's kinda bad at it lol, he loves his son and wants to be a good dad, he wants his partner to be happy and to love life as much as he does. Cons, and the reason he's not higher on the list: He's a pushover; easily influenced by the toxic people in his life, and it gets him into a lot of trouble. Being easily influenced by toxic dumpster fire of a human being Chloe almost lost him the partial custody of his son that he barely even had. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he's a complete man-child, and dating him would often feel more like raising him.

5 Frank "Suffer Buddy"

Come on! You know he and Mickey had to be back-to-back - they're practically the same character! 😂 Frank is Mickey... slightly more grown up. He's still a disaster, but he's respectful of boundaries, he's caring, he's funny in a dry, witty way that I just adore, and hoo lordy that man is a giver! 🥴🥵 Honestly, if he didn't smoke and didn't ditch Daphne in the middle of a party hours away from everything familiar to her surrounded by strangers to go do drugs, I'd call Frank perfect. He listened, he respected her wishes, he tried to keep some distance between them when he found out she'd gone on a date with his best friend (it failed utterly and brought us to the "damn that man's good with his mouth" portion of the movie lmao but still)... I don't have a whole lot of experience with men who actually give a shit, okay? So Frank is like a goddamn unicorn to me lmao. But that drug thing... That keeps him at the bottom of the Top 5 for me. Sorry, bb

4 Bucky

I can already hear everyone on here raging at me for placing Bucky so low on this list, but hear me out: I love this man. I love all four iterations of this man. Flirty 40s Bucky was a doll (fun date, not commitment material). Post-POW camp 40s Bucky had a fire to him that set me on fire. The Winter Soldier can choke me any damn day. Unf. And TFATWS Bucky... Oh, lady above, 2023 Bucky is a gem! He's sweet, snarky, and broken. He feels utterly, wretchedly alone in the world, and everyone around him, including his only friend, is telling him to "man up" and "make amends" for shit that was never his fault to begin with, rather than helping him come to terms with all that he's suffered and all that he's survived. Bucky needs and deserves love. A relationship with him would be so solid, if he found the right person... But it would take a fuck ton of work. He needs someone strong, patient, and more stubborn than he is to prod him until he finds a better therapist and actually opens up, and to keep him on track because even good therapy comes with homework. He does have to "do the work," Sam was right about that much, but he was way off base with what that "work" is. Bucky needs help and understanding, and he would be an amazing boyfriend... if he found someone with the strength to help him weather his nightmares and flashbacks, and help pull him out of this PTSD pit he's been in since 1943.

3 Chris Beck

Big brains turn me on, okay? 😂This man is an astronaut and a surgeon! Yes, please! Come here, you sexy genius! He's smart, he's funny - pretty sure Sebastian is incapable of playing anyone who's not delightfully snarky lol. He's pragmatic when he needs to be but there's also nothing he wouldn't do or risk for the ones he loves. This man is husband material and I cannot be convinced otherwise! So why isn't he #1? Cuz of the whole... spending years in space, thing. Super cool job and I'd be his biggest fan on the ground, but god damn, I would miss him while he's away!

2 TJ Hammond

Look, I'm gender fluid and he's a little bit bi 😂😂😂 Let me have my fantasy, okay? TJ's definitely got a lot of shit to work through, but love brings out the best in him. Before that fucking closeted shitbag broke his heart and stomped on it for good measure, TJ was clean and sober for months, he was happy, he was playing piano again, he was pulling himself together. Not only would he be an amazing boyfriend, but his partner would get the extra joy of getting to watch their love and devotion to him be the thing that saves this beautiful man's life. It's not healthy overall to tie your self worth and will to live to a relationship, but if he found the right person who would be there for him through all of life's shit and stick it out, I think he'd be okay. Even after his lowest point and without the support of his family, TJ still had a dream and he still chased it. He's not just the sweetest person to ever grace our screens, but he's ambitious and business-savvy, too. Keep him off drugs and watch this man take over the world, I'm telling you!

So why is TJ only #2? Well, besides the fact that he's like 99% gay and I have no bits he'd be interested in lmao, there's also the fact that this guy owns my heart:

1 Will Franklyn

And not just because we get to see him wet and mostly naked lol. Will is fucking perfect. I would die for this man... because he's already shown that he would die for his love. He almost fucking did, and they weren't even together yet! He's smart and very aware, he's a writer so we'd get to bond/geek out over books together, he's not all full of himself (self-deprecating humor ftw!) and he's willing to help a total stranger despite actual mortal peril, just because it's the right thing to do. Fierce, intelligent, sassy, strong-willed, and a flawless moral compass? YESYESYESYESYES! Forget boyfriend - let me MARRY this man! 😍🥰

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cocobeanncteez · 4 years

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ATEEZ Wooyoung- School President (Oneshot)

Genre: light angst, suggestive/steamy, high school au.

Pairing: SchoolPresident!Wooyoung x badgirl!reader

Warnings: none.

"Miss L/N, detention after school till 4 p.m." your chemistry teacher said, making you mentally groan. It was the last class of the day and you were dying to go home, but now you had to stay for an extra hour. All your classmates turned to look at you, but they weren't surprised. "You still haven't submitted the assignment."

"Can I just submit it tomorrow?" you asked in a bored tone.

"No, you were supposed to submit it a week ago," she said, gathering her stuff to leave the class. "Detention with Mrs. Hwang today." You heard people around you snicker. Well, fuck. Mrs. Hwang was the strictest teacher in school. Even you were scared of her despite your badass attitude.

You got up from your seat, leaving the classroom with an annoyed expression on your face.

"Detention again, Y/N?" your bestfriend asked as she made her way to you with your other friends.

You rolled your eyes. "Ms. Jang will never fucking let me live in peace. I'll see you guys tomorrow," you said, making your way to detention.

You were surprised to find the room empty. Usually, there would always be about three or five students. Since no one was here, you decided to ditch; you would skip school the next day so that your teachers will forget about it. You turned around to leave, but ended up bumping into someone, slightly startling yourself.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at your school president and heartthrob—also called 'senior's eye candy' at your school—Jung Wooyoung.

You had to admit, he was certainly the most handsome guy you've ever seen. Jung Wooyoung was absolutely perfect. Every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. You were sure half your school tried to hit on him despite the fact that he has a girlfriend.

"Unfortunately, I'm here to make sure that you won't escape detention as Mrs. Hwang is busy, so take a seat," he said, moving around you to sit on a chair and taking a notebook out of his bag.

You always found Jung Wooyoung very interesting. Other guys like him—the nerdy ones—can't even talk to you, let alone look you in the eye. Jung Wooyoung was the complete opposite.

You sat on one of the chairs, immediately taking your phone out.

"You can't use your phone here," Wooyoung said, not looking up at you from his notebook. "Why don't you complete your assignment?"

You scoffed. "And if I don't? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Nothing," he said, looking at you. "It's not affecting me in any way, so I don't care. However, Ms. Jang is gonna fail you again if you don't submit your assignment."

You knew he was right. And that annoyed you; you really just wanted to shut his pretty mouth up.

"Whatever," you mumbled, taking out a notebook and the assignment sheet to start working on the reactions you had to write.

However, you were completely blank. You didn't know or understand a word given on the sheet. You bit your lip as you stared at the sheet, wondering what to do.

Finally, you took out your phone and googled all the reactions, easily finishing the assignment in less than half an hour.

"You know, you won't be able to copy during finals," Wooyoung said, closing his notebook. "Even if you're copying now, at least learn what you've copied."

"I didn't ask for your comments," you retort. He was about to say something, but his phone rang.

"Hey, baby," he answered. " . . . I'm in charge of detention today . . . Oh, that's okay," his face fell slightly. " . . . No, it's alright. We can go some other day . . . Hmm, I love you too. Bye!"

You snorted, feeling bad for the boy. You were surprised someone as smart as him hasn't figured out that his girlfriend has been cheating on him. You've seen his girlfriend shoving her tongue down random people in the club, and hitting on people at your school. You remembered how shocked you were when you first found out that she was cheating on him; because why would anyone cheat on someone as perfect as Jung Wooyoung?

"You can leave now," Wooyoung said, getting up from his seat. "Detention is over." You nodded, leaving as fast as you can, just wanting to go home and sleep.

"Your grades aren't very bad, but they aren't great either, Y/N," your class teacher said. "You'll get into an average college with these grades. But I know you can do much better. So I've asked one of the prefects to tutor you in Chemistry and Physics."

You groaned. "Can I do it by myself?"

"You wouldn't do it by yourself," she said. "Anyway, Jung Wooyoung will be tutoring you. Discuss and decide your timings with him. I expect you to score well on the next exam. I do not want to see you fail in any subject again." Before you could say anything, the door to the staff room opened, revealing none other than Jung Wooyoung. "Ah, Wooyoung, I just told Y/N that you will be tutoring her," she said. "I'm expecting you to do a great job."

Wooyoung smiled. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Park. But Y/N must put in efforts or else there's no point," he stated in a polite tone, and you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, that's true," she turned to look at you. "I'm expecting nothing but your best efforts, Y/N." She's always expecting something, huh, you thought. You only smiled, bowing politely.

"I'll do my best."

"What the actual fuck is this?" you mumbled, staring at the lengthy derivation written in Wooyoung's notebook. He rolled his eyes, so tired of hearing you say that to literally everything you saw written in his notebook.

"Ah, why did they have to make me tutor you of all people?" he whined. "You clearly haven't paid attention in class for even half a second."

"No one told you to accept it," you said, ignoring his last comment.

"I had to," he scoffed, stretching his arms out, making you glance at the veins on his arms. "Extra credits, you know?"

"Nerd," you muttered under your breath. He heard you, but didn't say anything. He began teaching you how to derive it; you paid attention for the first few seconds before zoning out. When you zoned back in, he asked you to explain what he just explained. You bit your lip, thinking of what to say.

He sighed. "You didn't pay attention again."

"I zoned out, sorry."

"That's what you said for the previous derivation," he said, a disappointed look on his face while he packed up his things.

"You're leaving already?" you asked, glancing at the time on your phone; you still had twenty minutes left.

"I'm not going to waste my time teaching you right now," he said. "You clearly aren't in the mood to focus." You only scoffed, watching him leave the library. You bit your lip, feeling kinda bad for not paying attention when he was making an effort to teach you.

The look of disappointment he showed you had somehow made you determined to prove that you could focus and do better.

You were at Wooyoung's house, sitting on his bed and scrolling through your social media while waiting for him to finish changing out of his uniform. You spent an entire two weeks studying your ass off, and you were proud you made a big improvement, thanks to Wooyoung. He was quite surprised that you were actually making an effort to understand whatever he taught you. You both even became friends, and you were quite happy about that.

"I'm done," he said, coming out of his bathroom, making you look up from your phone. You held your breath at the sight of Wooyoung dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top. You couldn't stop yourself from checking him out: the veins running down his muscled arms, his exposed collarbones, his sharp jawline, his plump lips . . .

You were so immersed into checking him out, you didn't realize he was doing the same to you. He loved how your uniform skirt rid up your thighs, and how another two buttons on your shirt were unbuttoned, exposing a little bit of your cleavage. Before you knew it, he was slowly making his way towards you, eyes now locked with yours.

"Let's start, hmm?" he said with a smirk; he knew you were checking him out.

You clear your throat a little. "Yeah, let's start."

You spent the next half an hour trying to pay attention to whatever Wooyoung was teaching you. It didn't help that he absentmindedly placed his hand on your knee, or brushed your hand with his; he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Your mind kept wandering to the things you want him to do to you right now on his bed.

" . . . and now you should tell me," he leaned a little close to you with a smirk, making your heartbeat speed up. "Which formula should be used?"

"Fuck this," you muttered, pushing the books aside before straddling Wooyoung's lap.

"Took you long enough," he chuckled, and you crashed your lips on his. He instantly kissed you back, hands moving to grip your waist. You wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you have been dreaming about kissing Wooyoung the second he talked back to you a year ago.

You pulled away to litter his neck in kisses, sucking the skin gently. He groaned softly, making you smirk. "Fan of neck kisses?"

"You have no idea," he said, hands moving underneath your skirt to grip your bare inner thighs. He gave it a squeeze, making you involuntarily grind down on him. He moaned at the feeling, encouraging you to do it again. You moved your lips back to his, grinding on him even more. Wooyoung's hands slipped into your panties, grabbing your ass to help you grind down on him faster. The friction made you moan, craving for more. You tugged on his shirt, breaking the kiss to let him pull it off. You ran your hand down his toned torso in awe, loving the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. Your eyes widened at the tattoo above his hip bone. "You have a tattoo?!"

Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving you off of him so that he could hover over you. "Mhmm, bet you never expected the nerdy school president to have a tattoo, huh?" Your hands moved to his hair, playing it with while he began to kiss your neck, driving you crazy.

Wooyoung kissed down your chest till where your shirt was unbuttoned. He glanced up at you, fingers toying with the buttons. "Can I?" he asked. You nodded, letting him unbutton your shirt and slip it off you. You sucked in a breath when he ran his fingers over the lacy material of your bra.

"Take it off," you whined, making him chuckle.

"Patience, baby," he said, one hand gently rubbing your thigh.

But you really didn't have any patience right now.

You brought his lips to yours while you moved his hand to touch you where you desperately needed him, surprising him a little. He kissed you back hungrily while his finger moved on your clothed clit, applying pressure, making you get wetter. Your moans made him smirk; he loved how he was the reason behind it.

You both got startled at the sudden sound of his garage opening. He halted his movements, pulling away from you instantly.

"One of my parents is back from work," he said, quickly putting on his tank top and handing you your uniform shirt. You quickly buttoned it and straightened out your hair; you really did not want Wooyoung's strict parents to suspect anything since they already did not like the idea of him tutoring you in his final year of high school.

Wooyoung's father knocked on his bedroom door before opening it, finding you and Wooyoung busy writing equations.

"Oh, hey, dad! How was work?" Wooyoung asked with a sweet, innocent smile like as if he wasn't smirking a few minutes ago while touching you.

"Hello, Mr. Jung," you said politely.

"Hello, Y/N," he said. "Work was all right, as usual. How is your tutoring session going?"

"Good, dad," Wooyoung said, trying to control himself from smirking. "It's going really great."

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innuendostudios · 3 years

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Thoughts on: Criterion's Neo-Noir Collection

I have written up all 26 films* in the Criterion Channel's Neo-Noir Collection.

Legend: rw - rewatch; a movie I had seen before going through the collection dnrw - did not rewatch; if a movie met two criteria (a. I had seen it within the last 18 months, b. I actively dislike it) I wrote it up from memory.

* in September, Brick leaves the Criterion Channel and is replaced in the collection with Michael Mann's Thief. May add it to the list when that happens.

Note: These are very "what was on my mind after watching." No effort has been made to avoid spoilers, nor to make the plot clear for anyone who hasn't seen the movies in question. Decide for yourself if that's interesting to you.

Cotton Comes to Harlem I feel utterly unequipped to asses this movie. This and Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song the following year are regularly cited as the progenitors of the blaxploitation genre. (This is arguably unfair, since both were made by Black men and dealt much more substantively with race than the white-directed films that followed them.) Its heroes are a couple of Black cops who are treated with suspicion both by their white colleagues and by the Black community they're meant to police. I'm not 100% clear on whether they're the good guys? I mean, I think they are. But the community's suspicion of them seems, I dunno... well-founded? They are working for The Man. And there's interesting discussion to the had there - is the the problem that the law is carried out by racists, or is the law itself racist? Can Black cops make anything better? But it feels like the film stacks the deck in Gravedigger and Coffin Ed's favor; the local Black church is run by a conman, the Back-to-Africa movement is, itself, a con, and the local Black Power movement is treated as an obstacle. Black cops really are the only force for justice here. Movie portrays Harlem itself as a warm, thriving, cultured community, but the people that make up that community are disloyal and easily fooled. Felt, to me, like the message was "just because they're cops doesn't mean they don't have Black soul," which, nowadays, we would call copaganda. But, then, do I know what I'm talking about? Do I know how much this played into or off of or against stereotypes from 1970? Was this a radical departure I don't have the context to appreciate? Is there substance I'm too white and too many decades removed to pick up on? Am I wildly overthinking this? I dunno. Seems like everyone involved was having a lot of fun, at least. That bit is contagious.

Across 110th Street And here's the other side of the "race film" equation. Another movie set in Harlem with a Black cop pulled between the police, the criminals, and the public, but this time the film is made by white people. I like it both more and less. Pro: this time the difficult position of Black cop who's treated with suspicion by both white cops and Black Harlemites is interrogated. Con: the Black cop has basically no personality other than "honest cop." Pro: the racism of the police force is explicit and systemic, as opposed to comically ineffectual. Con: the movie is shaped around a racist white cop who beats the shit out of Black people but slowly forms a bond with his Black partner. Pro: the Black criminal at the heart of the movie talks openly about how the white world has stacked the deck against him, and he's soulful and relateable. Con: so of course he dies in the end, because the only way privileged people know to sympathetize with minorities is to make them tragic (see also: The Boys in the Band, Philadelphia, and Brokeback Mountain for gay men). Additional con: this time Harlem is portrayed as a hellhole. Barely any of the community is even seen. At least the shot at the end, where the criminal realizes he's going to die and throws the bag of money off a roof and into a playground so the Black kids can pick it up before the cops reclaim it was powerful. But overall... yech. Cotton Comes to Harlem felt like it wasn't for me; this feels like it was 100% for me and I respect it less for that.

The Long Goodbye (rw) The shaggiest dog. Like much Altman, more compelling than good, but very compelling. Raymond Chandler's story is now set in the 1970's, but Philip Marlowe is the same Philip Marlowe of the 1930's. I get the sense there was always something inherently sad about Marlowe. Classic noir always portrayed its detectives as strong-willed men living on the border between the straightlaced world and its seedy underbelly, crossing back and forth freely but belonging to neither. But Chandler stresses the loneliness of it - or, at least, the people who've adapted Chandler do. Marlowe is a decent man in an indecent world, sorting things out, refusing to profit from misery, but unable to set anything truly right. Being a man out of step is here literalized by putting him forty years from the era where he belongs. His hardboiled internal monologue is now the incessant mutterings of the weird guy across the street who never stops smoking. Like I said: compelling! Kael's observation was spot on: everyone in the movie knows more about the mystery than he does, but he's the only one who cares. The mystery is pretty threadbare - Marlowe doesn't detect so much as end up in places and have people explain things to him. But I've seen it two or three times now, and it does linger.

Chinatown (rw) I confess I've always been impressed by Chinatown more than I've liked it. Its story structure is impeccable, its atmosphere is gorgeous, its noirish fatalism is raw and real, its deconstruction of the noir hero is well-observed, and it's full of clever detective tricks (the pocket watches, the tail light, the ruler). I've just never connected with it. Maybe it's a little too perfectly crafted. (I feel similar about Miller's Crossing.) And I've always been ambivalent about the ending. In Towne's original ending, Evelyn shoots Noah Cross dead and get arrested, and neither she nor Jake can tell the truth of why she did it, so she goes to jail for murder and her daughter is in the wind. Polansky proposed the ending that exists now, where Evelyn just dies, Cross wins, and Jake walks away devastated. It communicates the same thing: Jake's attempt to get smart and play all the sides off each other instead of just helping Evelyn escape blows up in his face at the expense of the woman he cares about and any sense of real justice. And it does this more dramatically and efficiently than Towne's original ending. But it also treats Evelyn as narratively disposable, and hands the daughter over to the man who raped Evelyn and murdered her husband. It makes the women suffer more to punch up the ending. But can I honestly say that Towne's ending is the better one? It is thematically equal, dramatically inferior, but would distract me less. Not sure what the calculus comes out to there. Maybe there should be a third option. Anyway! A perfect little contraption. Belongs under a glass dome.

Night Moves (rw) Ah yeah, the good shit. This is my quintessential 70's noir. This is three movies in a row about detectives. Thing is, the classic era wasn't as chockablock with hardboiled detectives as we think; most of those movies starred criminals, cops, and boring dudes seduced to the darkness by a pair of legs. Gumshoes just left the strongest impressions. (The genre is said to begin with Maltese Falcon and end with Touch of Evil, after all.) So when the post-Code 70's decided to pick the genre back up while picking it apart, it makes sense that they went for the 'tecs first. The Long Goodbye dragged the 30's detective into the 70's, and Chinatown went back to the 30's with a 70's sensibility. But Night Moves was about detecting in the Watergate era, and how that changed the archetype. Harry Moseby is the detective so obsessed with finding the truth that he might just ruin his life looking for it, like the straight story will somehow fix everything that's broken, like it'll bring back a murdered teenager and repair his marriage and give him a reason to forgive the woman who fucked him just to distract him from some smuggling. When he's got time to kill, he takes out a little, magnetic chess set and recreates a famous old game, where three knight moves (get it?) would have led to a beautiful checkmate had the player just seen it. He keeps going, self-destructing, because he can't stand the idea that the perfect move is there if he can just find it. And, no matter how much we see it destroy him, we, the audience, want him to keep going; we expect a satisfying resolution to the mystery. That's what we need from a detective picture; one character flat-out compares Harry to Sam Spade. But what if the truth is just... Watergate? Just some prick ruining things for selfish reasons? Nothing grand, nothing satisfying. Nothing could be more noir, or more neo-, than that.

Farewell, My Lovely Sometimes the only thing that makes a noir neo- is that it's in color and all the blood, tits, and racism from the books they're based on get put back in. This second stab at Chandler is competant but not much more than that. Mitchum works as Philip Marlowe, but Chandler's dialogue feels off here, like lines that worked on the page don't work aloud, even though they did when Bogie said them. I'll chalk it up to workmanlike but uninspired direction. (Dang this looks bland so soon after Chinatown.) Moose Malloy is a great character, and perfectly cast. (Wasn't sure at first, but it's true.) Some other interesting cats show up and vanish - the tough brothel madam based on Brenda Allen comes to mind, though she's treated with oddly more disdain than most of the other hoods and is dispatched quicker. In general, the more overt racism and misogyny doesn't seem to do anything except make the movie "edgier" than earlier attempts at the same material, and it reads kinda try-hard. But it mostly holds together. *shrug*

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (dnrw) Didn't care for this at all. Can't tell if the script was treated as a jumping-off point or if the dialogue is 100% improvised, but it just drags on forever and is never that interesting. Keeps treating us to scenes from the strip club like they're the opera scenes in Amadeus, and, whatever, I don't expect burlesque to be Mozart, but Cosmo keeps saying they're an artful, classy joint, and I keep waiting for the show to be more than cheap, lazy camp. How do you make gratuitious nudity boring? Mind you, none of this is bad as a rule - I love digressions and can enjoy good sleaze, and it's clear the filmmakers care about what they're making. They just did not sell it in a way I wanted to buy. Can't remember what edit I watched; I hope it was the 135 minute one, because I cannot imagine there being a longer edit out there.

The American Friend (dnrw) It's weird that this is Patricia Highsmith, right? That Dennis Hopper is playing Tom Ripley? In a cowboy hat? I gather that Minghella's version wasn't true to the source, but I do love that movie, and this is a long, long way from that. This Mr. Ripley isn't even particularly talented! Anyway, this has one really great sequence, where a regular guy has been coerced by crooks into murdering someone on a train platform, and, when the moment comes to shoot, he doesn't. And what follows is a prolonged sequence of an amateur trying to surreptitiously tail a guy across a train station and onto another train, and all the while you're not sure... is he going to do it? is he going to chicken out? is he going to do it so badly he gets caught? It's hard not to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes, wondering how you would handle the situation, whether you could do it, whether you could act on impulse before your conscience could catch up with you. It drags on a long while and this time it's a good thing. Didn't much like the rest of the movie, it's shapeless and often kind of corny, and the central plot hook is contrived. (It's also very weird that this is the only Wim Wenders I've seen.) But, hey, I got one excellent sequence, not gonna complain.

The Big Sleep Unlike the 1946 film, I can follow the plot of this Big Sleep. But, also unlike the 1946 version, this one isn't any damn fun. Mitchum is back as Marlowe (this is three Marlowes in five years, btw), and this time it's set in the 70's and in England, for some reason. I don't find this offensive, but neither do I see what it accomplishes? Most of the cast is still American. (Hi Jimmy!) Still holds together, but even less well than Farewell, My Lovely. But I do find it interesting that the neo-noir era keeps returning to Chandler while it's pretty much left Hammet behind (inasmuch as someone whose genes are spread wide through the whole genre can be left behind). Spade and the Continental Op, straightshooting tough guys who come out on top in the end, seem antiquated in the (post-)modern era. But Marlowe's goodness being out of sync with the world around him only seems more poignant the further you take him from his own time. Nowadays you can really only do Hammett as pastiche, but I sense that you could still play Chandler straight.

Eyes of Laura Mars The most De Palma movie I've seen not made by De Palma, complete with POV shots, paranormal hoodoo, and fixation with sex, death, and whether images of such are art or exploitation (or both). Laura Mars takes photographs of naked women in violent tableux, and has gotten quite famous doing so, but is it damaging to women? The movie has more than a superficial engagement with this topic, but only slightly more than superficial. Kept imagining a movie that is about 30% less serial killer story and 30% more art conversations. (But, then, I have an art degree and have never murdered anyone, so.) Like, museums are full of Biblical paintings full of nude women and slaughter, sometimes both at once, and they're called masterpieces. Most all of them were painted by men on commission from other men. Now Laura Mars makes similar images in modern trappings, and has models made of flesh and blood rather than paint, and it's scandalous? Why is it only controversial once women are getting paid for it? On the other hand, is this just the master's tools? Is she subverting or challenging the male gaze, or just profiting off of it? Or is a woman profiting off of it, itself, a subversion? Is it subversive enough to account for how it commodifies female bodies? These questions are pretty clearly relevant to the movie itself, and the movies in general, especially after the fall of the Hays Code when people were really unrestrained with the blood and boobies. And, heck, the lead is played by the star of Bonnie and Clyde! All this is to say: I wish the movie were as interested in these questions as I am. What's there is a mildly diverting B-picture. There's one great bit where Laura's seeing through the killer's eyes (that's the hook, she gets visions from the murderer's POV; no, this is never explained) and he's RIGHT BEHIND HER, so there's a chase where she charges across an empty room only able to see her own fleeing self from ten feet behind. That was pretty great! And her first kiss with the detective (because you could see a mile away that the detective and the woman he's supposed to protect are gonna fall in love) is immediately followed by the two freaking out about how nonsensical it is for them to fall in love with each other, because she's literally mourning multiple deaths and he's being wildly unprofessional, and then they go back to making out. That bit was great, too. The rest... enh.

The Onion Field What starts off as a seemingly not-that-noirish cops-vs-crooks procedural turns into an agonizingly protracted look at the legal system, with the ultimate argument that the very idea of the law ever resulting in justice is a lie. Hoo! I have to say, I'm impressed. There's a scene where a lawyer - whom I'm not sure is even named, he's like the seventh of thirteen we've met - literally quits the law over how long this court case about two guys shooting a cop has taken. He says the cop who was murdered has been forgotten, his partner has never gotten to move on because the case has lasted eight years, nothing has been accomplished, and they should let the two criminals walk and jail all the judges and lawyers instead. It's awesome! The script is loaded with digressions and unnecessary details, just the way I like it. Can't say I'm impressed with the execution. Nothing is wrong, exactly, but the performances all seem a tad melodramatic or a tad uninspired. Camerawork is, again, purely functional. It's no masterpiece. But that second half worked for me. (And it's Ted Danson's first movie! He did great.)

Body Heat (rw) Let's say up front that this is a handsomely-made movie. Probably the best looking thing on the list since Night Moves. Nothing I've seen better captures the swelter of an East Coast heatwave, or the lusty feeling of being too hot to bang and going at it regardless. Kathleen Turner sells the hell out of a femme fatale. There are a lot of good lines and good performances (Ted Danson is back and having the time of his life). I want to get all that out of the way, because this is a movie heavily modeled after Double Indemnity, and I wanted to discuss its merits before I get into why inviting that comparison doesn't help the movie out. In a lot of ways, it's the same rules as the Robert Mitchum Marlowe movies - do Double Indemnity but amp up the sex and violence. And, to a degree it works. (At least, the sex does, dunno that Double Indemnity was crying out for explosions.) But the plot is amped as well, and gets downright silly. Yeah, Mrs. Dietrichson seduces Walter Neff so he'll off her husband, but Neff clocks that pretty early and goes along with it anyway. Everything beyond that is two people keeping too big a secret and slowly turning on each other. But here? For the twists to work Matty has to be, from frame one, playing four-dimensional chess on the order of Senator Palpatine, and its about as plausible. (Exactly how did she know, after she rebuffed Ned, he would figure out her local bar and go looking for her at the exact hour she was there?) It's already kind of weird to be using the spider woman trope in 1981, but to make her MORE sexually conniving and mercenary than she was in the 40's is... not great. As lurid trash, it's pretty fun for a while, but some noir stuff can't just be updated, it needs to be subverted or it doesn't justify its existence.

Blow Out Brian De Palma has two categories of movie: he's got his mainstream, director-for-hire fare, where his voice is either reigned in or indulged in isolated sequences that don't always jive with the rest fo the film, and then there's his Brian De Palma movies. My mistake, it seems, is having seen several for-hires from throughout his career - The Untouchables (fine enough), Carlito's Way (ditto, but less), Mission: Impossible (enh) - but had only seen De Palma-ass movies from his late period (Femme Fatale and The Black Dahlia, both of which I think are garbage). All this to say: Blow Out was my first classic-era De Palma, and holy fucking shit dudes. This was (with caveats) my absolute and entire jam. I said I could enjoy good sleaze, and this is good friggin' sleaze. (Though far short of De Palma at his sleaziest, mercifully.) The splitscreens, the diopter shots, the canted angles, how does he make so many shlocky things work?! John Travolta's sound tech goes out to get fresh wind fx for the movie he's working on, and we get this wonderful sequence of visuals following sounds as he turns his attention and his microphone to various noises - a couple on a walk, a frog, an owl, a buzzing street lamp. Later, as he listens back to the footage, the same sequence plays again, but this time from his POV; we're seeing his memory as guided by the same sequence of sounds, now recreated with different shots, as he moves his pencil in the air mimicking the microphone. When he mixes and edits sounds, we hear the literal soundtrack of the movie we are watching get mixed and edited by the person on screen. And as he tries to unravel a murder mystery, he uses what's at hand: magnetic tape, flatbed editors, an animation camera to turn still photos from the crime scene into a film and sync it with the audio he recorded; it's forensics using only the tools of the editing room. As someone who's spent some time in college editing rooms, this is a hoot and a half. Loses a bit of steam as it goes on and the film nerd stuff gives way to a more traditional thriller, but rallies for a sound-tech-centered final setpiece, which steadily builds to such madcap heights you can feel the air thinning, before oddly cutting its own tension and then trying to build it back up again. It doesn't work as well the second time. But then, that shot right after the climax? Damn. Conflicted on how the movie treats the female lead. I get why feminist film theorists are so divided on De Palma. His stuff is full of things feminists (rightly) criticize, full of women getting naked when they're not getting stabbed, but he also clearly finds women fascinating and has them do empowered and unexpected things, and there are many feminist reads of his movies. Call it a mixed bag. But even when he's doing tropey shit, he explores the tropes in unexpected ways. Definitely the best movie so far that I hadn't already seen.

Cutter's Way (rw) Alex Cutter is pitched to us as an obnoxious-but-sympathetic son of a bitch, and, you know, two out of three ain't bad. Watched this during my 2020 neo-noir kick and considered skipping it this time because I really didn't enjoy it. Found it a little more compelling this go around, while being reminded of why my feelings were room temp before. Thematically, I'm onboard: it's about a guy, Cutter, getting it in his head that he's found a murderer and needs to bring him to justice, and his friend, Bone, who intermittently helps him because he feels bad that Cutter lost his arm, leg, and eye in Nam and he also feels guilty for being in love with Cutter's wife. The question of whether the guy they're trying to bring down actually did it is intentionally undefined, and arguably unimportant; they've got personal reasons to see this through. Postmodern and noirish, fixated with the inability to ever fully know the truth of anything, but starring people so broken by society that they're desperate for certainty. (Pretty obvious parallels to Vietnam.) Cutter's a drunk and kind of an asshole, but understandably so. Bone's shiftlessness is the other response to a lack of meaning in the world, to the point where making a decision, any decision, feels like character growth, even if it's maybe killing a guy whose guilt is entirely theoretical. So, yeah, I'm down with all of this! A- in outline form. It's just that Cutter is so uninterestingly unpleasant and no one else on screen is compelling enough to make up for it. His drunken windups are tedious and his sanctimonious speeches about what the war was like are, well, true and accurate but also obviously manipulative. It's two hours with two miserable people, and I think Cutter's constant chatter is supposed to be the comic relief but it's a little too accurate to drunken rambling, which isn't funny if you're not also drunk. He's just tedious, irritating, and periodically racist. Pass.

Blood Simple (rw) I'm pretty cool on the Coens - there are things I've liked, even loved, in every Coen film I've seen, but I always come away dissatisfied. For a while, I kept going to their movies because I was sure eventually I'd love one without qualification. No Country for Old Men came close, the first two acts being master classes in sustained tension. But then the third act is all about denying closure: the protagonist is murdered offscreen, the villain's motives are never explained, and it ends with an existentialist speech about the unfathomable cruelty of the world. And it just doesn't land for me. The archness of the Coen's dialogue, the fussiness of their set design, the kinda-intimate, kinda-awkward, kinda-funny closeness of the camera's singles, it cannot sell me on a devastating meditation about meaninglessness. It's only ever sold me on the Coens' own cleverness. And that archness, that distancing, has typified every one of their movies I've come close to loving. Which is a long-ass preamble to saying, holy heck, I was not prepared for their very first movie to be the one I'd been looking for! I watched it last year and it remains true on rewatch: Blood Simple works like gangbusters. It's kind of Double Indemnity (again) but played as a comedy of errors, minus the comedy: two people romantically involved feeling their trust unravel after a murder. And I think the first thing that works for me is that utter lack of comedy. It's loaded with the Coens' trademark ironies - mostly dramatic in this case - but it's all played straight. Unlike the usual lead/femme fatale relationship, where distrust brews as the movie goes on, the audience knows the two main characters can trust each other. There are no secret duplicitous motives waiting to be revealed. The audience also know why they don't trust each other. (And it's all communicated wordlessly, btw: a character enters a scene and we know, based on the information that character has, how it looks to them and what suspicions it would arouse, even as we know the truth of it). The second thing that works is, weirdly, that the characters aren't very interesting?! Ray and Abby have almost no characterization. Outside of a general likability, they are blank slates. This is a weakness in most films, but, given the agonizingly long, wordless sequences where they dispose of bodies or hide from gunfire, you're left thinking not "what will Ray/Abby do in this scenario," because Ray and Abby are relatively elemental and undefined, but "what would I do in this scenario?" Which creates an exquisite tension but also, weirdly, creates more empathy than I feel for the Coens' usual cast of personalities. It's supposed to work the other way around! Truly enjoyable throughout but absolutely wonderful in the suspenseful-as-hell climax. Good shit right here.

Body Double The thing about erotic thrillers is everything that matters is in the name. Is it thrilling? Is it erotic? Good; all else is secondary. De Palma set out to make the most lurid, voyeuristic, horny, violent, shocking, steamy movie he could come up with, and its success was not strictly dependent on the lead's acting ability or the verisimilitude of the plot. But what are we, the modern audience, to make of it once 37 years have passed and, by today's standards, the eroticism is quite tame and the twists are no longer shocking? Then we're left with a nonsensical riff on Vertigo, a specularization of women that is very hard to justify, and lead actor made of pulped wood. De Palma's obsessions don't cohere into anything more this time; the bits stolen from Hitchcock aren't repurposed to new ends, it really is just Hitch with more tits and less brains. (I mean, I still haven't seen Vertigo, but I feel 100% confident in that statement.) The diopter shots and rear-projections this time look cheap (literally so, apparently; this had 1/3 the budget of Blow Out). There are some mildly interesting setpieces, but nothing compared to Travolta's auditory reconstructions or car chase where he tries to tail a subway train from street level even if it means driving through a frickin parade like an inverted French Connection, goddamn Blow Out was a good movie! Anyway. Melanie Griffith seems to be having fun, at least. I guess I had a little as well, but it was, at best, diverting, and a real letdown.

The Hit Surprised by how much I enjoyed this one. Terrance Stamp flips on the mob and spends ten years living a life of ease in Spain, waiting for the day they find and kill him. Movie kicks off when they do find him, and what follows is a ramshackle road movie as John Hurt and a young Tim Roth attempt to drive him to Paris so they can shoot him in front of his old boss. Stamp is magnetic. He's spent a decade reading philosophy and seems utterly prepared for death, so he spends the trip humming, philosophizing, and being friendly with his captors when he's not winding them up. It remains unclear to the end whether the discord he sews between Roth and Hurt is part of some larger plan of escape or just for shits and giggles. There's also a decent amount of plot for a movie that's not terribly plot-driven - just about every part of the kidnapping has tiny hitches the kidnappers aren't prepared for, and each has film-long repercussions, drawing the cops closer and somehow sticking Laura del Sol in their backseat. The ongoing questions are when Stamp will die, whether del Sol will die, and whether Roth will be able to pull the trigger. In the end, it's actually a meditation on ethics and mortality, but in a quiet and often funny way. It's not going to go down as one of my new favs, but it was a nice way to spend a couple hours.

Trouble in Mind (dnrw) I fucking hated this movie. It's been many months since I watched it, do I remember what I hated most? Was it the bit where a couple of country bumpkins who've come to the city walk into a diner and Mr. Bumpkin clocks that the one Black guy in the back as obviously a criminal despite never having seen him before? Was it the part where Kris Kristofferson won't stop hounding Mrs. Bumpkin no matter how many times she demands to be left alone, and it's played as romantic because obviously he knows what she needs better than she does? Or is it the part where Mr. Bumpkin reluctantly takes a job from the Obvious Criminal (who is, in fact, a criminal, and the only named Black character in the movie if I remember correctly, draw your own conclusions) and, within a week, has become a full-blown hood, which is exemplified by a lot, like, a lot of queer-coding? The answer to all three questions is yes. It's also fucking boring. Even out-of-drag Divine's performance as the villain can't save it.

Manhunter 'sfine? I've still never seen Silence of the Lambs, nor any of the Hopkins Lecter movies, nor, indeed, any full episode of the show. So the unheimlich others get seeing Brian Cox play Hannibal didn't come into play. Cox does a good job with him, but he's barely there. Shame, cuz he's the most interesting part of the movie. Honestly, there's a lot of interesting stuff that's barely there. Will Graham being a guy who gets into the heads of serial killers is explored well enough, and Mann knows how to direct a police procedural such that it's both contemplative and propulsive. But all the other themes it points at? Will's fear that he understands murderers a little too well? Hannibal trying to nudge him towards becoming one? Whatever dance Hannibal and Tooth Fairy are doing? What Tooth Fairy's deal is, anyway? (Why does he wear fake teeth and bite things? Why is he fixated on the red dragon? Does the bit where he says "Francis is gone forever" mean he has DID?) None of it goes anywhere or amounts to anything. I mean, it's certainly more interesting with this stuff than without, but it has that feel of a book that's been pared of its interesting bits to fit the runtime (or, alternately, pulp that's been sloppily elevated). I still haven't made my mind up on Mann's cold, precise camera work, but at least it gives me something to look at. It's fine! This is fine.

Mona Lisa (rw) Gave this one another shot. Bob Hoskins is wonderful as a hood out of his depth in classy places, quick to anger but just as quick to let anger go (the opening sequence where he's screaming on his ex-wife's doorstep, hurling trash cans at her house, and one minute later thrilled to see his old car, is pretty nice). And Cathy Tyson's working girl is a subtler kind of fascinating, exuding a mixture of coldness and kindness. It's just... this is ultimately a story about how heartbreaking it is when the girl you like is gay, right? It's Weezer's Pink Triangle: The Movie. It's not homophobic, exactly - Simone isn't demonized for being a lesbian - but it's still, like, "man, this straight white guy's pain is so much more interesting than the Black queer sex worker's." And when he's yelling "you woulda done it!" at the end, I can't tell if we're supposed to agree with him. Seems pretty clear that she wouldn'ta done it, at least not without there being some reveal about her character that doesn't happen, but I don't think the ending works if we don't agree with him, so... I'm like 70% sure the movie does Simone dirty there. For the first half, their growing relationship feels genuine and natural, and, honestly, the story being about a real bond that unfortunately means different things to each party could work if it didn't end with a gun and a sock in the jaw. Shape feels jagged as well; what feels like the end of the second act or so turns out to be the climax. And some of the symbolism is... well, ok, Simone gives George money to buy more appropriate clothes for hanging out in high end hotels, and he gets a tan leather jacket and a Hawaiian shirt, and their first proper bonding moment is when she takes him out for actual clothes. For the rest of the movie he is rocking double-breasted suits (not sure I agree with the striped tie, but it was the eighties, whaddya gonna do?). Then, in the second half, she sends him off looking for her old streetwalker friend, and now he looks completely out of place in the strip clubs and bordellos. So far so good. But then they have this run-in where her old pimp pulls a knife and cuts George's arm, so, with his nice shirt torn and it not safe going home (I guess?) he starts wearing the Hawaiian shirt again. So around the time he's starting to realize he doesn't really belong in Simone's world or the lowlife world he came from anymore, he's running around with the classy double-breasted suit jacket over the garish Hawaiian shirt, and, yeah, bit on the nose guys. Anyway, it has good bits, I just feel like a movie that asks me to feel for the guy punching a gay, Black woman in the face needs to work harder to earn it. Bit of wasted talent.

The Bedroom Window Starts well. Man starts an affair with his boss' wife, their first night together she witnesses an attempted murder from his window, she worries going to the police will reveal the affair to her husband, so the man reports her testimony to the cops claiming he's the one who saw it. Young Isabelle Huppert is the perfect woman for a guy to risk his career on a crush over, and Young Steve Guttenberg is the perfect balance of affability and amorality. And it flows great - picks just the right media to res. So then he's talking to the cops, telling them what she told him, and they ask questions he forgot to ask her - was the perp's jacket a blazer or a windbreaker? - and he has to guess. Then he gets called into the police lineup, and one guy matches her description really well, but is it just because he's wearing his red hair the way she described it? He can't be sure, doesn't finger any of them. He finds out the cops were pretty certain about one of the guys, so he follows the one he thinks it was around, looking for more evidence, and another girl is attacked right outside a bar he knows the redhead was at. Now he's certain! But he shows the boss' wife the guy and she's not certain, and she reminds him they don't even know if the guy he followed is the same guy the police suspected! And as he feeds more evidence to the cops, he has to lie more, because he can't exactly say he was tailing the guy around the city. So, I'm all in now. Maybe it's because I'd so recently rewatched Night Moves and Cutter's Way, but this seems like another story about uncertainty. He's really certain about the guy because it fits narratively, and we, the audience, feel the same. But he's not actually a witness, he doesn't have actual evidence, he's fitting bits and pieces together like a conspiracy theorist. He's fixating on what he wants to be true. Sign me up! But then it turns out he's 100% correct about who the killer is but his lies are found out and now the cops think he's the killer and I realize, oh, no, this movie isn't nearly as smart as I thought it was. Egg on my face! What transpires for the remaining half of the runtime is goofy as hell, and someone with shlockier sensibilities could have made a meal of it, but Hanson, despite being a Corman protege, takes this silliness seriously in the all wrong ways. Next!

Homicide (rw? I think I saw most of this on TV one time) Homicide centers around the conflicted loyalties of a Jewish cop. It opens with the Jewish cop and his white gentile partner taking over a case with a Black perp from some Black FBI agents. The media is making a big thing about the racial implications of the mostly white cops chasing down a Black man in a Black neighborhood. And inside of 15 minutes the FBI agent is calling the lead a k*ke and the gentile cop is calling the FBI agent a f****t and there's all kinds of invective for Black people. The film is announcing its intentions out the gate: this movie is about race. But the issue here is David Mamet doesn't care about race as anything other than a dramatic device. He's the Ubisoft of filmmakers, having no coherent perspective on social issues but expecting accolades for even bringing them up. Mamet is Jewish (though lead actor Joe Mantegna definitely is not) but what is his position on the Jewish diaspora? The whole deal is Mantegna gets stuck with a petty homicide case instead of the big one they just pinched from the Feds, where a Jewish candy shop owner gets shot in what looks like a stickup. Her family tries to appeal to his Jewishness to get him to take the case seriously, and, after giving them the brush-off for a long time, finally starts following through out of guilt, finding bits and pieces of what may or may not be a conspiracy, with Zionist gun runners and underground neo-Nazis. But, again: all of these are just dramatic devices. Mantegna's Jewishness (those words will never not sound ridiculous together) has always been a liability for him as a cop (we are told, not shown), and taking the case seriously is a reclamation of identity. The Jews he finds community with sold tommyguns to revolutionaries during the founding of Israel. These Jews end up blackmailing him to get a document from the evidence room. So: what is the film's position on placing stock in one's Jewish identity? What is its position on Israel? What is its opinion on Palestine? Because all three come up! And the answer is: Mamet doesn't care. You can read it a lot of different ways. Someone with more context and more patience than me could probably deduce what the de facto message is, the way Chris Franklin deduced the de facto message of Far Cry V despite the game's efforts not to have one, but I'm not going to. Mantegna's attempt to reconnect with his Jewishness gets his partner killed, gets the guy he was supposed to bring in alive shot dead, gets him possibly permanent injuries, gets him on camera blowing up a store that's a front for white nationalists, and all for nothing because the "clues" he found (pretty much exclusively by coincidence) were unconnected nothings. The problem is either his Jewishness, or his lifelong failure to connect with his Jewishness until late in life. Mamet doesn't give a shit. (Like, Mamet canonically doesn't give a shit: he is on record saying social context is meaningless, characters only exist to serve the plot, and there are no deeper meanings in fiction.) Mamet's ping-pong dialogue is fun, as always, and there are some neat ideas and characters, but it's all in service of a big nothing that needed to be a something to work.

Swoon So much I could talk about, let's keep it to the most interesting bits. Hommes Fatales: a thing about classic noir that it was fascinated by the marginal but had to keep it in the margins. Liberated women, queer-coded killers, Black jazz players, broke thieves; they were the main event, they were what audiences wanted to see, they were what made the movies fun. But the ending always had to reassert straightlaced straight, white, middle-class male society as unshakeable. White supremacist capitalist patriarchy demanded, both ideologically and via the Hays Code, that anyone outside these norms be punished, reformed, or dead by the movie's end. The only way to make them the heroes was to play their deaths for tragedy. It is unsurprising that neo-noir would take the queer-coded villains and make them the protagonists. Implicature: This is the story of Leopold and Loeb, murderers famous for being queer, and what's interesting is how the queerness in the first half exists entirely outside of language. Like, it's kind of amazing for a movie from 1992 to be this gay - we watch Nathan and Dickie kiss, undress, masturbate, fuck; hell, they wear wedding rings when they're alone together. But it's never verbalized. Sex is referred to as "your reward" or "what you wanted" or "best time." Dickie says he's going to have "the girls over," and it turns out "the girls" are a bunch of drag queens, but this is never acknowledged. Nathan at one point lists off a bunch of famous men - Oscar Wild, E.M. Forster, Frederick the Great - but, though the commonality between them is obvious (they were all gay), it's left the the audience to recognize it. When their queerness is finally verbalized in the second half, it's first in the language of pathology - a psychiatrist describing their "perversions" and "misuse" of their "organs" before the court, which has to be cleared of women because it's so inappropriate - and then with slurs from the man who murders Dickie in jail (a murder which is written off with no investigation because the victim is a gay prisoner instead of a L&L's victim, a child of a wealthy family). I don't know if I'd have noticed this if I hadn't read Chip Delany describing his experience as a gay man in the 50's existing almost entirely outside of language, the only language at the time being that of heteronormativity. Murder as Love Story: L&L exchange sex as payment for the other commiting crimes; it's foreplay. Their statements to the police where they disagree over who's to blame is a lover's quarrel. Their sentencing is a marriage. Nathan performs his own funeral rites over Dickie's body after he dies on the operating table. They are, in their way, together til death did they part. This is the relationship they can have. That it does all this without romanticizing the murder itself or valorizing L&L as humans is frankly incredible.

Suture (rw) The pitch: at the funeral for his father, wealthy Vincent Towers meets his long lost half brother Clay Arlington. It is implied Clay is a child from out of wedlock, possibly an affair; no one knows Vincent has a half-brother but him and Clay. Vincent invites Clay out to his fancy-ass home in Arizona. Thing is, Vincent is suspected (correctly) by the police of having murdered his father, and, due to a striking family resemblence, he's brought Clay to his home to fake his own death. He finagles Clay into wearing his clothes and driving his car, and then blows the car up and flees the state, leaving the cops to think him dead. Thing is, Clay survives, but with amnesia. The doctors tell him he's Vincent, and he has no reason to disagree. Any discrepancy in the way he looks is dismissed as the result of reconstructive surgery after the explosion. So Clay Arlington resumes Vincent Towers' life, without knowing Clay Arlington even exists. The twist: Clay and Vincent are both white, but Vincent is played by Michael Harris, a white actor, and Clay is played by Dennis Haysbert, a Black actor. "Ian, if there's just the two of them, how do you know it's not Harris playing a Black character?" Glad you asked! It is most explicitly obvious during a scene where Vincent/Clay's surgeon-cum-girlfriend essentially bringing up phrenology to explain how Vincent/Clay couldn't possibly have murdered his father, describing straight hair, thin lips, and a Greco-Roman nose Haysbert very clearly doesn't have. But, let's be honest: we knew well beforehand that the rich-as-fuck asshole living in a huge, modern house and living it up in Arizona high society was white. Though Clay is, canonically, white, he lives an poor and underprivileged life common to Black men in America. Though the film's title officially refers to the many stitches holding Vincent/Clay's face together after the accident, "suture" is a film theory term, referring to the way a film audience gets wrapped up - sutured - in the world of the movie, choosing to forget the outside world and pretend the story is real. The usage is ironic, because the audience cannot be sutured in; we cannot, and are not expected to, suspend our disbelief that Clay is white. We are deliberately distanced. Consequently this is a movie to be thought about, not to to be felt. It has the shape of a Hitchcockian thriller but it can't evoke the emotions of one. You can see the scaffolding - "ah, yes, this is the part of a thriller where one man hides while another stalks him with a gun, clever." I feel ill-suited to comment on what the filmmakers are saying about race. I could venture a guess about the ending, where the psychiatrist, the only one who knows the truth about Clay, says he can never truly be happy living the lie of being Vincent Towers, while we see photographs of Clay/Vincent seemingly living an extremely happy life: society says white men simply belong at the top more than Black men do, but, if the roles could be reversed, the latter would slot in seamlessly. Maybe??? Of all the movies in this collection, this is the one I'd most want to read an essay on (followed by Swoon).

The Last Seduction (dnrw) No, no, no, I am not rewataching this piece of shit movie.

Brick (rw) Here's my weird contention: Brick is in color and in widescreen, but, besides that? There's nothing neo- about this noir. There's no swearing except "hell." (I always thought Tug said "goddamn" at one point but, no, he's calling The Pin "gothed-up.") There's a lot of discussion of sex, but always through implication, and the only deleted scene is the one that removed ambiguity about what Brendan and Laura get up to after kissing. There's nothing postmodern or subversive - yes, the hook is it's set in high school, but the big twist is that it takes this very seriously. It mines it for jokes, yes, but the drama is authentic. In fact, making the gumshoe a high school student, his jadedness an obvious front, still too young to be as hard as he tries to be, just makes the drama hit harder. Sam Spade if Sam Spade were allowed to cry. I've always found it an interesting counterpoint to The Good German, a movie that fastidiously mimics the aesthetics of classic noir - down to even using period-appropriate sound recording - but is wholly neo- in construction. Brick could get approved by the Hays Code. Its vibe, its plot about a detective playing a bunch of criminals against each other, even its slang ("bulls," "yegg," "flopped") are all taken directly from Hammett. It's not even stealing from noir, it's stealing from what noir stole from! It's a perfect curtain call for the collection: the final film is both the most contemporary and the most classic. It's also - but for the strong case you could make for Night Moves - the best movie on the list. It's even more appropriate for me, personally: this was where it all started for me and noir. I saw this in theaters when it came out and loved it. It was probably my favorite movie for some time. It gave me a taste for pulpy crime movies which I only, years later, realized were neo-noir. This is why I looked into Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and In Bruges. I've seen it more times than any film on this list, by a factor of at least 3. It's why I will always adore Rian Johnson and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It's the best-looking half-million-dollar movie I've ever seen. (Indie filmmakers, take fucking notes.) I even did a script analysis of this, and, yes, it follows the formula, but so tightly and with so much style. Did you notice that he says several of the sequence tensions out loud? ("I just want to find her." "Show of hands.") I notice new things each time I see it - this time it was how "brushing Brendan's hair out of his face" is Em's move, making him look more like he does in the flashback, and how Laura does the same to him as she's seducing him, in the moment when he misses Em the hardest. It isn't perfect. It's recreated noir so faithfully that the Innocent Girl dies, the Femme Fatale uses intimacy as a weapon, and none of the women ever appear in a scene together. 1940's gender politics maybe don't need to be revisited. They say be critical of the media you love, and it applies here most of all: it is a real criticism of something I love immensely.

#film noir #neo-noir #criterion channel

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

hi!! i've read most of your fics at this point and you've gotten me obsessed with sniperscout, especially the way you write them! i just wanted to ask, do you know of (or would you ever consider writing) a fic where sniper is kinda self-conscious about his looks and scout reassures him?

sometimes ya boy’s gotta be the one doing the comforting

(no warnings)

He dragged a hand down across his jaw, grimacing lightly to himself, then more firmly at the lines that it drew across his face.

Some days, he wished he didn’t have a mirror. That instead he just... could go back to the way he operated back when he did hunting and tracking. With months at a time on his own, he didn’t particularly need to keep up appearances, and would only go to the trouble of tracking down a pocket mirror when he needed to give himself a haircut or something of the like. Nowadays, though, he was committed to at least looking presentable, which meant pinning a mirror in place above the sink, mostly used for when he shaved.

And... well, now he was checking more often, admittedly. Usually he didn’t bother with worrying about the details of his face and clothes, since nobody tended to look too closely at him anyways. The hat and the shooting glasses and the high collar on his vest tended to do pretty well for him, and it wasn’t like anyone would care.

Except now, someone did.

He dragged a hand up through his hair, frowning at the way it seemed to just do whatever the hell it wanted, here before he had it gelled back. He was due for a haircut, honestly, but every time he cut his hair, by the end of it he felt like the clean cut just drew more attention to how scruffy the rest of him looked.

He drew a thumb against the lines around his eyes as if he could smooth them out somehow. Bared his teeth enough for glare at the slight crookedness and oddness to them, his strangely sharp canines in particular. Tilted his head to either side to ogle the numerous little scars dotting his skin.

And god, that’s just what he could see in the little mirror.

He hated going into the workout room on the base more than anything in the world, because right there by the door, impossible to miss, were the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and he was forced to confront his... his gangly limbs, his shoulders wideset but not thick with muscle, arms long but weak, bony all along his legs and thin in the chest but soft in the middle and scraggly all over.

He winced at himself.

It wasn’t like standing next to the person he was meant to get ready to go see would help at all. Scout didn’t have to deal with having weird elbows.  God, Scout was gorgeous. Not in some boring sort of standard way, no, he just looked downright lovely. Built like the embodiment of speed, moved like he knew where he was going, like efficiency. Soft angles in the face that made him seem so friendly, so personable, and his hair always looked right no matter how many times he pulled his hat off to drag a hand through it, and he smiled with his eyes, with his whole body, and he seemed to stretch and bend just right to always make it so obvious what was going on in his head. He was built like artwork.

And then Sniper was just...

He considered cancelling and saying he was sick—hell, he considered shooting himself in the foot with his rifle to get a trip to the infirmary—but he knew Scout was looking forward to this, and he shouldn’t let his ridiculousness ruin Scout’s night.

It was cold enough as it got later at night to justify the scarf pulled up snug to nearly cover the bottom part of his face, and he didn’t ever go anywhere without his hat and glasses even if he didn’t usually pull the hat down so far, and that combined with a baggy coat were enough to hide him sufficiently. He could at least go out like this, he was sure. And he felt guilty, momentarily, that once again all the nicer civilian-type clothes that Scout had gone to the trouble of going out and helping him pick would go unworn, but maybe on one of his less... nervous days, he would have the courage.

And he was hoping and praying the entire walk over to base that it would be left at that, absolutely sure that any attention would be bad attention. But as he tended to do—hell, as he always did—Scout found a way to surprise him.

“Jesus, you alive under there?” Scout laughed, looking up from where he was leaned against the wall by the garage. “Were we supposed to be goin’ undercover or somethin’? Because if we are, I better change.”

Loud, would be one word to describe Scout’s shirt. The patterns were bright and eccentric, eye-catching and vibrant, especially against the otherwise normal jeans and worn-to-hell sneakers he had on. And his hair had clearly been smoothed back a bit, but that cowlick at the front still hung down over his forehead and bounced with the way his shoulders shook under continued laughter.  Comfort and nervousness all in one. Ease and uncertainty. He settled for a vague shrug. “Might get chilly,” he mumbled.

“Jesus, again with the saying it’s cold,” Scout laughed, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t last a week in Boston, babe, seriously.”

He was in the middle of deciding whether he more wanted to address the fact that he could handle cold just fine, thank you very much, or the fact that Scout had just called him babe, when Scout had suddenly moved forward into his space, performing three gestures one after another—first flicking up the front of his hat, then snagging off his glasses, then tugging down the scarf that was over the bottom part of his face—and before he could do much of anything about it, Scout had tipped up onto his toes to kiss him once, soundly, at the corner of his mouth.

When he pulled back, his grin was lopsided and pleased. “There he is,” he said, “there’s my handsome guy.”

His sputter of laughter was as incredulous as it was involuntary. “Handsome?” he repeated, doubtful.

“Damn right,” Scout agreed, and kissed him on the other side of the mouth for symmetry, and he had to smooth out the way it pulled his face into a smile, cringing internally at how it surely made all the lines on his face that much more obvious. “Wicked handsome.”

“Right, mate,” he scoffed, glancing off to one side, face feeling hot.

“C’mon, seriously,” Scout said, as if Sniper was the one who was being ridiculous. “Have you seen you? You’re, like, rugged Rock Hudson. Like, uh—fuck, who’s that one guy? From Casablanca?”

“Er... that bloke, Henreid, is it?”

“Nah, nah, uh...” He snapped his fingers a few times. “Uh, somethin’ with a ‘B’... Bogart, Humphrey Bogart! Plays the main guy, ‘Here’s lookin’ at you, kid’, that guy. You’re taller, though. And I like your hair way better.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sniper muttered, tugging on his hat, but Scout just ticked it right back up again, looped an arm up over his shoulders to pull him down into a short kiss, then a long one. He felt half-dizzy by the time Scout pulled back away, flashing that lopsided grin again.

“Dead serious,” he said, smiling with his eyes, and he scoffed again at it, at himself, at all of this.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said firmly.

“You’re handsome,” Scout said again, just as firmly.

“Well, one of us is wrong,” Sniper said.

“And it’s not me,” Scout said, and kissed him once more before he could reply, and pulled back again, pushed his glasses back up onto his face crookedly. “Alright, c’mon. Tacos.”

Stood in line later, Sniper dragged a hand down over his face, thinking.

Rugged Rock Hudson, huh?

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #sniperscout #speeding bullet #que?#shut up me #my fanfiction #we love a supportive boyfriend

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nicolewoo · 3 years

Text

The Weekend Part 2

Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader), Fergal Devitt X Reader (Finn Balor X Reader), Drew Galloway X Reader (Drew McIntyre X Reader)

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT

Fergal fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. He hadn't been sleeping well, so I was happy to see it. I, on the other hand, couldn't get my mind to stop spinning. This afternoon had been so amazing right up until the jealousy. We'd have to figure that out before any permanent decisions were made.

After a while, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to sleep. The best thing I could do is get up, drink some water and play a little candy crush until I could relax. As I sat on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt, I thought back to today. I wanted all 3 of my men to feel appreciated, and in truth, Joe had one on one time with me this afternoon. If that was what caused the jealousy, I simply need to let Drew know I cared for him too.

Silently, I slipped into Drew's room and out of my t-shirt. He started stirring as I held back the blankets to slip into bed. His deep gravelly voice asked, “Princess?” I crawled into his arms, smiling as I felt his kiss on my forehead. Leaning up, I brushed my lips with his. I felt him smile as he pulled me closer to him. Knowing that his chest hair would tickle my face all night, I rolled over and pressed my back to his front. I felt his heavy, muscled arm drape over me and pulled me close to him. He let out a contented sigh and fell back to sleep. I followed soon after.

The bed shifted as Drew climbed out of it. Bright rays of sunshine streamed through the curtain. “Princess,” Drew whispered. “Go back to sleep, love.” I tried, but it wasn't happening. As I went to stretch, I realized that nearly every muscle in my body was sore. Really sore! I squeaked out a little yelp just as Drew came back to the room from the bathroom.

“Are you ok?” He was by my side before I even finished the yelp; his hands running to my cheeks.

I covered his hands with mine and assured him I was. “I'm really sore this morning.” I grinned up at him.

He simply smirked down at me. “I don' doubt it, princess.”

“Listen, I know this is funny, and I'll be happy to laugh about it after it stops hurting.” I fake whimpered which elicited a warm smile from him. “Could you get the Tylenol out of my purse?” I asked.

“Yes, ma'am.” He left, and I could hear him in the kitchen. “Guys, we might have to change our plans for today. Our princess is sore.”

The sound of Joe's chuckle filled the air, and I heard Drew explain that it would be best if they could not tease me about it yet. Fergal ducked his head in the door and came to my side. He pulled the blankets back and started running his hands over my legs massaging the sore muscles. “You ok, luv?” he asked. I assured him I would be, but taking a hike today was not a good idea.

Drew returned with my purse, “I'm not gettin' in your purse. Who knows what kinda stuff you've got in there?” He passed me the bag, and I grabbed the Tylenol.

“What the heck do you think I keep in my purse?” I teased as he handed me some water.

“I don' wanna know.” He smiled before looking at Ferg, “Why don' we make some breakfast in bed for our gal?”

Fergal agreed. “Stay here,” he said brushing a sweet kiss to my forehead. The idea of my men taking care of me was tempting, but I had to get up to stretch out, so I pulled my sore muscles out of bed and went to the bathroom. When I joined the guys in the kitchen, they all looked disappointed.

“We were gonna serve ya breakfast in bed, princess.” Drew said as he pulled me in for a hug.

“I have to stretch these muscles out anyway.” I said as I took a seat at the table.

Joe came behind me and placed a plate of food in front of me. “Maybe we can give you a massage later to help.” He offered after placing a kiss on top of my head.

The three of them massaging me? Oh, I could go for that! “That sounds fantastic.” I admitted.

As Fergal sat next to me and gave me a quick kiss, “I t'ink we can handle t'at. Did you have trouble sleeping?” He arched an eyebrow at me.

I couldn't answer with my mouth full so I nodded. When my mouth was empty, I whispered to him, “I hope that's ok?” I referred to leaving him and joining Drew for sleep.

“Of course, luv.” He squeezed my hand. He continued, “So, you’re not up for a hike today?” he asked.

I answered a bit too quickly, “No!” which elicited a smile from all three men. “But I know you Ferg. You're going to get cabin fever if you stay here all day.”

“Cabin fever?” he asked.

“Restless.” I answered.

“Bored, and she's right Ferg. You can barely sit still on a regular basis. Why don't you and Drew go hiking? I won't mind staying here with Y/N.” Joe said.

I could tell the offer was made with the best intentions, but a spark of anger crossed Drew's eyes. I tapped Fergal's leg with my hand and nodded for him to see Drew's jealousy. He placed his hand on mine and ran his fingers over my knuckles. He nodded at me to let me know he'd seen.

“Boys,” I glared at all three of them. “We need to talk. Grab your breakfasts and sit down.” I commanded. A look of apprehension passed Joe's face, and Drew grimaced. Once they were seated, I started. “If this is going to be a permanent situation, we've gotta get some things straight. I've noticed a lot of jealousy already.” I looked from Drew to Joe, and both hung their heads in guilt. “Fergal and I have talked, and we are interested in continuing this, but we've got to get a handle on this jealousy right now.” Ferg nodded in agreement. “Each of you has traits that I adore. Joe,” I looked at him and placed my hand on his forearm, “You're my sweet teddy bear. Drew,” I said placing my hand on his forearm in the same way, “You're my giant Scottish King. You two HAVE to understand that you are both important to me. If you two are jealous of each other, this won't work. Drew, do you want to continue this? With all three of us?” I looked at him.

“Aye, Princess. I'm sorry.” He grabbed my hand off his arm and kissed my knuckles.

“Joe, Do you want to continue this with all three of us?”

“Yes, baby girl.” He rubbed my knuckle with his thumb.

“I'm going to need you guys to communicate your needs with me too. If something isn't right, I want you to tell me. If you need more one on one time with me, communicate that to me. We can work through it. Do you both agree?” They both did, and I looked to Fergal. “Babe?”

“You know I'm good with this.” He smiled at me. We had talked about it before going to bed last night.

“Good. Now....” I started thinking of how to handle today. “Why don't you all go find a gym and get a good workout after breakfast? I can stay here and stretch out my muscles. Hopefully, I can get back to feeling somewhat normal again.”

“The offer of a massage still stands.” Drew said softly.

“How about we do that after your workout?” I asked.

“You got it, baby girl.” Joe replied for both of them.

———————————————————————

“Massage time!” Drew announced as he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. “Let’s get these clothes off Princess.”

There were hands everywhere quickly removing my clothes as well as their own. “You need to take your clothes off to give me a massage?” I asked.

Joe huffed out a laugh. “Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what’s going to happen after this massage.” He picked me up and unceremoniously flipped me onto my stomach. The men had obviously discussed a plan of attack before they got back to the cabin, because they each took their place right away.

Joe was in charge of my right side, Drew on my left and Ferg stood knelt next to my head massaging my neck and shoulders. We may have known how the massage was going to end, but my guys still took the time to massage every part of me, adding kisses from time to time. I watched as they worked, eyeing the taut muscles rippling under skin, the carnal smirks as they massaged my breasts, the lust in their eyes when I moaned in relief and of course their rock hard dicks. Yeah, this was going to be fun.

Joe was massaging my legs when his hand slowly crept up my thighs.

“You feeling better yet, Princess?” Drew cooed out softly.

I was going to say yes, but Joe slid his finger over my sex and I gasped when he flicked my clit. “Oh yeah. She’s ready” he said. “Aren’t you, Princess?”

I looked up at Drew and nodded yes. He leaned in, kissing me gently as Joe began kissing my thighs, moving up so slowly. As I moaned into Drew’s mouth, Joe nibbled playfully at my hood, quickly followed by flicking his tongue over my clit. My moan turned into a needy mewl, and Drew broke the kiss, looking down at me.

“Is Joe making you feel good?” He teased as he stood and towered over me. I whined and tried to wriggle, but Joe wrapped his arms around my legs holding me still. “Ohhhh. He is. Isn’t he?” He brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek. “Open that mouth little girl.” Drew grabbed his huge cock in his hand and pressed it against my lips. I opened wide and stuck my tongue out obediently.

“Ah, Dat’s ma good girl.” Ferg brushed his hand over my hair before he pulled my hand to his dick.

I grasped and sucked at the same time, eliciting a moan from both men. “You take my cock so good.” Drew said as he thrust into my mouth again. I quickly found a rhythm to stroke Fergal while Drew filled my mouth and part of my throat over and over. Fergal began playing with my nipples.

Even after last night, the feelings of all three of these men pleasing me was overbearing. My core clenched in desire as hands and mouths explored my sex, my body, my skin. I whined out in the painful need; a tear rolling down my temple into my hair.

“You ok princess?” Drew asked as he pulled out of my mouth suddenly. The other two men realized something was wrong and stopped too, which only made my need worse.

Fergal wiped the tear that escaped my eye with a gentle brush of the back of his fingers. “Love?”

I nodded before I could answer. “Yes. Just….”

“Just what love?” Finn asked. Would I disappoint them if I asked for a little less stimulation? Ferg leaned down close to me and looked me in the eyes. “Tell us.” His tone was gentle and caring, and I saw only concern from all three of them.

“I’m just a little over-stimulated. I know I handled this and more last night, but it’s just too much right now. Just a little too much.”

“That’s understandable, baby girl.” Joe cooed to me. “How about you tell us what you want?” He asked.

I should have known the guys would understand. They were all so sweet. I smirked at Joe, “Well, for starters,” I put my hand on Joe’s shoulder and started pushing down. “Keep doing what you were doing.”

All three of the guys laughed as Joe resumed his place between my legs. One long lick across my sex elicited a long moan from me. Ferg moved to the head of the bed, picking up my head and placing it in his lap. He began to stroke my hair lovingly.

“There we go, lass. Is that better?” Drew asked.

I looked to him and took his hand. “You are all such,” Mid-sentence, Joe had dipped two fingers in my sex as he sucked my clit. My back arched, the tension in my core becoming unbearable. I needed to cum. When he curled his fingers to brush my g-spot, I exploded with a near-feral groan.

“T’ere ya go, luv.” Ferg cooed down to me. He waited a minute before asking, “Better now?”

Him stroking my hair felt so good, so soothing. The sensation so different than the wild storm of lust that was rising up in me again. Joe peppered kisses up my body until he came face to face with me. He looked entirely too proud of himself as he leaned in to kiss me deeply. He didn’t speak, but instead let out an almost imperceptible growl in my ear, which made me smile. He wanted to take me now. I knew it. I wanted that too, but there were 2 other men to please, and we both knew it.

“Lay down here.” I tapped the bed beside me and Joe laid down. I curled onto his chest lovingly as Drew laid down behind me, his hands caressing my body softly, his lips softly pressing into my neck. It was a sweet moment as all three of my men held me, but it was over too fast. Drew’s hand slid down to my ass, caressing and grabbing at it as he lined his cock up to my slit.

In one long stroke, Drew buried his massive cock inside me. The pleasure caused me to jerk, and I ended up looking at Joe. “Is this ok, princess?” Drew’s words were nice, but there was a desperate need tempering his voice.

“Yes!” I was quick to answer, and my enthusiasm made the guys chuckle.

As Drew slid out and back in me, Joe hooked his fingers under my chin, lifted my face to his and kissed me. I gasped into Joe’s mouth as a third stroke caused my back to arch. I couldn’t lay still…. Not with how good Drew was making me feel. I couldn’t just stay and enjoy Joe’s kiss. I leaned up on my elbow as Drew found a good rhythm.

“You ok, luv?” Fergal asked. He was being so patient. I smiled up at him for a second before Drew’s next thrust. Each time he entered me, it was faster and harder until he was pounding that massive cock inside me so hard that I couldn’t think straight.

“Y…. Yes.” I answered as soon as I could.

Joe rolled onto his side, resting his hand on my hip as he cooed out praises to me. “You’re doing so good for us, baby girl. So good.”

Drew fucked me for an eternity. At least it seemed like an eternity. I began to worry about my other men, but they continued to sooth me and praise me. I came 3 more times as he continued, hard and fast. When he finally found his release, he came all over my hip and ass. Ferg got wet washcloth and cleaned me up as Drew laid recovering behind me. Once done, Drew turned me over and pulled me onto his chest, kissing my forehead as he thanked me.

“I should be the one thanking….” My sentence was interrupted by Joe’s fingers sliding into my wet cunt. My surprised moan elicited a chuckle from the men.

Joe wasted no time, filling me with his length before I could even think about it. He may have been the sweetest of the three but that gentility disappeared the second he was inside me. His fingers grabbed greedily at my hips, pulling me back onto his cock over and over. I was pretty sure I’d have bruises on my hips, but right then, I didn’t care.

He fucked me so hard, I thought my cervix might be bruised. It was sweet pain. I came again and again, losing myself in the tide of my orgasms overtaking me. A scream jarred me out of my bliss. It took a minute for me to realize I was the one screaming; screaming in a combination of pleasure and pain. Joe spanked me hard, the burning in my ass fading into tingling and heightening my ecstasy. Hearing my moan, Joe spanked me again. As before, I couldn’t stay laying on Drew’s chest as Joe’s thrusts pushed me into me jarringly.

Joe locked his lips over my neck, sucking a spot until I was sure it would bruise. A brief thought of how much makeup I’d need to use on the bruise was quickly pushed out of my head as Joe thrust again.

Fergal reached for my hair, bundling it up into a ponytail as Joe continued. Ferg handed the ponytail to Joe, who needed no instruction. He grabbed the hair willingly and began to pull my head up hard; using my hair as leverage to fuck me harder. The combination of his hand grabbing at my skin, him pulling my hair and the delicious friction between my legs was overwhelming and yet, perfect. The pleasure built until it was a combination of pleasure and pain. Just as I was certain I couldn’t stand another minute of it, he growled out as he came, pulling out of me and leaving his seed spread across my other hip and ass.

Ferg was quick to wash me up again, and the bed rustled as the men adjusted, but I couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes and see what they were doing.

“Love?” Ferg was in front of me. I opened my eyes to find that Ferg was laying next to me. Drew was gone and Joe laid on his back recovering. “Are ya ready for me?” I could hear the edge of desire in his voice. He was desperate; needy.

I dreaded the mere idea of another round, but as Ferg’s blue eyes looked into mine, I knew he’d be gentle with me. His hand came up to my cheek, his thumb caressing the curve of my face. Seeing nothing but gentleness from him, I nodded yes. “I’m a little overstimulated.” I warned.

“I know love,” He pulled my face to his and kissed me softly, carefully. “I know. I’m going to be careful.” Turning us until he was above me, Ferg pushed his knee between mine and took his place between my legs. Brushing his dick over my sex, Ferg smiled when he found I was still very wet.

Slowly, gently, he entered me. I may have been over-stimulated, but the second I felt my lover inside me, the fire in me re-kindled. Yes. I could go one more round. One more for my men.

I surrendered to Ferg, and he did not disappoint. We made love, soft and slow. Joe slipped out once he was recovered, and I heard a shower turn on, but as Ferg reached down and started circling my clit with his finger I forgot about everything that wasn’t in this bed. I exploded moments later, my core clenching hard around him. “Fuuuuck.” He moaned out, and I knew he’d lost control too, cumming with a wild roar as he emptied himself inside me.

He laid beside me, gasping for breath as he recovered. I was completely spent, unable to move at all. Ferg curled around me, gently caressing my skin with his fingers as he kissed me softly. When Drew returned a few minutes later, wet and gloriously naked, he quickly scooped me up from Ferg’s hold, kissing my forehead as he carried me to the bathroom. “You ok, princess?” he asked as he set me down on the side of the tub that was now filled with warm water.

I moaned my agreement, barely able to keep my body upright. “Can you handle this part alone?” he meant pee. When I nodded yes, he ducked out of the bathroom, letting me handle the necessary task. “Ok babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked me up and helped me climb into the warm bath. Sitting on the floor beside me, Drew carefully washed me before putting me back to bed with a couple of Aleve and water. Obviously the guys had discussed this, because Joe now came to lay beside me, pulling me onto his clean and slightly still damp chest. My heavy eyes closed now, and I drifted off to sleep completely sated.

@mindofasagitarius @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole

#roman reigns #Joe Anaoi #drew mcintyre #drew galloway #fergal devitt #finn Balor

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pixie-cocaine · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ Reaction To: Catching them off-guard by being naked

Hii, I've noticed your requests are open. And i've been seeing your Ateez reactions recently, which are amazing. :D I just wondered, do you think you could do an Ateez reaction where their S.O. walks into the room naked while they are playing a game, working on music etc? (Kind of like that new Tik tok trend going around atm) x

Guuurl, sorry I waited so long to actually do something about this ask lol, but hopefully this will make you happy :)

Songs Listened To: X by CODE KUNST + LEE HI, FXXK It by BIGBANG, Dante’s Creek by THEY + DEAN, Baby Don’t Stop by NCT, Love Talk - Wayv, A Little Death by The Neighborhood

Hongjoong ♡:

• This man was straight vibing and your sneaky ass just HAD to do something

• “Joong.”

• “Yeah?” he didn’t look up from the small journal, with which he was jotting down lyrics for a future song he was to produce for

• He kept his eyes trained on the pages

• And uh-uh, that wouldn’t do 😤

• You rolled your eyes and waltzed over to the boy, putting a hand on the shoulder of the chair so you could swing him around to face you, an eyebrow raised

• “Look at me.”

• And he sure as hell did dafdsaffwq

• Face said :O

• Doesn’t matter how many times he sees your nude body, still looks like a kid in a candy store lol

• To say he was completely distracted would be a huge understatement

• Hanky panky in his mini studio? Yessir

Seonghwa ♡:

• Looking at this gif and listening to a slowed sexy song is gonna kill me istg

• Also, who let him act like a little hoe in their comeback? Keep your shirt down, mister, it’s not safe

• Gorl has nothing to do in his sparetime because he’s not too big of a gAMeR, but he does like to play phone games when he’s especially bored

• Would probably be playing like fuckin uhhhh candy crush or something when you said “lemme do sum a lil crazy 😌💅“

• You were kinda just curious to see what his reaction would be if you showed up witcha tiddies out

• So you got out the shower and half-assedly threw on a silk robe that Hwa got you for your birthday, not tying it or anything, but rather letting it slip off your damp shoulders while the front sat open and displayed your body for all to see

• His reaction when you leant against the doorframe and fake pouted?

• Immediate 📉

• Everday and night he’s gon chase you frfr

• “C’mere...,” He’d mumble, tossing his phone to the side

• Level thirty-seven could wait ;)

Yunho ♡:

• Playing pc games at home is one of his favorite things to do (He’s even said so)

• PC games are his go-to when he gets bored of console

• So he’s constantly in his lil gaming room so that if you’re ever sleeping, he doesn’t wake you up

• He was on a multiuplayer session of Valorant when you decided to ruin his gaymer grind

• F in the chat boys

• “Yunho?”

• “Yes?” He stops his hastily typed directions to his game buddies in favor of giving you a quick glance from his chair, and has to look over again to make sure he's seeing things right

• Yeah, he was definitely seeing the pretty rise of your breasts and smoothness of your thighs, revealed from the towel now on the floor, right. Especially the way both of those lovely attributes were becoming larger as you approached him

• "W-woah!" He rushes to shield his eyes, though you only giggle and swivel his chair around in order to straddle him, removing his hands from his face

• "What? Am I too repulsive to?"

• "No! No it's just...," Yunho trails off, letting out a shaky breath and trying his best to not stare so obviously. Literally just paying attention at anything but what you wanted him to

• You only grin, tilting his chin to you face you head-on, "It's ok to look, baby. Don't be so shy"

• a forgotten game and heated chair sex is what would lead to your surprise

• kiss kiss for baby 😘

Yeosang ♡:

• We need more Yeosang gifs, this is ridiculous y'all ;(. Also, we're just... Not gonna talk about San on the side 💀

• Oh oh! And Yeosang getting bolder on stage is my favorite thing

• soooo snowboarding

• Yeosang said he likes to do that in his free time

• He'd just got a new custom board, which the front had lovely baby blue dripping forest face and the meaning of his name painted in black for the back, "Sound Resonating From A High Point."

• He was waxing it in the kitchen with it sat atop the island for easier space when he felt your arms slide around his waist, to which he smiled at, still continuing his work

• "Hello there," he mused

• "Baby, what would you do if I told you I was naked?"

• bitch hUH??

• He really did not waste time with turning in your hold and IMMEDIATELY looking down to see what you're wearing

• He chuckles upon , giving a cat whistle before bending down to set you on top of the counter

• "What's this for?"

• "Bored," you purse your lips, allowing yourself to lean back on your forearms as you spread your legs, "And you seemed like a good time-passer"

• Yeosang hums, falling to his knees easily enough and pulling you towards the edge of the island, then presses an affectionate kiss to your inner thigh

• "Fair enough"

San ♡:

• San likes to spiffy up on his English, which is still pretty hard for him even if you assure him that he's doing just fine when he speaks it around your family

• That being said, you'll sometimes catch him at the table with a textbook in front of him and a language journal by the side that he uses to write small romanizations

• You were particularly bored today. And damn, was San looking good with his messy black hair and shirtless torso. He never really did wear shirts around the house.

• "Sannie," You sang from the doorframe, fresh out of the shower and a bit sexually frustrated considering San hadn't touched you for a couple weeks due to your busy schedule

• He hummed in acknowledgement, jotting something down in the journal as he alternated between both the book and notebook

• You knew he was busy but his English really wasn't bad, so it didn't need to be now. It could wait a bit longer

• Sighing, you drop the towel from your body and fling it at San, which makes him jump and pull it from off of his head, looking towards you immediately and gasping

• You put a hand on your hip, giggling at how he tries to calm himself down

• lol goofy boy

• "C'mon, I know you're tired, I can help you relax," you gesture with a finger in a beckoning motion, and like he was already planning on it, he hops up from his seat and follows you back to the bedroom

• sorry if this was kinda boring lol, let's just San could have literally any reaction and frankly, this is probably the most tame he would be

Mingi ♡:

• Like Yunho in a lot of ways

• He does like to play games (probably PC, too), so you already know he'd be mashing that controller in the living room lol

• "Aww man, are you kidding me!?"

• Mingi gets shy, especially when it comes to you, so when you decided it'd be a good idea to step in front of the screen while he was playing Zelda with the towel around your body held open, he was a visual representation of keyboard mashing

• "Woah—Ohmygod-" [insert Minnie baby accidentally throwing his controller in his haste to cover his eyes]

• "You don't want me?" You ask, pouting and tilting your head

• His response is spreading two of the fingers across his eyes to peek, nodding his head frantically but trying to find the right words so he doesn't make you sad, "You just scared me is all! I don't wanna be rude by looking when you don't want me to or anything..."

• He takes his fingers away to hold them out instead, making grabby hands until you smile and crawl into them, in turn, climbing on top of his lap and letting him press his face into the valley between your breasts so he could kiss the skin there while looking at you

• "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," he mumbles, nuzzling his head farther down

• "No baby, you're fine," You reassure him with a hand ruffling the strands of his hair

• sweet hanky panky alert 🚨 sweet hanky panky alert 🚨

Wooyoung ♡:

• it's the large ass gif of Woo and his ponytail for me

• Oh and yeah, I know this doesn't quite fit theme of YOU walking in on them to flash your boobies but you're gonna keep your mouth shut and pretend it does 😏

• Another gamer.. damn this is getting repetitive

• hmmm

• Dance practice it is! 😃

• Woo doesn't like repeatedly practicing the same moves over and over again, but he did like the progress he made with each re-do, so he supposes he'll bear with the exhaustion

• Well.. obviously not now, because he's just walking through the bedroom door when he finally registers that you're sitting on the bed, lying on your stomach and scrolling through your phone with a leg raising your body go the side

• You snap your head to look at him, "Ah, there you are," you grin, pushing yourself up to a sitting position, "Thought you were gonna come home late again"

• Wooyoung let's out a snort as he closes the door behind him and drops his dance bag to the side, already taking his inky black hair out of the ponytail it was previously in and shaking it loose

• "What a nice surprise"

Jongho ♡:

• No thoughts, only buff babie

• And how he sung "sex in the morning baby" with a scary amount of aggression

• lol it makes sense that sweetie likes to play racing games on his computer

• LITerally so precious ;(

• Same trope (yes I'm a disappointment); Jongie plopped onto his lil chair with a fluffy blanket around his shoulders and headphones on that cute little head of his

• He said "I love playing car games, vroom vroom y'all 😤"

• And you said "I love playing surprise games, yes yes 😈"

• Gorl, when I tell you he squeaked out of surprise at how you turned his chair around to face you ;(

• "Uhh... Am I- Am I supposed to be looking?" He stammers, eyebrows raised and eyes locked on your bare front

• "By all means, baby," you purr, shaking your head with a familiar fondness at the boy in awe before you

• Just like Joong, he never tires of seeing you naked. He loves looking at you when you're nude, because it's when he can appreciate all aspects of you

• "Hang on, let me pause the game, I'll meet you in the bedroom"

• Getting intimate with Jongho is quite easy. He'll pretty much always say yes to sex, and it's pretty casual when you hint at it

#kpop smut #ateez reactions #smut #ateez smut #kpop reactions #reactions #jongho smut #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #yunho smut #requested #wooyoung smut

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minkmousesworld · 4 years

Text

Hi! could i request a omega Daki x Alpha reader smutty were reader is just incredibly protective of Daki and sometimes loses it but Daki both loves the attention and loves that she can actually calm the reader down?

by @gayforthem

Hello! Thank you very much for the request, and don't forget to drink water!

enjoy reading~❤️

Omegaverse AU: omega! Daki x alpha! Reader [NSFW🔞]

"Your"

warnings: modern au, kinda dark omegaverse (mention of murder), heavy petting (masturbation), mention of oral sex, mention of marking.

omega fem character x alpha (aggressive) gender neutral reader

Daki was popular.

Sometimes it felt as if every time she walked into a room, everyone stopped doing their own thing to look at her.

Daki was a bright and damn attractive omega, and she knew it. With all her bright makeup, elegant clothes, and arrogant, warm smile.

And with that cute expression she made whenever someone (usually a "fan") bothered her, but not enough to make her really angry.

She waved at them sweetly and wrapped her arms around your arm, throwing eloquent glances at your face without even looking back.

Daki lived for your reaction.

Nothing too rude — she was satisfied with your irritated face when someone clung to her, or the ostentatious indifference when another alpha tried to "seduce" her (as if they could hope for something), or the cold when someone asked if you were her alpha.

As if the mark on her neck wasn't a telling enough sign. Or that she didn't leave your side.

Or the way you looked at everyone who bothered her.

"Don't touch her"

Daki watched curiously as you tightly gripped the other alpha's hand and gently held her to you. Not that she enjoys your jealousy...

Well, she enjoyed your jealousy.

"Touch her again", you gripped the other's hand even tighter, "and I'll chew out your too-long arms, as well as your brain, which apparently isn't there. Got it?"

You're not exactly aggressive.

If you were an unbalanced type of alpha, you wouldn't be able to be a couple with her for so long.

You were just annoyed when others touched your omega.

Even if she could protect herself.

"You shouldn't have been so aggressive", Daki later whispers seductively, clinging to your clothes as you stand in a dark corner of the club, out of the bright artificial light. "Everyone knows I'm your omega. They wouldn't dare claim me"

Everyone knows you're her alpha. Only for some reason they ignore it.

Probably because if an omega smells like an alpha, it's not a sign that the omega is "marking"

What an abomination.

You looked seriously at your girlfriend, who cocked her head to one side, hanging on your every word.

So cute when she's not trying to play on your instincts.

"I'm not acting this way because of aggression against another alpha. I'm acting like this because no one can touch you without permission... Do you understand? Nobody. Even me"

If you weren't in public, Daki would purr like an affectionate cat. You have already seen, even through the gloom, how contentedly she smiled.

The color of your favorite lipstick glistened in the faint light from the dance floor.

"And if anyone does that, or otherwise interferes with you, I officially declare that I will bite their throat out"

"And if they looks?"

"I'll suck their eyes out of their sockets. Don't underestimate me, babydoll"

Daki lifts up to kiss you on the lips, wrapping her fingers around your neck. More likely to strangle than let go.

When she pulls away, the light is surprisingly reflected in her amorous eyes. Running her hand through your hair, she gently touches it, smiling coquettishly.

"Never♡"

This corner seems to be getting too lit up. And crowded. Sometimes your girlfriend's popularity is a little tiring.

Daki falls silent, relaxing in a warm embrace, unusually silent and thoughtful. you look below out of habit, expecting to see a white collar preventing a mark, but instead you see a bare neck with half a necklace hanging from it.

The other part is hanging around your neck.

"It's getting late", you gently wrap your arms around Daki's waist, which is easy to handle, though knowing her by day she would try to playfully pull away. "And not safe for cute, sleepy omegas. Let's go home"

"Is it really that unsafe to have their strong and brave alphas around?" Daki responded playfully, smiling. "Let me see... no?♡"

"Daki..."

The girl responded with a shrug and a flirtatious wink, squeezing your hand.

"Convince me that we need to go home"

At least she's never boring.

"Safer at home?"

"No, more boring at home! But what about the people? Dancing? Communication?"

You took a deep breath, and omega just giggled.

"Can we cuddle at home?"

"... perhaps..."

"At home, we'll watch some TV shows and relax?"

Daki averted her brooding gaze, pausing before looking at you coquettishly, smiling.

"Okay, we can go home if you don't like clubs so much..."

👑🌟

The walk home was quieter than you originally thought.

"Daki, don't run on the ice, you'll fall"

"Daki, your lips are blue. Maybe you'd better wear my clothes?"

"Daki, hold on to me, please. It's safer and warmer"

"[Y/n], I'm not a little girl!"

"Of course not"

In the end, Daki agreed to hide in your clothes, and "led the way" while you slowly followed her, trying not to step on her feet.

You walked in silence, which was interrupted only by short questions "are we going there for sure?" and "yes, I know, I know!". Daki gave you long looks from time to time, the meaning of which you did not understand, but decided not to ask, guessing what thoughts appeared in her head.

"Don't leave my side, dear. I've heard that there are aggressive dogs here"

"Like I might want to get away from my warm alpha, mmm"

👑🌟

It was much more comfortable at home than at the club. There were no bright lights, no strange smells, no annoying alphas that you would love to chew through an artery if they came after your omega again.

What a joy that the law does not regulate this issue in any way.

Like the question of killing alphas by omegas when they want to abuse an omega.

You looked at Daki, who, in her favorite pink sweater (your birthday present, before you even thought about starting a relationship), was looking for something interesting in a box of CDs, her head pressed against your shoulder. Bending her legs in only short socks, Daki spent a long time sorting through the disks, dissatisfied with throwing unnecessary ones.

"How about we watch this?" there was a disk in front of your face that you didn't recognize. "Something romantic... or a melodrama... Just right for this evening!"

👑🌟

The film was not bad. Not too original, but atmospheric. With songs, winter and "Christmas miracle".

Putting your arm around Daki's waist, you pressed your lips to the mark, not being too interested in the plot. Daki gave you playful glances, but to the last played hard to get, ignoring your courtship.

After kissing her neck, you slowly put your hand on her knee, watching her reactions. Daki only snuggled closer to you, giggling for a moment as you gently ran your fingers along her thigh before returning to the film, "ignoring" you.

However, it definitely became harder for her to ignore you as your fingers gently traced the inside of her thigh, very close to her panties.

A slight blush appeared on her face.

Bringing her legs together and holding your hand between her thighs, Daki gave you a hot look before tilting her head forward, submissively baring the neck you pressed your lips to.

Daki hated it when you bit her.

👑🌟

Even after the credits ended, you continued to sit, using the light from the black, unplugged screen.

You felt very warm from the warmth of your girlfriend and the faint, sweet smell that made you feel a little dizzy. Daki, on the other hand, was much less sleepy — although she didn't stop fidgeting all through the movie, squeezing your hand, and now she was breathing heavily, digging her nails into your hands, but she was silent, thinking about something.

The pain was mild and bearable, but unpleasant.

Suddenly getting out, Daki pulled you towards her, once again starting to smile coquettishly, hinting at a surprise.

And when her back hit the floor, she grabbed the sweater and pulled it up. Smiling cheekily, she raised an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Isn't that what you wanted, my love? Watch a movie and relax? Your omega is ready for anything♡"

It was hard to deny that now, lying under you, with her cheeks so rosy and her expression so confident, she didn't look... attractive.

Very attractive.

"And? Why are you only looking? My breasts are waiting♡"

And grabbing your head, Daki confidently placed it on her chest while continuing to smile cheekily. One hand clutching the clothes on your back, the other she placed on your head, stroking, watching you.

Daki has always been a warm body, but you doubted that now you will want to fall asleep again. Although, her breasts were a great place to sleep — soft, with large, pink nipples that she once wanted to pierce.

Some pink jewelry would look great. In addition, you could play with the piercing — wrap your lips and gently pull. Or, if it's rings, you could come up with something about light chains.

Considering how masochistic Daki was, she would have liked that. As long as you don't tell her to obey you outside of bed.

"Hey, [Y/n]?" whispered Daki, continuing to stroke your hair as you gently played with her breasts, squeezing and rubbing to hear her moan, "I love you"

You stopped, looking from her breasts to your girlfriend.

"What are you looking at?" said Daki excitedly, still patting you on the head. "I mean... look, even if you threaten to hit the other alphas, or, you know, kill them, I appreciate it. I know I'm acting like I don't like it, but I don't. It's kind of nice"

You were still looking at your girlfriend, which made her even more embarrassed.

"Okay! Good! It turns me on when you act like a bossy alpha! All right?! Stop staring like that! This is normal for omega!"

Grabbing the nipple, you pulled slightly, causing Daki to suddenly moan, spreading her legs for you.

You immediately moved your hand lower, gently stimulating through the thin, already wet panties, to which Daki abruptly squeezed your hair, trying to grip your hand tighter.

You pressed harder, indulging your girlfriend, moving your fingers more roughly, as if you were trying to tear your panties and get inside.

But your pressure was interrupted by Daki, pulling you and aggressively kissing you on the lips, not allowing you to pull away, with the second hand trying to caress you to those places that she could reach.

She swung her leg over your hip and pulled you back, panting and shivering.

"I love you too, my Queen"

It was even wetter between her legs, and the completely wet panties made it easier for you to slide over her labia, but prevented her from having an orgasm. Even the faint touch of her clit, though it sent a shiver of pleasure through her body, only made her tease harder.

"Damn it, just rip it off me already!" she whispered, trying to kiss you again, "or I'm about to bring myself to orgasm"

"Who can make you better than yourself?"

"Damn, I hate you!"

👑🌟

There was something cute about how red Daki was, biting the edge of her sweater and masturbating in front of you.

With ringing, squelching sounds, then penetrating inside with her fingers, caressing herself from the inside, then taking them out, stroking her labia, she purred charmingly while you stimulated her wet clit.

The performance, consisting of her reaction and sounds, was delightful.

Arching, she trembled, her mouth open and her legs clenched sharply, blocking your view. You only began to caress more slowly, feeling a strong tremor, continuing until she again spread her legs.

Slipping down to you, Daki clung trustingly to your shoulder, wet and shivering.

"You see", you began gently, massaging the girl's back, "you're doing just fine on your own, like a big girl"

The bite on the shoulder looked more like a symbol of embarrassment and indignation than defiance. Especially with that sweet, red face she tried to hide from you.

"Shut up", Daki said, catching her breath. "Shut up and get on the couch. And take off your clothes. We're not done yet"

"Oops?"

"My mouth isn't just made to rip out your opponents' throats and bite you if you didn't know it"

#daki x reader #daki #gender neutral reader #demon slayer scenarios #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #🍮.omegaverse au #🍮.modern au #submission #nsft #kimetsu no yaiba smut #daki smut #🍡.masturbation #🍡.petting

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nickiewrites · 4 years

Text

Santa Tell Me... (Ransom Drysdale)

A/N: No warnings, literally just FLUFF🥺❤️ My first story in MONTHS!! also, i’m calling this Santa Tell Me, because I got the idea from Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande and it sort of has inuendos to the lyrics and it’s a cute name so

I made some edits so it flows better, I hope lol

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Sipping the red wine out of the glass, looking around the large house. The big tree stood at 10ft tall, full of twinkling lights and ornaments, topped with a warm colored star. The dining room had food lined up and down the long table. The fireplace roaring in the living room, the warmth flowing through the house. I took another sip of the wine and my ears tuned into ‘Let It Snow’ playing softly. I crossed my arms and turned around, pulling the cream colored sweater tighter around my body. Eyes flickering up from the glass in my hand, gaze catching on him, looking right back at me. Standing across the hall, in a white t-shirt, underneath a grey sweater, designer jeans and loafers. His father was talking to him but all his attention was on me. I waved at him shyly, a small smile in the corner of his mouth returned.

He left the conversation he wasn’t really having with his father and started walking towards me. I followed suit and met him halfway in the hallway by the front door. I looked up at his tall frame, feeling his hands make their way onto my hips.

“We can leave after desert and presents, I promise. These parties never seem to end. Even when they start to get boring, my family insists since it’s Christmas Eve, we have to spend it together.” He spoke softly to me.

“It’s okay, Ran. I’m having an...okay time.” I tried to sound cheery, but there was still uncertainty in my voice.

It wasn't the boring party that had me a bit down.

“An ‘okay’ time is not a reason to stay, baby. I know I've barely gotten to spend time with you but if I don’t come and talk to my family, I'm afraid granddad will cut me out of the will.” He sighed, kissing me on the cheek.

I put my hand on his chest and nodded my head. “Really, it’s okay. I just, kinda want to eat.” I giggled softly as Ransom smiled. I saw his head flicker up to the ceiling and look at what was hanging above us. He looked down smirking at me. “I bet that will liven things up a bit.” He says and starts to lean in.

I panic and start to pull away. “I-I… I have to go to the bathroom.” I mumble and run to the small restroom around the corner, not looking back knowing he probably doesn’t have a happy look on his face. I locked the door and sat down on the floor, breathing in and out slowly before downing the rest of the drink in my glass. I sit there a few more minutes and calm down before walking back out.

I wander around the house, looking for Ransom. Without luck of finding him, I sigh, knowing I screwed up, I start to walk to the door to retrieve my coat, when Meg, Ransom’s younger cousin and one of the only other tolerable people here, walks up to me.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks, grabbing my arm with a serious look in her eyes.

“Yeah… yeah i’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I breathe out.

“I just.. I saw what happened with Ransom and.. I wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you or anything. I don’t think he would but you just ran away so fast.”

My face got red. “Oh yeah, we’re okay. It’s my fault. Have you seen him by the way? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“I think he left.” She said softly. “I saw him walk out the door after you went to the bathroom.”

My shoulders dropped in disappointment.. From myself. My hands came up to my eyes and I started to cry.

“Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” Meg asks again, getting closer and pulling me into a hug. I cry in her arms for a minute before pulling away and whipping my eyes.

“… Ransom and I have only been casually seeing each other for like 2 months now and.. I haven’t told him this but. I didn’t know how this Christmas was going to go. I met this guy last year around Christmas and I totally fell for him and it was way too fast and I think I scared him away, because by New Years day, he had blocked me on all social media and I never saw him again. I didn’t want to push Ransom like that… even though I think i’m way more into him than I ever was that douche I met last year. And I just got worried about falling too fast again if Ransom didn’t feel the same way. I know his history, with women and I like to think that i’m different but he’s never said so, and I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. We haven’t even had sex yet, i’m just worried. So i’ve been pushing him away and I think tonight was the last straw.” I explained.

Meg looked at me with sorry eyes before speaking up again. “Ransom is… something else. He’s an asshole. At least to us, we’re his family. But you? You’re something else. He’s never brought a girl to Christmas Eve.” She said. My eyes perked up from the floor, a confused look on my face.

“What?”

“Yup. I’m serious, I'm not bullshitting. All those other girls he’s been with were just fuck buddies, no need for us to meet them.”

“I-I.. I would think it wouldn’t matter to him because he hates coming to big family events, so why would it be important if he brought someone?”

“That’s true, he does hate being here. But, I think it’s more the fact that even though he is trying to make sure he doesn’t get cut off,” I giggle, “he still wants to spend Christmas with someone important… you.” She smiles at me and I know she’s telling the truth.

“Now, I can’t speak for him, but I do know him pretty well, believe it or not. Just.. give him some time. He’ll open up to you, I'm sure of it.” She smiled at me, giving me one more reassuring look and hugging me once, telling me to be safe and have a good night.

I walked out on the porch, closing the door behind me. I didn’t realize the figure standing by the window, until I just reached the steps and he spoke up.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” His deep voice startled me. I whip around and see Ransom leaning against the window next to the door, smoking a cigarette.

“W-what?” I asked, shocked that he was still here, expecting to either never hear from him again or at least have a little time to process my thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me that happened and that’s why you’ve been avoiding all physical contact with me?” He said, standing up from the wall and flicking his cigarette out of his hands.

“I-i’m sorry. We just.. Haven't made anything official… and I didn’t want to scare you away.” I mumbled under my breath, head looking down as his towering body came into my space. “Wait… you’re still here? You heard everything? You didn’t leave?” I asked, head pointing up to look him in the eyes.

“I thought about it. I was so pissed at you for just running away, acting like I was food you just threw out and I disgusted you. But I was outside smoking and was just about to leave when I heard you crying and talking to Meg. Baby, why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, pulling me in for a hug.

I was shocked at first but eventually returned the gesture, wanting nothing more than him to hold me in his strong arms on a cold winter night.

“Like I said,” I started off, crying softly into his shoulder, “Because of what happened last year, I was just scared to fall too fast. I didn’t want you to leave me because… because I could really see us being together. But I didn’t want to say anything, because it’s only been two months and it’s just casual, we’re not exclusive. You could be seeing other girls too, I don’t know, you’re not mine-”

“But I want to be.”

My eyes widened at the statement. I was taken aback. It wasn’t like he told me he loved me or anything… But it was a start.

“You what?”

“I wanna be yours, princess. Meg was… right. For once. You are so easy to open up too… and I want to. I appreciate so much that you didn’t want to scare me away. But I feel the same way you do. I haven’t been seeing any other girls since you. I don’t want to. I just want to see you. You make it so easy to be myself around you and even though my entire family hates me, you care about me, despite my flaws and you wanna be with me. I wanna be with you. I wanna be exclusive, I want people to know you’re my girlfriend.”

I felt my cheeks burning from the tears rolling down my eyes, Ransoms thumbs coming up to wipe them away and he laughed a little.

“M sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry, jus’ wanted you to know how I felt about you.”

I smiled so wide I thought my cheeks were going around my entire head. “So, you're not gonna leave me?”

“No angel, never. I’m gonna be right next to you when you wake up, for the rest of your life. You’re stuck with me.” He smiled, fingers still softly touching my cheeks. I took a chance and captured his lips with mine, finally giving him his christmas kiss. When we pulled away, he smiled at me again and then placed a kiss on my forehead, before grabbing my hand in his.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go. Christmas is tomorrow and I want you to stay with me. I have a lot of gifts to give you.… spoiler alert… they all kisses.”

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shyrose57 · 3 years

Note

It works very much like illusions. Ranbob can see him but can't touch him. While Dream can touch him (though it feel like more of a faint touch). The entire time Ranbob feels like he's dreaming but due to physical evidence, like notes left by Dream, he knows it isn't a dream. He's just kinda existing. But in actuality he's not completely "there", sometimes he is aware of what's going on (though he never remembers more often than not) but that's when Dream allows it, other than that he's either floating aimlessly in the void or dreaming. Not aware of what's happening.

Definitely, Enderman tend to be 7 ft+. Infact when traveling and Enderman spot Ranbob, they always voice their worry about him being so short. They know he's a hybrid so he was always going to be shorter than them, but he shouldn't have been this short. His growth is permanently stunted. Its a miracle he even got those 2 inches to be honest. Ran was definitely caught off guard seeing Ranbob so short. But quickly dismissed it in favor of attacking him. But later on as time passes, he can't dismiss the unease and concern he gets when he thinks about the difference so easily as he did eailer. The Gladiators notice right away but don't comment on it, the Fishermen think Ranbobs height is normal so when they meet Ran and learn Enderman hybrids typically grow that big and bigger their caught off guard, Cletus and Charles attempt to question Ran what its like to be so tall but Benjamin stops them.

He did, the Dream Mask has a small bit of it broken off due to it being dropped (Ranbob didn't break it. He suspects maybe when it was being transferred it got dropped in its holding box and thats what broke it). Ranbob picked it up because he meant to throw it away, but he forgot too. Giving Dream more time to get a hold on him. They talked about whatever came to mind at first since Benjamin didn't want to start off with the rough questions. But eventually the two did start to talk about what happened to Ranbob and who/what Dream was.

Dream does not consider it important enough because he thinks he's never going back there. So it falls into disrepair and gets all dusty with some mold even growing in the room.

Dreams petty and likes being in control of everything. But Dream would just kinda wander, making sure no ones alive. Every now and again he'll get bored and just destroy something. The fishermen explored and read about the history of Mizu while they were there, then after Ranbob attacked them spent most of the time arguing about what to do with him.

It just leads to Cletus being mean/rude to Ranbob and taking much longer than the others to be comfortable around him. If that's what you mean.

-------------------

Yes! When it was down to just 4 people left alive in Mizu, Ran stumbled upon the 4th person dead, then it all kind of clicks in his head, as the only other person currently alive is a Council Member, that it has to be his brother. So he rushes off to find the Council Member so they can stop Ranbob, only to find Ranbob standing over his dead corpse. Thats when the chase around Mizu ticks off that ends with Ran fleeing Mizu.

Cause while spiders are passive in daytime, creepers aren't, and don't burn in the light. Plus they are loud with their explodes (yet oddly quiet) which can give his position away.

Eh I'll say. Their not really super common because mixing them can cause serious side effects during and after mixture. But the healing, sleep aids, and infection mixtures are common as they've been figured out and can safely be made. Fun fact: Subbin actually has an entire community and an official place in the government for figuring out potion mixtures, making new ones, and making the mixing process as safe as possible.

The group doesn't really use the mixtures much, expect for Rans sleep aid and a every now and again healing mixture when a Pit match goes wrong. Cause Grievous used to intern in a potion shop and learned all about them then.

He really did.

Your right! Not many people traverse it. Because he was a Technoblade follower, and they typically get taught the bare basics of surviving in environments like the Nether, deserts, snow, caves, etc in their teachings. He got da book from his Idol teachers, everyone in his Idol group got a book as well.

You can ask! I welcome any and all questions.

There's gold coins (I forget the actual in-game name oop) ore deposits in the Nether, so he mines that. Not any specific ones, cause there is still a language barrier and a mostly gesture barrier (expect for the universal ones like wait, ok/good, no harm, etc).

They made a group decision to try to check the Nether on a whim. Though mostly cause one guy just wouldn't shut up about it. They found a broken portal and managed to repair it enough to enter.

The Fishermen and Ranbob where kinda confused (cause Ran hadn't fully told them about his time on the run.) But expressed sympathy at his house being burned down. Jackie and Grievous wanted to search it for anything usable, Ran didn't let em cause he thinks there's nothing left. Watson shoots Ran a sympathetic look and declared that he wants to keep moving to find shelter. Benjamin quickly agreeing and the group moves on.

---------Tip of The Iceberg-----------

He does not expect in all of their times he's still the God of the world.

Honestly, most of them were fine. Bad was the only one who was mad and wasn't ok with it. The Masquerade, The Pit, Sam, Sapnap, Quackity, Foolish, Ranboo, Skeppy, Tubbo, Tommy, and Karl all say the Egg wrote it because they all have had experience with the Egg. The Haunted Mansion, The Wild West, George, Fundy, Eret, Jack, Niki, and Puffy all say XD because they've either had no experience with the Egg or believe in XD's existence. Philza and Technoblade actually go both ways. (If I forgot someone, oops).

Technoblade, Phil, Niki, The Pit, The Wild West, Puffy, Sapnap, and Sam are all on the Frontline. While the others are all split between research into the egg (The Masquerade is in this one of course), and running tests. Fundy is a runner, delivering orders, requests, or new information. Foolish is on both the researching, testing, and frontlines, he is on the frontlines when needed but otherwise is researching and testing. Karl is typically somewhere with one of the many Traveler groups. Quackity, Eret, and Sam (when not on frontlines) are on planning duties.

The Egg is strong enough to propose a real and constant threat to the groups. Everyone is typically on the move to avoid the reaching of the Egg and its Eggpire.

Bad hasn't gotten what he wants, which is Skeppy. And as he has "opened his eyes" a bit he sees the hypocrisy, manipulation, and lies that surround the Egg and wants out.

----------------------

Ye ye Brothers AU sorry.

The fishermen get to their home, wake up the next day, and Ranbob is already making a field for wheat and potatoes. Benjamin fucking squawks and races out to make Ranbob stop. And Isaac eventually has to come out and help cause Ranbob is refusing to leave. Cletus laughs at Ranbob and makes fun of him but stops when he sees Charles sadly staring at him. A silent ask to stop.

He does but Porkius is chill and let's the Gladiators do whatever they want as long as they are still in fighting condition for matches and gives them money every week. Plus he's chill and is kinda friends with them. But sometimes Porkius has them go to extravagant parties with him. They all hate going, not just Ran. Mostly cause the rich people are snobs and either 1. Constantly insult them in conversation than act surprised when they get mad at them and report it to Porkius. 2. Talk with them but talk exclusively about themselves and are insensitive to the Gladiators. But sometimes there's actually people at the parties who are genuinely curious and kind and want to get to know the Gladiators. Those conversations are pleasant and the Gladiators, no matter who it is, actively enjoy the conversation.

Ran has always been mischievous. Even witnessing murder, being traumatized, hunted constantly, and fighting non-stop hasn't changed that. If anything he got more mischievous over time.

Something extra I wanted to share:

-There is music in world and the player the Gladiators share get brought on the trip so they can play music the entire time.

-Ran and Grievous fight over who gets to pick music often.

-Fun fact about why I did this: Every single part of this story and all others has been either created by or inspired by music. For example the Tip of The Iceberg AU was solely inspired by the song True North (by Vocal Line), while Brothers AU was made from Ruler of Everything (by Tally Hall) and partly Mind Electric (by Miracle Musical). So I wanted to include music somehow. (I actually have a entire playlist with music that I've used for certain parts of the Brothers AU.)

Brothers AU:

Interesting, interesting. What triggers these 'dreams'? Can Dream do it, or is it like just something that happens?

I'm assuming only the brothers would know what the Endermen are saying, but there's also body language, so how does everyone react to that behavior? Do one of the brothers ever tell them what's being said, or? What's everyone's thoughts on Ranbob's height, seeing as the Fishermen were surprised, and the Gladiators immediately noticed?

How does Benjamin feel about what he hears? Is he a bit skeptical at first, or fully believing Ranbob's words?

So the room's in disrepair, interesting. At some point, it's mentioned that they go back there, I think, so does that strike anyone as odd?

He destroyed stuff? Like just general items or artifacts? How did Ranbob feel, if/when he was aware?

------------------

Why didn't he assume it was the Council Member? What clues led him to his brother instead?

Understandable.

Oh, that's really interesting!

World building galore, fantastic!

Who was the one guy?

He thinks? Was there something left then?

-----------------

Tip Of The Iceberg AU:

Still the god? He didn't expect that? Was someone else supposed to be? If so, who? What's his reaction to learning such?

Bad seems to be straying from the egg, does he intend to leave it? Or does it have a way to keep him?

Do we have any particular groups here? People who fight or work well together, and kind of drift to one another? What sort of dynamics do we get with all of this, especially since everyone's on the move constantly to avoid the Eggpire.

------------------

Brothers AU:

Benjamin: Whatcha got there?

Ranbob: Excessive labor when I should be resting.

Benjamin, gasping: NO!

What are the parties typically like? Do they behave or cause havoc? Switch it up? Anyone in particular they don't hate talking to there?

Always mischievous, just better at hiding it. Wait, that means Ranbob would have known he was like that, wouldn't he? He'd know exactly what to expect. Would anyone else? Either way, that should be amusing.

------

What kind of music do they have, and what does everyone prefer to listen to?

(Time to go on a song-spree!)

#dream smp #dream smp au #Brothers AU #Tip Of The Iceberg AU #tales from the smp

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doyelikehaggis · 4 years

Text

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Luke Patterson x Willie (Julie and the Phantoms)

Requested by @phoenixfidelity

Luke can't help but be distracted every so often. He can tell that it's starting to get on the rest of the bands nerves every time he misses a chord or he accidentally glances away from the lyrics so he misses a word and then the whole thing is forced to an abrupt halt. He's really trying to stay focused.

Usually it's a piece of cake! He loves the band and he loves playing, because he gets so lost in the music that he forgets the rest of the world exists half the time.

He catches sight of Willie out of the corner of his eye again as they're building up to the chorus of the new song they've been working on. Luke resists the urge to look away from the notebook in front of him.

His fingers keep moving determinedly... while his eyes dart off to the side. It's just a split second, then they're right back on the page, and he hasn't missed anything!

But his mind is quickly taken over by the brief glimpse of Willie that he got. He's just sitting cross-legged on the studio floor, hair tied up in a messy bun, nodding along to their music while he paints. While wearing one of Luke's hoodies. He found it lying on the back of the couch when they came in and he said he was cold, and so he asked if he could borrow it, and Luke wasn't going to say no, was he? That would be rude!

Besides, the orange actually really suits him. It matches the streaks of yellow paint on his cheeks--

Luke quickly glances back over. Sure enough, there is actually paint smeared across Willie's face. And a paintbrush in his mouth while he carefully paints with a different one. He's so focused, his eyebrows scrunched, his foot tapping to the beat on his knee--

Luke catches the mess up in his chords but not before he can stop it. He abruptly stops playing, the rest of the band once again halting along with him.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to--" He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly down at his guitar. "Let's just go again, yeah? I'll get it this time, I promise."

"Yeah, I don't think you will," Julie says, and Luke's surprised to find her smiling rather than being mad about it. She and the rest of the band share a look.

"Probably better if we take a break for now," Reggie agrees, clearly trying to suppress a smile of his own and failing miserably as he lifts his bass strap over his head.

"I'm... getting kinda hungry anyway," Alex lies, nodding way too eagerly.

Willie looks up for the first time since their last brief pause. "Are you guys done?"

Another look is shared. Luke shakes his head vigorously, staring at them all in disbelief.

"No! No, we're not! Come on, we still have to practice this song or else we're not gonna have it ready for tomorrow!"

"You'll be fine!" Flynn assures him, hooking an arm around Julie's shoulders. "You guys sounded great! Well... most of the time."

"Yeah, you were really good," Willie agrees, beaming at them with such sincerity that Luke's heart melts under the rays of sunshine he radiates when he turns it on him.

He barely notices Reggie muttering, "And that's our cue..." and the four of them scattering around the studio, and practically leaving the two of them alone.

Luke doesn't know why they're acting like this. So, yeah, he keeps getting distracted from the music. But he's trying to stay focused! It's not exactly going to help if the rest of them just decide to give up!

He sighs and decides he may as well put his own guitar aside for the moment.

"You okay?" Willie asks with a slight laugh, but his eyes are concerned when Luke glances up at him.

His stomach flips over like a pancake. It's weird but it's been doing that a lot lately and he can't seem to figure out why. Maybe he's coming down with something? That would be super inconvenient timing considering they have a gig tomorrow!

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Luke says, but even he feels like he's somehow lying even as he tries for a grin.

Willie isn't buying it either. He takes a moment to think, his eyebrows only creasing the tiniest bit this time as his thumb rubs a circle into the crease of his elbow. Luke finds the movement strangely calming to watch.

Then it stops, and Willie lights up. "Well, since you guys are... taking a break for the time being, do you wanna help me with this?"

Luke finally tries to take a proper look at what he has actually been doing this entire time as Willie moves over to sit beside him on the couch.

There's a poster -- multiple, actually, as well as what Luke swears is a pile of what were once his guitar picks. He doesn't really play his acoustic too much anymore because it never sounds right with any of their songs, and his fingers just got used to the feel of the strings on his electric, so there wasn't ever really a use for them anymore.

Willie notices him picking up one of the plectrums and turns sheepish. "I found them lying about in here and thought they could use a little... sprucing up." He shrugs. "I didn't think anyone would really mind."

Luke shakes his head and grins as he picks up another in amazement. Each one is painted, and not just a solid colour, but a whole piece of art is painted onto each one. Scenes of bridges with the sunset behind them, fields full of vibrant plants, a starry night sky, a gh--

Luke raises his eyebrows at him. "Is this meant to be me?"

Willie peers at the one he's holding up which features a ghost silhouette wearing an orange beanie with a guitar strapped around its translucent little body.

"Yep," Willie confirms, then breaks out into another sheepish laugh. "I got a little bored of the fancy designs, and I thought that it would be funny, seeing as how you're, you know, Julie and the Phantoms."

"So," Luke glances at the pile of plectrums, "did you do one for all of us?"

"I haven't gotten around to it yet. I wanted to start with you 'cause I figured you'd make the cutest ghost. With the beanie and all."

Luke's stomach does the thing again. And he swears his face is burning up. He better not be getting a fever, because the thought of getting sick right before a gig is giving him a little too much deja vu.

"Does that mean you don't think I'm a cute ghost when I'm not wearing the beanie?" Luke teases, mock serious.

Willie laughs, caught in surprise by the question. But he shakes his head, gazing at Luke with creases around his eyes and a soft smile.

"No way. It's, like, totally impossible for you to not be cute."

Luke laughs as well now and gives him a gentle push, his hand lingering on Willie's arm. "Shut up."

"I got you smiling, at least," Willie points out.

"Yeah, well." Luke doesn't really have anything else to say because he's right.

He looks at him for a second as Willie shifts his attention back down to the posters and plectrums. Luke doesn't mean to stare, but there's something about watching his fingers move that feels... comforting, even when they're just moving a stray bit of hair behind his ear.

"Have you ever played guitar?" Luke blurts out without thinking.

Willie looks back up in surprise but shakes his head. "No. I like listening to music and sometimes performing with Caleb was fun but that was only ever singing. I've never really gotten the hang of an instrument. Takes too long to figure it all out."

"What if I helped?" Luke asks, not fully sure why he's offering. "I'm not saying perform with us. I'm just saying it could be a fun hobby, if you had someone helping you figure it all out."

Willie considers it then shrugs, beaming at him again. Luke's beginning to think he needs sunglasses just to be around him because he finds himself grinning back before Willie's even answered.

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it! But I will warn you, I'm not the most patient person."

"Good thing I am then," Luke says.

"No he's not!" Reggie shouts over to them from the other couch in the corner.

Luke glares at him but Reggie just raises his hands with a confused expression as if to say, what did I do?!

Rolling his eyes as Willie laughs, Luke says, "Don't listen to him. We can practice later and use my old acoustic, that way it'll be a bit easier and you can use one of your awesome designer picks."

He gestures to the pile and Willie scans over them, looking for one to use. Then he picks up the one with the ghost version of Luke on it.

"A great choice, if I do say so myself," Luke says, grinning. "Now, what are we painting?"

Willie hands him a paintbrush and one of the posters. He explains the design and they both start working on them. At some point in between Luke finishing one and Willie just adding a few last touches to his own, Luke tries experimenting on one of the blank picks himself.

When he shows it to Willie, his eyebrows raise and he almost doesn't seem to know what to say for a second. Then his face splits into a smile of pure joy and Luke doesn't think he's ever felt so pleased with himself as he does watching Willie gush over the little ghost hovering over a skateboard like it's the best thing he's seen.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #luke x willie #willie x luke #luke patterson #willie #willie jatp #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedit*#phoenixfidelity #this is such a cute pairing though??#they would be disaster dorks together and I love that for them

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beclynn-herondale · 4 years

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In Another Universe: Chapter 9 - The Greenhouse part 1

He wasn't sure if he had screamed, if he had it would have been again for the hundredth time tonight. The motorcycle was flying, it felt like a rollercoaster almost, it also caused that weird feeling you get in your stomach when you ride one. He looked back at the roof and saw the vampires and werewolves. And looked away honestly if he ever saw that place again it would be way too soon. Jayce was screaming in delight. Clar tightened his arms around her. "My mother told me that if I ever rode a motorcycle with someone, she'd kill me." he called over the sound of the the wind and bike. "Not if she knew me," she called back with confidence. "I am excellent at driving." Clar remembered something suddenly. "Hey, I thought Alec said only some of these could fly?" "Only some can!" "So how did you know this one could?". "I had no idea if it could!" she shouted happily, she did something that the bike ride in the air.

"Look down!" she shouted. "It's so amazing!" Curiousity making him want to, even though he was still terrified, he looked down. They were a lot higher than he had originally thought. They were flying over the city, it was beautiful, in a terrifying way. Jayce tunred the bike towards the brooklyn bridge. "You okay?" she shouted. He didn't say anything, held on more tightly. He felt nauseous all of a sudden and was reminded of how high they were and how they could fall so far down, he shut his eyes. "Clar?" she yelled again. "Are you ok, Clar? He shook his head. Something scratched at him, he ignored it until it scratched again. He opened his eyes slightly, and saw it was Simone, her head out of Clar's jacket, tugging at it. "It's okay, Simone." he said, not wanting to look down. "It was just the bridge—" But she scratched him again, pointing her paw towards the waterfront, rising up on their left. Still dizzy he looked up and saw sunrise. "Yes, it's very pretty," he said, shutting his eyes again. "It's a beautiful sunrise.' Jayce went rigid. "Sunrise?" she yelled, and jerked the bike towards the waterline. Clar leaned as closely as he could without squashing Simone. "What's wrong with the sunrise?" "I told you back on the roof! These bikes run on demon energies!"

She pulled the bike on level with the river. Water splashed them. "When the sun comes up— The bike started to sputter. Jayce said a colorful amount of swear words, and slammed her hand into the accelerator. It lunged forward, jerked under them. Jayce was still swearing, one time in what sounded like french. Clar saw every rock and pebble that was under them as they cleared past the river and over the narrow bank. Below them was the highway, full of early morning traffic.

They barely cleared it, beyond was a parking lot. "Hold on tight, Clar, don't let—" The bike struck the asphalt of the parking lot, the front wheel hitting first. Then it struck a concrete barrier with a terrible force that it lifted him off the bike and threw him sideways, his grip breaking from Jayce. He curled up into a protective ball, hoping Simone wouldn't be crushed. He hit the ground hard, pain shooting up his arm. He flipped over onto his back, the wind knocked out of him. He reached for his pocket, but it was empty. He tried to call for Simone but the his breath was knocked out of him, He wheezed.

His entire body hurt, he rolled over. Dawn had come, he saw the remains of the bike turning into ash as the suns rays shined on it. And there was Jayce, getting to her feet painfully, she hurried to him, and slowed down a little when she got closer. Her jacket sleeve was torn and she had a long graze her arm that was bleeding. Her face was pale under her golden curls, that were now dirty from the events of last night. He wondered why she looked so pale and shocked. Was his leg was torn off, lying across the parking lot with a pool of blood?

He started to get up when there was a hand in his shoulder. "Clar?". "Simone!" She was kneeling down beside him, looking a little dirty and crumpled, her glasses were gone but she appeared to be unharmed otherwise. She reached out and touched his face. "Ow!". "Are you alright? You look good," she said, with a catch to her voice. "The most amazing thing that I've—". "That's because your glasses are gone," he said weakly, but Simone didn't give a smart response back, instead she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. She was alright he thought, she's alright. "Clar," she said. "I didn't—i didn't think you—". "Come for you? Of course I did," he said. "Of course did." he said and put his arms around her. He stroked her back reassuringly.

He glanced back at Jayce for a moment, she was turning away as if the sun hurt her eyes, he wondered why.

——————

Joan was leaning against a wall in the training room that was in this dimension place, flipping a knife back and forth, she was very good with knives now. Her father wanted to talk with her, she may be more connected with her demon blood now, but that didn't change the fact she still hated the man's guts. She thought his goals were boring and that he was your typical villian, he didn't have any ideals that surprised her. Not to mention a shitty father, and sounds like he was a shitty husband.

"Still having trouble with your anger, I have heard," said Valentine. "Still having trouble finding a Cup, I have heard" she replied. He looked furious for a moment but composed himself. She loved how she could get under his skin. "All in good time," he said. "Yeh? And how much time is that?" "Very soon." She looked at him. "Are you sure it's soon enough?" He smiled a devilish grin. "Yes." She didn't like the grin, there was something he wasn't telling her. "Jonathena," he said. "Yes?" "You have completed much if your training, faster than I had thought," he said. "Soon enough we will be in Idris, and with we'll have your mother, brother, and Jayce." He took a minute before he spoke again. "I have been thinking, if Lucian does decide to make a move, and if he does somehow succeed in getting in my way, I'll need you to play spy for me. Clar will trust you, and believe you. I don't think things will go wrong but I want a backup plan." She was slightly more intrigued now. "Whatever, not like I have a choice in the matter." He stared at her. "Things will not be so boring soon enough, my daughter."

Yeah, soon enough you'll have an angel cup and some sword and be attacking god knows what. She just wanted Clar and her mom, make sure they are safe and do whatever she needed to do to keep them safe. This Jayce did intrigue her though. Valentine seemed to speak slightly softer about her.

She went back to training with Alan, learning how to take on ten people at once. Lilith had some kind of way to strengthen her demon blood, Joan had no idea how, but with Greater Demons you never really knew, she supposed.

——————

Hodge was enraged when they got back, Alec and Isidore in the back lurking behind him. When Clar and the girls came in limping, covered in blood and filthy, he had instantly gone into a lecture that would have made Clar's mom very proud. He also didn't forget the part of how they had lied about where they had gone to—Which apparently Jayce had or the part about never trusting Jayce again. Also bits about breaking the law and being thrown out of the clave, and bringing shame onto the Wayland name. After he calmed down slightly, he looked at Jayce with a glare. "You've endangered other people people with your actions. This time I will not let you shrug it off!" "I wasn't planning on it," said Jayce. "It's kinda hard to shurg anything off at the moment. My shoulder is dislocated." "If only physical pain was actually a deterrence for you," said Hodge furious. "But you'll just spend the next few days in the infirmary with Isidore and Alec caring to your every need. And you'll probably very much enjoy it."

Hodge had been partly right. Jayce and Simone had both ended up in the infirmary, but only Isidore was running around caring for their every need when Clar — who'd gone to clean up — came back a few hours later. Hodge had tended to the bruise on his arm, and almost half an hour in the shower gotten the asphalt that was stuck in his skin out. But he still ached all over. Alec was sitting on the windowsill and looking irritated, angry, maybe almost even sad all at the same time, scowled as the door shut behind him. "Oh. It's you." He ignored Alec. "Hodge says he's on his way and hopes you two can hang onto your slowly fading life forms until he is here," or something of that variation." "I do hope he hurries," said Jayce crossly, she was sitting up in one of the infirmary beds, still in her filthy clothes, the lace top she had worn to the party torn in some places, though he assumed Shadowhunters were used to ruining clothes. "Why? Are you in pain?" he asked. "Nope. I have a very high pain tolerance. But I do get very easily bored." she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you remember how back in the hotel you promised that if we survived, you'd dress up in a nurse's outfit and give me a sponge bath?". "I think you misheard that," said Clar. "It was Simone who promised you that." Jayce looked over involuntarily to Simone, who gave her a wide smile. "As soon as I'm back to good health, beautiful." "I knew we should have left as a rat," said Jayce.

Clar laughed as he went over to Simone, who seemed uncomfortable surrounded by the many pillows Isidore had gotten for her. He sat down on the edge of her bed. "How do you feel?" "Like someone tried to grate me into cheese," she said, wincing as she moved her legs. "I broke a foot bone. It had swelled so much, Isidore had to cut my shoe off." "Glad he's taking such good care of you," he said with a little bit of acid in his tone. Simone leaned forward. "I want to have a talk with you." Clar nodded. "I'll be in my room. Come see me once Hodge gets you all fixed up, k?" "Yup." surprising him she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. It was a butterfly kiss, but as he pulled away, he knew he had blushed, probably, standing up, because everyone was staring at them.

On his way out to the hallway he touched his cheek, a kiss on the cheek didn't mean much of anything, but it was odd for Simone. Was she trying to make a point to someone? Clar never would understand the whole making someone else jealous thing that people did. And then there was Jayce, doing her wounded princess act.

"Clar!" He turned and to his surprise, there was Alec coming down the hall after him. They both stopped once she caught up to him. "I need to speak with you." Surprised again, he asked. "About what?" She hesitated for a moment. With her pale ivory skin she looked almost as striking as her brother, but unlike Isidore she did anything she could to downplay her looks and not be seen, her frayed sweaters and her bangs and blunt cut of her hair that fell over her shoulders that looked as if she cut it herself in the dark, was only part of it, she looked seriously uncomfortable in her own skin. "I think you should go. Go home, I mean," she said. He knew that Alec didn't like him but it still felt like she had slapped him. "Alec, I can't go home, it has forsaken and demons crawling around it, believe me nobody wants to go home more than me but i—" "You must have family somewhere that could take you in?" he thought she sounded desperate. "I don't have any family, and Hodge wants me to stay here," he said shortly.

"He can't possibly actually after everything you've done—" "Everything I've done?" "You almost got Jayce killed." "I almost— what are you talking about?" "Going after your friend like that—do you even know the danger you put her in? Do you know that—" "Her? Do you mean Jayce?" he cut her off. "Just so you know it was all her idea. She asked Magna where to find the vampire. She went to that church to get weapons. If I didn't go with her, she would have gone without me.". "By the angel, you don't understand," said Alec. "You don't know her like I do. I know her. She thinks she has to save the world, and she would gladly die doing it. hell I think she wants to die, but that doesn't mean you need to help her along to do it." "I really don't understand you people," he said. "Jayce is a Shadowhunter. This is your job, you help and save people, you kill demons and put yourself in danger everyday. How is it that last night was different from any other time?"

He saw her self control break. "Because I wasn't there!" she yelled. "Usually I am there, covering her back, making sure no harm come to her, keeping her safe. But you are just a burden, a mundane." she said the word like it tasted bitter in her mouth. "No, that's where you're wrong," he said. "I am a Nephilim, just like you." Her mouth curled up. "Perhaps," she said. "But with no training whatsoever, nothing at all, you're not much use, are you? Your mother raised you mundane, raised you in a world where you didn't have to know about the evil and darkness, and that's where you belong. Not her making Jayce act like someone she isn't, like she isn't a Shadowhunter. Making her break her oath. Making her break the law and not care—"

"Here's a news flash," he snapped at her. "I don't make Jayce do anything. Jayce does what she wants. You should know that." She looked at him with disgust. "I always forget, that you mundanes are totally selfish, isn't that right? You don't care about all that she's done for you, what she has risked? This isn't just about her safety and almost getting killed. She could be kicked out of the Clave. She lost her father and mother already, do you want her to lose the only other family she has?"

Rage rose in Clar. Rage against Alec, for being a little right. rage against his mother for not telling him about what the world really was and what he really was, for not telling Joan as well, for bit preparing them for all of this, and being some angel warrior who Clar didn't know, someone she needed so desperately right now but was not there. Rage against the fact that his father had died before he was born. Against Simone for almost getting herself killed and doing dangerous things. Rage against Jayce for not caring about whether she lived it died. Against Luke for not being there.

"You're one to talk about being selfish," he hissed viciously and Alec took a step back. "You don't about anyone in this world but yourself, Alec Lightwood. No wonder you've never even killed a single demon, because you're so afraid." Alec looked stunned, as if he had slapped her. "Who— who told you that?" "Jayce did." She looked again as if she had been slapped. "She wouldn't have. She would never say that." "Well, she did. You can go on and on about honor and honestly and all that but we both know if you were really honest, you would admit this is all because you're in love with her. It doesn't actually have anything to do—" He hit hard against the wall, felt his head hit against it hard. Alec had thrown him against it, she was taller than him and had her Shadowhunter training. Alec with her face inches from his now. "Don't you dare," she whispered with rage. "Say anything like that ever again or I'll kill you. I swear I will." It hurt where she gripped his arms. She let go, pulling back quickly. She looked horrified, like she couldn't believe she had just done that. She spyn around with no words, and stumbled towards the infirmary like she was drunk. "Great, Clar" he thought now she definitely hates you.

——————

He should have gone to sleep, passed out with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn't come. So instead he pulled his sketchpad out of his backpack, he started to draw scribbles at first, he drew the hotel, empty streets with dim lampposts, a shadowy figure at the end of the lamppost. Raphaela all covered in blood. He drew Jayce on top of the roof of the hotel, ten stories high, as if the fall was more a challenge, as if she was invincible. Like in the the dreams he had, he drew her with wings like the ones on the statue on the bone city.

He drew Joan, him and Simone, as kids at Luke's farm sitting in a pile of leaves. Lastly, he tried to draw his mom. He had told Jayce that there was really no difference after he read the gray book, it was mostly true. But now when he thought back to the memories of his mom, he saw the scars that lined her shoulders like snowflakes.

It hurt knowing that it was all a lie. Everything about his childhood and mother was a lie. he slid his sketchpad under his pillow know, feeling more exhausted. A soft tap on his door knocked him out of his thoughts. "Come in." Simone came in, she was still her dirty clothes and looked rumpled. He scooted sideways, so she could be on the other side of the bed with him. Lying a bed with Simone was never odd, they grew up Sleeping over at each other's houses, building blanket forts with the help of Joan, she always helped them build it right so it wouldn't fall down on them. When she had learned how to read, she read to them to get them to sleep on those nights. When Clar and Simone were older they stayed up reading comics and manga.

"You found your glasses," he said. noticing a lens was cracked slightly. "They faired pretty well considering they were in my pocket. I'll have to write a nice not to my eye doctor." She sat down by him slowly. "So Hodge fixed you up?" She nodded. "I still feel terrible though." She looked at him very seriously, her brown eyes fixed on him. "Clar, the fact that you came to save me—that you risked all that—" He held up his hand. "No need," he said. "You'd do the same for me." "Well, of course," she said. "I just always thought that was the way with us. You know." He looked at her puzzled. "What?"

"What I mean is," she seemed surprised it wasn't obvious. "I have always needed you more than you needed me." "That isn't true," Clar said appalled. "But, it is," she said calmly, it was unnerving. "You have never really needed anyone, you've been so I independent, so. . . Contained in your own world inside your head. All you've ever really needed was your pencild, chalk, and imaginary worlds. Sometimes I would say the same thing over and over to you before you'd come back to reality and realize it. And you'd give silly smile you always did. And I knew you had forgotten about the real world, about me, but I was never upset. A little of your attention is better than anyone else's entire attention." He reached out for her hand but instead got her wrist. "In my life, I have only loved four people," he said. "My mom and Luke, Joan, and you. I have lost mom and Luke, and Joan, but not you. Don't you ever imagine that you don't mean enough to me, don't ever think that."

"My mom always says you only need three people for self-actualization," said Simone, voice light but it cracked slightly. "She says you seem pretty self-actualized." Clar smiled. "Does your mom have any other words of wisdom about me?" She gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah," she said. "But i'll never tell." "No fair.". "Life is not fair, Clarus," she said, jokingly. But there was a slight truth to that statement.

——————

Jayce was avoiding Alec and Iz cause they were both trying to pick an argument with her, and Alec would give Jayce one of her usual speeches about responsibility and caring about yourself. She wasn't really in the mood for any of that. So she went off to take a shower and finally after what felt like forever was clean, she threw on a pair of jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. Hodge had reminded her it was Clar's birthday, well almost. So she snuck food from the kitchen and decided she would bring him to the greenhouse to show him the midnight flowers, they were one of the most beautiful things Jayce has ever seen, she couldn't quite describe how beautiful they are.

She remembered the first time she had seen them, the glow of them, all the colors they radiated. How when you saw them it was like time had stopped for just a moment. Jayce loved plants and even though many people would call it cliche for a girl to love flowers so much she didn't care, Jayce loved plants for their beauty.

She came up upon Clar's door, she held the paper bag that had the food in it behind her back. She knocked gently, he opened the door. There he was in jogger pants and a t-shirt, she looked at the freckles on the pale skin of his face and arms that she secretly thought were cute. He gave her a look up and then down.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" she asked curiously. "No," he said, stepping out into the hallway. "What makes you think that." "No reason." "I layed in bed almost a day," he said. "Aren't you tired though?" "Nope," she said. "Shadowhunters are always hard at work, almost no rest." "Uh huh," he said. "So why are you here, anyway?"

"Do you mean as in at your bedroom door or why am I here on earth, in this time. Do you mean what is my purpose here and what great things will I achieve?" He gave her that usual look he did, the one that said I know you're half joking and I am slightly amused but also slightly annoyed. She knew that look well, Alec gave her similar look at times, but Clar's was different in a way, it for one of the first times since she could remember left her not able to describe it exactly, like he could see through to why she was this way. "Imma go back to bed," he said.

He reached for the doorknob but she slid in front of him. "I am here," she said. "Because Hodge reminded me it's your birthday." He gave a sigh. "It's tomorrow, actually." "Why not start celebrating early," she said, and gave him a grin. He eyed her. "You're avoiding Isidore and Alec, aren't you?" She gave him a nod. "You caught me," she said, and added in a more serious tone. "They are trying to pick fights with me, and I am simply not in the mood." "Do they both have the same reason?' "I don't know." she glanced down the hall, as if she were trying to avoid eye contact with him. "Hodge, as well. Almost everyone wants to talk to me. But not you I suppose. I bet you don't want to talk." "You're right," he said, and for a moment he thought she might walk away, but he continued. "I want food, I am hungry."

She brought up the bag from behind her. "I sneaked food when Hodge wasn't paying attention." He grinned at her. "A picnic? Isn't it late for that? Isn't central park—" "Full of faeries. Yes, yes it is." "I was going to say muggers, actually," he said. "Though I pity the fool who would try and mug you.". "Ah, very wise of you, I commend for it," she said. "But I didn't mean central park. I was thinking the greenhouse." "Won't it be dark? It's night—" She smiled at him. "Come, I'll show you."

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @replayfootsteps @magnus-the-maqnificent @simply-ellas-stuff @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @bookfast-at-tiffanys

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captainjanegay · 4 years

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Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: It's been... so long since I've updated this fic. I'm sorry but life got in the way and I couldn't bring myself to write anything. Here I come with apologies and hopes that you haven't forgotten about the adventures of Bucky, Alex and Steve. I'm gonna treat you with the longest chapter I've ever written (it's like 5.3k). I hope you'll like it, I got a bit carried away and my space-nerdiness is showing every now and then.

The chapters will probably come very irregularly from now on but I'll try my best not to have too long gaps between each update. I love you all and — as always — thank you so, so much for your continuous support. I cherish every single reader, every single like and every single comment you leave here :')

Chapter 7

(5.2k)

When Monday rolls around, Bucky faces New York’s chilly morning as he makes his way to work. It’s been only a few days since he got sick, but he feels significantly better now. His nose might still be stuffed and his throat might feel a bit scratchy, but he is mostly fine. No more coughing fits, no more fever. And it’s not like he could say no when his boss called him to check how he was doing and ask if he’d be able to come by before Christmas to do some required maintenance work.

But it’s fine, since the work at the Institute has slowed down, many people have already taken their days off for the Christmas break. It’s calmer than usual and Bucky can do whatever he’s supposed to do in peace.

It's a bit past noon and Bucky's mindlessly staring at the progress bar on his screen and enjoys his coffee. The peace and quiet — excluding his Christmas playlist playing in the background — is disturbed by the ringing of his phone. Slightly startled, Bucky looks around, searching for the device. After a quick glance at the screen, he answers the call.

"Hi, Buck!" Steve says, his voice soft and warm. "I hope I didn't wake you up or anything. Just wanted to check up on you, see how you're feeling."

"That's very sweet of you," Bucky says, his lips spreading in a smile. "And I'm fine, thank you. Currently waiting for the data backup to finish so you've disrupted my staring contest with the progress bar."

Steve doesn't appreciate the joke. Instead, he asks, "You're at work?" After receiving an affirmative hum, he lets out a slightly annoyed huff. "Why? You should still be in bed! Three days ago you've been barely able to get up for longer than 10 minutes. You should still rest, Buck."

"It's been six days ago, thank you very much," Bucky answers. "And I'm fine, Steve. I promise. I wouldn't come if I was still feeling sick, but the fever's been gone for a few days," two but Steve doesn't have to know that, "and I'm not coughing anymore. I'm as fit as a fiddle."

"I can hear you sniffle."

"It's the allergies," Bucky lies and that makes Steve laugh, although a bit exasperated.

"You're horrible," he says. "Bet you haven't even eaten breakfast or drink enough water or like... didn’t even wear a hat even though you’re sick."

"I did have a toast while I ran to catch the train. And now I'm having coffee for lunch. And it’s not even that cold."

An honest-to-God gasp escapes Steve's mouth after he hears that. Of course he's a Mr. Healthy Lifestyle, Bucky shouldn't even be surprised.

"How are you even functioning? You gotta take care of yourself, Buck."

Bucky's heart skips a bit. It's nice to have someone worry about him. Even if he's being dragged in the meantime. And it was nice when Steve took care of him and Alex back when Bucky was too sick to do this. Of course, he has people who do that. Clint, Tasha, Scott -- he can always count on them. But somehow it feels different with Steve. Steve hasn't been around for years like the others, he's known Bucky for just a few months and he still decided to offer his kindness and care. This thought made Bucky's heart do somersaults in his chest.

So did the fact that Steve had a nickname to Bucky's nickname. And he's been using it a lot. Bucky really likes it.

"I'm functioning very well, thank you. And so is Alex, because I'm not as hopeless in taking care of her, luckily," Bucky chuckles. Before Steve can't say anything, Bucky adds, "Besides, I've been able to survive 28 years like this so don't be overdramatic. No need to go all mother hen on me."

"Oh, you think this is overdramatic?" Steve asks, amused. "You clearly don't know what me being overdramatic is, pal. This is just some simple, friendly check-in."

"Okay, now I'm kinda curious," Bucky says. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. "Hypothetically, what would one have to do to see what is Steve Rogers's definition of overdramatic?"

It makes Steve let out another laugh. "Careful what you wish for, Buck." It sounds like Steve wants to say something else but there's some noise in the background and his voice becomes distant and inaudible for a moment. When he comes back, he says with a sigh, "Sorry 'bout that. I need to go back to work. I'm glad you're feeling better but eat a proper meal or I'll hunt you down."

"Oh, so no mother hen anymore, were going straight to threats, okay." Bucky nods to himself and Steve huffs out a laugh. "Thanks for the call, Steve. It's very sweet of you. Have a nice day."

"You, too. Say hi to Alex from me."

"I will. Bye, Steve."

A small smile is still present on Bucky's face when a few hours later he's picking Alex up from school. It grows bigger when she runs towards him down the stairs, her haphazardly wrapped scarf fluttering behind her. He takes a moment to tuck it properly and then takes Alex's backpack from her.

“How was school today?” Bucky asks as they head home.

“Fine. We played soccer and I scored once!” Alex answers proudly. “Even Adrian didn’t and he’s very good. Maya didn’t want to play ‘cause she says girls shouldn’t play soccer.”

“Jokes on her, because we have a women’s national soccer team and they’re the best. They’re the world champions.”

A gasps escapes Alex’s mouth. “Really? That’s so cool! I want to be a soccer player when I grow up!”

“Not a ballerina, anymore?” Bucky asks, with a small smile.

“No, I’m gonna be a ballerina but I’m gonna play soccer sometimes, too. But that’s after I’ll fly to the moon!”

Bucky only nods and grins at her. He wouldn’t be surprised in the least if she actually pulled that off in the future. There weren’t many things that could stop her since she decided upon something.

“How’s space?” Alex asks, swinging their hands back and forth.

Bucky chuckles. It’s a bit of a tradition at this point. He doesn’t really remember how it started but now she never asks him “how’s work” but it’s always “how’s space?”. Personally, Bucky loves it. It makes him feel like he’s doing much cooler things that he really does.

“Pretty boring, sadly,” he admits. “Didn’t have much to do today and many people are on their breaks so no fun space facts to share today. I chatted on the phone with Steve and he wanted me to say hi to you.”

“Oh, is he coming over today?”

Slightly confused with the question, Bucky shakes his head. “No, he’s not. We just talked on the phone. Why?”

“I don’t know, I thought you liked Steve.”

“Well, I do. I like uncle Scott too but we don’t hang out with him every day, either. Steve has his own life and stuff to do, so we shouldn’t bother him all the time.”

Alex makes a small hum and Bucky’s not sure if it’s a dismissive or an agreeing one. After a moment, she adds, “I bet he wouldn’t mind though. He told me he really likes you.”

“What? When?” The revelation almost makes Bucky stop in the middle of the pavement. The biggest surprise is not that Steve likes him, Bucky has figured out this much after all those times they’ve hung out together. What really takes him aback is that apparently his daughter and Steve are having conversations about him when he’s not there.

“When you were sick and Steve went to ballet class with me. I told him he’s cool and I’m happy you have him so you’re not so lonely. And he said he thinks we’re really cool too and that he likes us a lot.”

This time Bucky slows down and eventually stops. There’s a furrow between his brows when he looks at Alex.

“Why would you think I’m lonely, munchkin? I’m not, I have you and mama, uncle Clint and Scott. And now Steve. I’m more than fine.”

“Well… Okay, maybe I didn’t mean lonely. But sometimes when you have a lot to do and you worry and mama or uncle Clint are busy you do this—” Alex furrows her brows and pouts, apparently imitating a worried Bucky “and you’re quiet and worried. And now you smile even more than you did. You smile all the time when you text Steve.”

For a moment, Bucky only gapes at her, not sure how to react. That’s a lot of information coming at once from his 7-year-old daughter.

“I’m— Well, I’m okay, even if I worry sometimes. And I couldn’t be lonely, having such a sweet little munchkin by my side,” he smiles, bopping her on the nose and getting a smile in return. “But thank you for caring about me, sweetheart. I love you to the moon and back.”

“And I love you to Jupiter!” she answers.

“But not back?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, it’s already so far away, it’s enough.”

The conversation with Alex stays in Bucky’s head for the rest of the day. It’s gnawing at him enough that before he goes to bed, he takes out his phone and calls Natasha.

“How’s my favourite co-parent doing?” she greets.

“Do you have any more co-parents?” Bucky asks instead of answering.

“Nope. That’s what makes you my favourite.” Bucky only sighs so she continues. “Did something happen? You’re usually in the mood for late night conversation when something’s on your mind.”

There’s no point in denying it since Natasha would see right through him. “It’s nothing bad. Apparently Alex thinks I’m lonely.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

“What? Tasha, no. I’m not lonely, where did you two get that idea?”

“James, it’s not my fault that you’re an idiot. I know that you have people who love you around. You know that, too. But I know and you also should know — but here’s the ‘idiot’ part — that it might not be enough sometimes. And I’m pretty sure we’ve had a similar conversation like a month ago, so I don’t know why you act all surprised now.”

“Remind me, why did I even call you?”

“Because I am incredible and you value my opinion like no one else’s and also you love me deeply,” Natasha explains dutifully.

Bucky huffs out a laugh as he sits heavily on the side of his bed. His eyes land on the comic from Steve, still laying on Bucky’s bedside table, propped against the lamp. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

“Did our daughter have any more revelations for you?” Natasha asks.

“Well…,” Bucky hesitates for a moment. “She and Steve gossip about me when I’m not around. And apparently I’ve been smiling more lately. But that’s about it.”

Natasha hums but even through the phone Bucky can hear that she’s rather amused.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"I didn't say anything!"

"I can hear you laughing, just say whatever mean thing you're going to say and let's get this over with."

"I'm not gonna say anything mean! I was just wondering when we'd mention Steve in this conversation," she chuckles. "But really. Even your daughter can see that a relationship would be good for you. And that you like Steve a lot. Why not kill two birds with one Steve?"

Bucky sighs. "Because one Steve is also enough to kill this friendship we have."

"Why do you always just automatically assume that things will get fucked? It doesn't have to be the case. I'm serious, you'd better take a grip on yourself and ask him out or I'm back in three days and I'll do this for you. And I'll be as obnoxious and embarrassing for you as I can."

That's actually a pretty horrible threat. She would do that. And it would be both mortifying and horrible to experience for all the involved parties — maybe except Natasha. Bucky laughs, trying to imagine it, but the laugh is short-lived.

"Come on, Nat," Bucky starts after a moment, getting serious. "Steve is great and it's great having him around. But what if I make a move and he's not interested? I don't want to freak him out. Or remember that message I accidentally saw on his computer? He might be seeing someone already or be interested in someone else," Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. "Plus, I know from experience that no matter how much he might seem to like me, a guy with a kid can turn out to be a bit much for people. I don't want to get hurt. I don't want Alex to get hurt. She adores Steve and I don't know if I can risk it."

"But I'm telling you, nobody's getting hurt anytime soon," Natasha chimes in. "You're overthinking, Yasha. Those are all valid concerns but you know what the counterargument is?" She takes a small break but she's not expecting Bucky to respond. "Steve's a good guy. He likes you. He likes Alex. He came to a primary school dance recital after knowing you for like a week just because you and Alex asked him to. Even if he doesn't want a relationship, it doesn’t mean that your friendship has to end. From all you've told me, he doesn't seem like the kind to trample on your hearts like this. Give yourself some time, but promise me you're gonna think about it, okay? And call me if you work yourself up into an anxious mess again, okay?”

“I will try not to be an anxious mess, but I’ll let you know. And I’ll think about it. Thanks, Tasha.” Bucky says.

“I love you no matter what, you dumbfuck. Bye.”

Bucky barely manages to say it back before she hangs up. He shakes his head with a small smile and retrieves his charger cable from behind the bedside table. As he plugs his phone, he accidentally knocks down the drawing from Steve. He picks it up, staring at the soft lines for who-knows-which time. His thumb gently traces the “Get well soon, Buck! x” scribbled at the bottom.

Looking at it, Bucky imagines the moment when Steve was writing it down. In his mind, he sees both Steve and Alexandra at the kitchen table, both leaning over their respective pieces of paper, focused on whatever they’re drawing. They are smiling, chatting about whatever common interest they’ve currently discovered. It’s a very nice picture. Enough to make Bucky’s heart ache.

Because Natasha is right. This is exactly what Bucky craves and what he’s been ignoring for years. That domesticity, that warm feeling one gets when looking at someone they care about. That happiness. He can almost imagine himself joining the picture he’s created in his head, walking over to that table and dropping a kiss first on Alex’s head and then on Steve’s, before he starts preparing the dinner. It feels right.

Maybe it’s not usual to imagine this calm, family life with someone he’s not even in a relationship with. Most people probably think of tons of other things, things that are not so… settled. Not as serious. Sometimes they never reach this part. But Bucky has figured a while ago that it doesn’t really work for him. He already has a family. And this family means everything and more to him. If he ever was to date, he has to make sure that the person would fit into his and Alexandra’s life. He has to skip ahead to make sure it’s worth going through the dates and the passion and all the work a relationship requires, without it all ending in a heartbreak. But Steve…

Steve fits so well into this picture, it scares Bucky a bit. Because this would be even harder to let go, if things didn't work out.

It's pretty clear, now that he allows himself to think about it, that he has some feelings for Steve. Besides the friendliness and sympathy, that is. They're the romantic kind and they're still fresh and shy but they're here. And Bucky has absolutely no clue how to deal with them. It's not even that surprising, he realises. Because how could he not catch feelings for Steve? For the kindest, most thoughtful and most selfless person in the world? For someone with his heart made of gold, who always knows how to make Bucky laugh? Someone who gets so passionate about the things he loves and just as much about the ones he despises? Who cares deeply, laughs with his whole body and who next to all this softness and kindness, is also a stubborn little asshole? Who — and this is the most important of all — adores Alex and whom she adores just as much?

Bucky's heart was a lost cause from the start.

Steve has a lot of qualities that Bucky would fall for if he looked for a partner. And that he accidentally might have fallen for anyway. And that's all without even mentioning that Steve is so ridiculously attractive that it might've skewed Bucky's view on beauty forever.

The point is — Natasha is right. That this could be a good thing. They could be a good thing. But what they have now is already good and Bucky really values this friendship. He isn't sure if pursuing a hypothetical picture in his head is worth putting it at risk. Because he still can't be sure if Steve's interested. For what Bucky knows, he's kind and caring towards all of his friends. It doesn't mean that Bucky and Alex are special.

He can almost hear Natasha's voice in his head, calling him an idiot and yelling that he won't know until he tries. Which is right, since Natasha always is. It doesn't help him stop the — partially excited but mostly terrified — somersaults his insides make. With a small sigh, he puts the drawing on its place by the lamp, flicks off the lights and burrows himself under the covers. He doesn't have to have everything figured out straight away. Letting himself even consider it is a big enough step for now, he decides as he drifts off to sleep.

The next day is Bucky's last day at work before the Christmas break. He doesn't really have much to do, just finishing some last updates and dealing with whatever paperwork he was putting off earlier. Most of the time, he chats with Scott, who has been wandering aimlessly around the institute for the lack of work and eventually landed in Bucky's tiny office. They've been chatting about their Christmas plans — nothing too elaborate for both of them, just simple time at home with their families — and now they started discussing where they should go to grab some lunch. Just as Bucky almost convinced Scott that they should go to this sushi place down the block instead of the Italian place, there's a knock on the door.

Bucky sends his friend a confused look.

"It wasn't me," Scott raises his hands in defence.

"Come in," Bucky calls after another second passes. It's probably someone having a last-minute computer problem or one of his co-workers wanting to drop by with Christmas wishes.

Except, when the door cracks open, Steve's head pokes in. Its hair is messy, its cheeks reddened from the cold and its lips spread in a smile.

"Hi, Buck. And hi Scott, it's nice to see you again," he says. "I'm not interrupting?"

And because Bucky's brain is still processing the fact that for some reason Steve's come to visit him at work, Scott's the one who says, "Not at all, come in."

Steve hesitates for another second. Bucky's brain finally kicks in and he smiles which is apparently the invitation Steve needed, because he finally fully walks into the office.

"Hi, Steve. I didn't expect you here," Bucky says, his smile growing bigger.

"Well, you should. Because after our talk yesterday, I decided to bring you lunch," Steve says, proudly showing a big paper bag in his hand. "I told you you haven't seen shit, and especially not overdramatic me."

This makes Bucky laugh out loud as he shakes his head in disbelief. How is Steve even real?

Scott is watching them with a slightly confused but endeared smile on his face. Before anyone can say anything, he gets up from the chair, slapping his thighs as he does.

"Okay then, I'll leave you to it," he says, walking towards the door.

"There's plenty to share, if you want to join us," Steve offers, because of course he does. His gold-heartedness wouldn't have it any other way.

But Scott only shakes his head at that. "Nah, I'm in the mood for some sushi today. Thanks, though."

"Asshole," Bucky narrows his eyes at Scott. "I hope you'd choke on it."

His friend only laughs at that, "Enjoy your lunch date! It's been great to see you, Steve. Merry Christmas."

"You too, Scott. Say hi to Hope and Cassie from me."

With one last grin aimed at Bucky — and a very pointed look behind Steve's back — Scott leaves them alone. Bucky tries not to dwell on the fact that Steve didn't even bat an eye when Scott called it a lunch date.

"Why should he choke?" Steve asks with a chuckle.

"I've been trying to talk him into going to that sushi place for almost twenty minutes before you came," Bucky sighs and then notices that Steve is still hovering by the door. "Come on, take your coat off and sit down. I can't believe you've brought me lunch."

Steve shrugs off his coat and leaves it on the hanger by the door, next to Bucky's. Today he's wearing a maroon sweater that really suits him and a pair of dark jeans. He pushes his sleeves up before he digs into the bag and Bucky tries not to stare too obviously.

"Someone's got to make sure you eat, since after yesterday I've gotten an idea you're not good at it yourself," Steve says. "Guess it wasn't necessary. Sadly, I don't have sushi but maybe you're in the mood for Thai?"

"Depends on whether you've brought me the dumplings or not," Bucky answers.

Steve laughs in response and takes out one of the boxes and hands it to Bucky. "I did. I also have green curry for you? I hope I remembered correctly that you like it? If not, I'm sorry, we can switch—"

"Steve." Bucky says solemnly, placing his hand on Steve's forearm, to stop him from fumbling with the food. "You not only brought me food but you remembered my favourite after I mentioned it one time. You are an angel. You should hide it better, because you make us mortals look bad."

He's only half joking. Steve does seem like a higher being of some sorts and it's unfair that Bucky's poor heart is supposed to handle it. It doesn't do a great job. Especially not when Steve laughs, his eyes crinkle so much they turn into thin slits.

"And I am the overdramatic one?" Steve asks, unpacking the last things and finally sitting on the chair across from Bucky. He's still smiling but there's a blush colouring his cheeks and creeping down his neck.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to contain a grin but the truth is, he's immensely proud of himself for pulling this reaction out of Steve. To stop himself from saying something stupid, he digs into his food.

"By the way, how did you find me here?" Bucky asks, his tongue sticking out a bit in concentration as he fishes for a dumpling with his chopsticks.

"Clara let me know where your office is, she was very helpful."

Bucky furrows his brows. The surprise makes him drop his dumpling back into the container. "Clara, as in Clara Oswald, our receptionist? How do you know her?"

"I don't. We've chatted for a few minutes and I explained why I'm here and she told me how to get to you."

"Ah, of course it took you about five minutes to charm her and get into a government building just like that," Bucky chuckles.

"I didn't charm anyone! I just politely asked and she helped!"

If it wasn't Steve, Bucky would take it as fake modesty. But the truth is that Steve really seems to be completely oblivious to the effect he has on people. It’s endearing to see him do this.

"So here's when you do your cool space stuff?" Steve asks, changing the subject.

"Here's when the real scientists come searching for help when there's some IT-related issue," Bucky corrects him. "I don't do anything cool. I make sure all the data is where it's supposed to be and that whatever equipment they need is ready and working properly. Or part of it, Scott's an engineer and he takes care of the rest. I do get to read some space facts first hand, though."

"That's still cool space stuff for me," Steve shrugs with a small smile. "What kinds of things are you researching here? Like some particular aspects of outer space, or—?"

Normally Bucky would just give the shortest answer possible. People usually get bored quickly when he starts talking about it. But something in the genuine interest on Steve's face, the way he is looking around the office — which is nothing special, the only nice things are the sky maps and some spaced themed art — makes Bucky think that maybe Steve wouldn't mind getting the longer answer.

"Well, we mostly study the weather. Both the Earth's and the one in the solar system, like the solar winds and magnetic storms, stuff like that. We study exoplanets and try to discover or guess as much as we can about them," Bucky says. "I helped to create simulations that predicted how they could look like and develop, to see if there's a possibility to inhabit them. We did it by basically dumping all the data we have into an elaborate computer programme and waiting to see what comes out." Bucky laughs and Steve does too, but he has the look of utter fascination on his face as he listens. "And all this helps with some more down-to-earth stuff — pun not intended. Like, we've done tons of studies in climate change."

"That's—," Steve starts when he makes sure that Bucky's done. "All of this sounds incredible. And you're a part of all those amazing things, how great is that?"

Bucky feels that his cheeks start to burn. There's another reason he usually sticks with the short answer. As much as he's proud to be working here and as much as he loves it, the impostor in him always makes sure that he understands the difference between his work and the actual research, analysis and all the heavy lifting that the astronomers do. He helps, of course he does. He does a great job at it, but there's still a difference. And such praise usually makes him squirm uncomfortably.

"And don't even try to get all modest with me again," Steve warns as if he's been reading Bucky's mind. "You've said that you don't do cool space stuff and then admitted that you've helped to create a program to imagine how exoplanets can look and change. So I know you're full of bullshit."

Steve raises an eyebrow in what's supposed to be an unimpressed look but it's not even close. The smile and the curious, bright eyes that are stating right at Bucky are destroying the effect. The blush on Bucky's cheeks only deepens, especially as Steve adds. "I've been impressed before but— Wow. Really, you guys are doing such incredible things here, I can’t wrap my head around it."

"We really do," Bucky agrees, eventually.

The beaming smile Steve sends him feels like a reward Bucky didn't know he deserves.

"So you've always liked space? Or was it an accident that brought you here?" Steve asks.

"No, I've always loved it. It's just so fascinating and there's always so much more to learn about it," Bucky doesn't even try to hide his excitement. "I've never fully understood all the science behind it but I loved staring at the sky, trying to find all those constellations and planets and galaxies. I've figured a way to somehow connect it to what I was good at and make it my job. Which is amazing. But now I mostly stare at the computer screen instead of the stars. "

He doesn't want to sound ungrateful but he must admit that it does kill some of the fun. But not even the astronomers simply state up at the sky to admire the view.

Steve only nods in response. "Alex mentioned that you guys went on a trip out of town to watch the stars. It must've been great."

"We did! It was like… almost 2 years ago, I think? I borrowed one of those fancy telescopes they have here. I needed to pick Alex up every time, cause she was too small to reach it," Bucky laughs as he brings out the memories. "It was fun, we should do that again, sometime. But I don't have much time now, so it’ll have to wait."

"It does sound great," Steve smiles that soft smile again. "I hope you'd find some time as it gets warm enough for such trips. I bet Alex would be delighted."

"Yeah. I'll let you know if that happens, in case you'd like to join," Bucky says before he can think better of it.

There's more of the childlike excitement on Steve's face as Bucky mentions it so maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea.

An actual bad idea comes out of Bucky's mouth a bit later, just as Steve is getting ready to head out. Bucky's lunch break is long gone and forgotten, because it's been two hours that Steve spent here. He apologises for staying so long and the assurances that Bucky didn't have any more work to do doesn't help.

"I'm sorry for taking your mind away from your responsibilities, but it was great spending time with you," Steve says.

So of course, because Bucky's heart doesn't get any chance to regroup, he doesn't have time to think before he blurts out. "We should have dinner together."

It's certainly not something Steve was expecting to hear. He just stares at Bucky. Before he has a chance to say anything, Bucky continues, "I mean. You should come for dinner. Clint and Nat are always around for a dinner, sometime between Christmas and New Year's. If you don't have any plans, it would be great if you came. But it's okay if you can't or don't want to."

Another moment passes and Bucky tries not to squirm under Steve's gaze. Luckily, Steve finally blinks and smiles as he says, "No, Buck, of course I'd love to come! I don't have any particular plans, will probably hang out with Sam for most of the break but I'll have plenty of time."

"You could take Sam with you," Bucky adds. He desperately tries to regain the control of his own mouth. "It'd be great to finally meet him."

"I'll let him know, I bet he’d be happy to come, too. Thanks again for the invite," Steve smiles as he cracks open the door. With a little wave, he walks out of the office. "Bye, Buck. Have a nice day."

"You too, Steve," Bucky says to the already closing door.

When Steve's gone, Bucky exhales heavily through his mouth as he leans back in his chair. Both of his hands go up to thread through his hair, tugging at it lightly.

Apparently, he has a dinner to prepare.

taglist: @steverrogers @till-the-end-of-the-line-punk @buckyshappyending

#where i'm meant to be #stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stevebucky fic #stevebucky fanfiction #stucky fanfitction #chapter 7 #my wrtiting #wimtb #sorry it took me so long!#i really hope you'll like it :')

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