#it’s fun to hate-consume something once in a while I think and nothing is better to release work related stress

[writerfae]

Why do I even worry about having to write fight scenes? I’ll just do it like Stephenie Meyer did in Twilight and just let Aiden faint before the action happens

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part five❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?

♡ Warnings: self hate, mentions of parent death/family death, panic attack, heavy angst, fluff, literally sobbing i love them

Part 6

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

It was almost becoming a mantra, reminding himself daily that he needed to keep things strictly professional. He just didn’t realize how hard it would be. You were so easy to be around, it was a different change of pace with you, he felt he could actually think— slow his mind down around you.

He had tried to digest the thought many times.

I could be her friend, nothing more.

Would it be unprofessional though? He tries to think how Pierce would react to that. He feels completely and utterly confused— the devil and angel on his shoulders battling constantly.

Even then, he was already a bad friend— if that. He was keeping something from you— something extreme. He had caught himself thinking of where you could be in the house— the part of him deep down wanting to tell you. He knew he should, but he knew that’s not what Pierce wanted. If anything, Bucky didn’t want to mess anything up— or he’d never see you again. The thought shouldn’t of scared him as much as it did, but he didn’t like it.

That’s where he found himself in the bathroom of his room, staring into his own eyes through the reflection. He had showered and caught himself trying to find a nice shirt amongst his clothes— immediately he stopped. He had to take a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself how ridiculous he was being.

It had been so long since he actually cared about his appearance. But as he was scanning every line and wrinkle on his face in the mirror— he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt insecure, and for once it wasn’t about his arm. His mind was consumed with the thought if he was good enough. While he felt overwhelmed, because he had never worried about such a thing. Well, in awhile at least.

You had kept yourself busy in the library for most of the day, and while you looked to be buried into the books— your thoughts were of him. You couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that his words gave you— his want to get to know you better. Maybe, just maybe— he wanted to be your friend.

Just as you were about to get up and leave to seek out Bucky, you heard the sound of the library doors opening. A smile worked its way onto your face, excited to see him— though you had just seen him not that long ago.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the space, and soon revealed a handsome looking Bucky. Your mouth hung slightly open, his appearance looking sharper than usual. He was wearing his classic black shirt, and had the black leather jacket over��� along with his jeans that hugged him just right in all the areas. He wasn’t dressed all that different, so why did he look so good.

You cleared your throat and broke your stare— yes he looked good. But you shouldn’t stare.

“You look great James, I wish I would’ve put something better on.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts— along with your different colored socks.

Bucky on the other hand, thought you looked fine. He was pretty sure you could wear pretty much anything and look good in it. He also shook off your compliment, thinking you were just being sweet like you always were.

“You look fine, (Y/n).” He assured you.

Truthfully, standing here in front of you now— Bucky wants nothing more than to go back upstairs, choosing to avoid getting to know you better. He wasn’t sure why his walls were coming down so easily, but he hated it. Oh he hated it— he hated you.

“So…” You started, walking back to your seat. Bucky followed after and took his spot from the nights before. “I know this kinda takes the fun out of this but— I had a list of questions.”

Bucky shook his head but chuckled lowly, not surprised at all.

“Of course you do.” He acknowledged, and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

“Uh— but there are rules! I made them up of course— but there aren’t many.” You rushed out, sitting crisscrossed in your seat.

Bucky exhaled annoyed, but couldn’t really argue otherwise. This was his idea. Was it to distract you from going out? Yes. But a part of him really did want to get to know you better.

“Alright, what’s the rules?” He asked, crossing his leg over the other— leaning back in his seat.

“Okay the first one— you have to answer the question that’s asked, no matter what.” You told him, watching him raise his eyebrows.

“Easy.”

You giggled, remembering how fast the conversation ended last time because he didn’t want to answer. This would be harder than he thought— but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

“Second rule— Can’t ask dumb questions.” You told him, and he chuckled again.

“That’s the second rule?” He chuckled, and you nodded your head.

“Yup.” You confirmed, “Okay— who should go first?”

You were ready to jump right into it, while Bucky was still thinking about your rules— rethinking his decision to do this.

“Why don’t you start doll, since you apparently have a list.” He spoke sarcastically, and you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname.

He never called you that before, and you didn’t know what to think of it.

“Um… okay yeah,” You thought about your first question, deciding to go easy on him at first, “What’s something you like to do on your free time?”

Bucky squinted his eyes, expecting a more personal question from you. He also had to think for a second— what did he like to do? He used to have hobbies at one time, but he couldn’t recall any in the moment. He felt he was a pretty boring person. There was one thing.

“I like to read sometimes.” He answered, and you smiled at that.

“Really? You don’t seem to spend a lot of time in the library for someone who likes to read.” You joked— knowing he was rather busy with his job as a bodyguard.

“Well, if I had free time— I’d probably be here.” He pointed out, slowly melting into his seat, his muscles relaxing against the couch.

“Okay your turn.” You told him.

Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he as well had a list of questions for you. Things he was dying to know about you.

“What do you want to do in the future?” He asked, and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

“What’s your dream job— like, what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Besides read.” He added at the end, making you giggle.

You thought about your answer for a moment, smiling to yourself when you came up with one.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever stay in one spot, there’s so much I want to do. But whatever happens, I wanna volunteer places. I want to help people— help them heal, cope. I just wanna do good.” You explained happily.

Bucky was not surprised by your answer by the slightest— of course you wanted to be helpful. It only made sense with your bubbly personality. He cleared his throat, fighting down a smile.

“Your turn again.”

You nodded and took a second to think of a question again, closing your eyes in thought. An idea popped into your head and you were hesitant about it. Last time you’d brought it up— he left.

“What’s your family like?” You asked anyway, keeping your voice soft in hopes he’d feel more comfortable.

Bucky tensed immediately and just glared at you for a second. His jaw clenched, and his eyes squinted at you. He was annoyed at you pestering him with this question— he’d answer every single one but this one. He’d play dirty if you were.

“My family… isn’t around anymore.” He answered quietly, his anger lacing his words.

His tone had you swallowing nervously, and deep down you regretted asking him. You didn’t mean any harm by the question, and you immediately felt bad. Your heart hurt for him, the way he didn’t have a family.

“I— James I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t o—”

You tried to apologize but got cut off.

“My turn.” He interrupted, sitting up in his seat now. His whole body tense again, his relaxed muscles no more. “Why does your Father hate you?”

He couldn’t stop himself from letting the words out, but as soon as they passed his lips— he was ashamed of himself. His face softened immediately at your face dropping, the way your fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the hem of your shirt.

You were shocked— at a loss for words. You probably deserved his anger, but you weren’t expecting such a harsh question. You felt your chest tighten, and suddenly you weren’t in denial anymore. Everything you’d ever thought— the nights you wondered if your Father really did hate you. You pushed away with a laugh, knowing he could never. But now as someone else witnessed it, and pointed it out. It ought to be true— and you felt sick.

“Um… He’s just having a h-hard time with the passing of my…” You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighter than usual. “Hard time with my mothers passing is all.”

You repeated from the first day meeting him. Your head pounded— your ears thumping loudly. Your fingers were numb and you felt like you couldn’t swallow.

Were you having an allergic reaction to something?

You tried to take another deep breath and felt your chest stop expanding. Your eyes widened in panic for a second.

Bucky felt so shitty— he couldn’t control himself for a simple question. The fact that you had answered it anyway broke his heart. He watched as your eyes darted around, in search of help. The way he could start to hear your breathing— the way you were beginning to wheeze.

“(Y/n), you ok—”

“Excuse m-me for a s-second.” You rushed out, stumbling out of your chair and towards the library doors.

Bucky was concerned for you, standing up immediately to go follow you. He was so ashamed of himself, angry that he let himself lose control like that. He had sensitive topics that just brought up a defensive side in him. The image of your face as soon as he had said the words was burned into his brain. You didn’t deserve that— you had been nothing be sweet since you two had met.

Making it up the stairs, he started down the hallway— body tensing in alert at the sight of you sitting up against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, kneeling down to your curled up form, scanning over you for injuries.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked frantic, he noticed your hand clutching the area above your heart.

You shook your head, but seemed confused— and only panicked more when you couldn’t get the words out right away.

“I c-can’t breathe!” You wheezed out, your hand not clutching your chest— reaching out to grab onto Bucky.

You held onto him like he was your lifeline.

“I-I think I’m having a-an allergic reaction.” You panted, fisting Bucky’s sleeve in panic.

Bucky didn’t know it was possible for his heart to break anymore— but he swore he heard the cracking sound. He felt it drop to his stomach, his own throat tightening with emotions. You were having a panic attack— and it was because of him. You had no idea, and yet here you were still clinging onto him when he was the cause of it all. He was disgusted with himself.

“(Y/n)— you’re not having an allergic reaction. You’re having a panic attack.” He explained to you clearly, holding onto your shoulders, trying to bring you comfort.

You nodded in understanding, feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen to the brain. Tears began to escape your eyes, you felt helpless— you felt like you were dying.

“James…” You whimpered, “I’m s-scared!”

Again, he felt his non existent heart break again— falling into his stomach. He felt sick watching this go down, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a nightmare.

He had experience with panic attacks and luckily knew what to do— he just couldn’t get over the fact that he caused it.

He grabbed your hand fisting his sleeve and put it above his heart. You lifted your flushed face, your bloodshot eyes watching your hand. You could feel the strong thump of his heartbeat, the feeling soothing against your palm.

“I want you to try and breathe with me, okay? I want you to match my heartbeat. You feel it?” He asked you softly, his voice gentle like honey.

You nodded your head, trying to focus on slowing your breathing— stop your chaotic mind from spiraling.

“In… and out— In… and out.” He started breathing, and you struggled to match him at first, but as your eyes met with his— you felt your heartbeat start to match his rhythm.

His eyes were comforting and warm. You felt safe in his hold— and you could already start to feel your everything relaxing.

“Good, just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you— you’re gonna be okay.” He assured you, rubbing your shoulders up and down soothingly.

You knew you’d be risking it, but you slowly moved forward— wrapping your arms around his bulky frame.

Bucky tensed up at first, a part of him knowing he should push you away— this wasn’t professional. But he knew he couldn’t— not after what he did. He relaxed, and wrapped his arms hesitantly around your back, hugging you tight against him. He could feel your quick heartbeat thumping competitively against his. He could feel your breath fanning his neck— as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck.

He hadn’t felt such affection in so long— he had missed how much he craved the protection— the security he felt being in someone’s arms.

Now, in Bucky’s hold— you felt at peace. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. You still trusted him with your life.

“Doll,” You smiled weakly into his neck, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t of asked you that— I’m an asshole.”

You held onto him tighter— enjoying the embrace while you had it. You were sure it would never happen again.

“It’s okay James, I’m sorry too.” You weakly replied, your body drained of energy. “Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”

He wanted to scoff. You wanted to thank him for helping you out of a mess that he caused. You had the right to scream, punch, kick him. But he knew you’d never do that— and that’s what killed him.

He didn’t know how to respond to your thanks, and stayed silent instead. Holding onto you— never intending to let go until you did first.

“I’m tired James.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I’ve got you doll.” He whispered, easily standing with you in his arms.

He slowly and carefully carried you to your room, setting you down gently onto your bed. He was having déjà vu— memories of when he first carried you to bed that one night.

He lifted the covers, tucking you in. He watched you for a second, examining your face like you were a piece of art. His eyes danced all the way from your chin— passed your lips— to your eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. You sighed and leaned into his touch, and this time— he didn’t fight the smile down. He gazed down at you warmly, genuinely smiling for the first time in awhile.

“Stay with me.” You mumbled sleepily, just as you had wanted to that one night.

Bucky took a deep breath, staring down at you with sudden tenderness. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.

“Okay.” He told you, watching you give a small smile in your sleep. Snuggling your face into the pillow.

Although both of you didn’t really get to scratch off every question of each others list— you both felt more connected after today. You just wanted someone, someone constant in your life. Bucky needed more light in his life— like you.

You both needed each other more than you realized.

🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍

TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells @loki-is-loved @yujyujj @wolfstarrrr @distinguishedbluebirdtriumph @tatianah26 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @lethallyprotected @sadboiabby @ziatracy @doveromanoff @whattheduckisupkyle @buckysgirl85 @etherealdisneyvillainness @doctorlilo @torntaltos @raging-panda @livingoffsavvyillusions @lmao-liz @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @toriluvsfics

@baconeggndcheez @nialiuwanderlust @nabiiturner @nickangel13 @queerqueenlynn @memyselfandi19 @mentalidrainedfangirl @wattpaduser200 @obsessedbutnotblessed @iris-shihabi @thecubanator2 @chloe-skywalker @oatballsoffury @bbiaa420 @vanillascreams @athenabarnes @the-universe-is-complicated @marvel-fandom23 @ilovecliches @frankcastlesbabe @aizawa-emma @shamelesssuitshark @buckyb-stan @pampeop @bruher @reading-n-writin @lenavonschweetz @khypods @himikotoga101 @stefansring @iateall-yourcookies @giftedyoungster3000 @itsmytimetoodream @im-a-marvel-ous-hoe @wintermischief @companionjones @meetmeatyourworst @sebstanwhore @xforeveralonerxx @marziwritesfic @hidden-treasures21 @avenirectioner

@hvnnibvni @chipilerendi @buckylovu @clean-and-claire @broadwaybabe18 @billy-reads @natashassandwich @potatothots @char112244 @totallynotnotsukie @theconstantsidekick @unkownkii @missaprilt23 @dreamcatchernightsky @globetrotter28 @ilovewriting06 @leabunny @samsgirl93

[byechristopher]

⠀

I hate you, too [pt.2].

– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT & ANGST.

PART ONE.

Author's note: HI, I finally wrote it. I originally made a poll but, the answer was pretty clear so, here it is. It was requested, by the way! I'll reply to the message because I forgot to put it here, thanks for the request, dear. Side note, I was listening to Never Lose Me – Flo Mili (during the smut part, obvi). Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: filthy smut, super super long, didn't proofread, rough smut, car sex, angst. That's pretty much it. Minors dni. Thank you.

It's been a week since the party I attended, the one where I encountered him.

My mind has been consumed by reflections on that night, so much that I haven't been able to do anything else other than that, except for work. While I assume he might not have dwelled on it, I can't help but wonder if he thinks about me – about the way we touched, the way I looked at him when he prepared to leave. When I didn't want him to leave.

I shake my head, realizing I can't continue this self-inflicted struggle. Accepting the ongoing intimacy with my ex was challenging enough, let alone having feelings that linger inside me, still to this day. I almost gave in that day, when I saw something in his eyes, something that said he still cared about me – mending my dress, that sweet kiss, his declaration of hatred, a reminder of our past. That we once hated each other and that's why we weren't together anymore. Or so we thought.

Deciding that just sitting here, mopping around and feeling sorry for myself isn't going to help at all, I get up determined to go outside and have some fun. No house parties, no hosts, no Chris, no nothing.

My friends are already up for it (and I love them for it), because it only takes ten minutes for them to come over so we can get all dolled up together. It's a few minutes past midnight and we're finally ready (okay, we did have a few pre-drinks then and there), so we immediately call a cab. We reach our destination just a few minutes later and after greeting the girl that was at the entrance of the club, she lets us in and we get lost in the crowd.

You know how it goes; flashing lights everywhere, people kissing and drinking, almost pitch black all around. Looks like clubs aren't that different from house parties after all. A group of friends offers to buy us drinks, and who are we to say no (there's no way we're dancing with any of them, but it's fine) – we're already having the time of our lives, we're drinking, we look amazing, everything seems possible.

Except for the impossible.

Because there's no fucking way Chris happens to be in this same club; I completely lose the ground beneath my feet. I want to turn my back to him, I really do. But at the same time I want him to see me again. I want to see him again.

My friends notice where I'm looking and they know better than to say anything – so they just leave me be. Chris notices me as well and everything stops. Not again. I hope he doesn't come here but deep down I'm praying he does.

"Never had a bitch like me in your life.."

What is it with me, Chris and songs that we both used to like (and have sex while listening to them)? He's looking at me, and I can feel his intense gaze once again. As he drinks something, for a moment, I wish I could see this sight up close, look how his tongue touches the glass. Fucking hell.

Me and my girlfriends sway to the music, letting every beat ignite a playful dance between us. As we keep each other close, the music wraps around us, and for a moment I forget about him. Lost in the rhythm, we surrender to the dance, singing along.

He's here. Well fuck.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me closer to him – I can't help but roll my eyes, turning around to look into his blue ones, holding my own drink close to me.

"How dare you interrupt my dance?" I yell in his ear so he can hear and he smiles.

"I stayed to watch you for a bit before I approached and interrupted your dance. You were just too irresistible, damn." as usual, he has a big smirk on his face and I just want to slap it off his face.

His arm stays on my waist and I can't find the strength to push it away – his hand roams around my naked back thanks to my dress, not that I'm complaining. He leans in to wrap his lips around my straw, tasting my drink while looking at me.

"Tastes much better with that lipstick you're wearing.." he teases and licks his lips, "..bet you love it even more when it's around my dick." his gaze darkens and my legs shake a little.

"What a shame you'll never see it on you ever again." I give him a sarcastic smile and push him gently with one hand.

"You sure about that?" his lips are touching my ear and again, I hate myself for letting him have such an effect on me.

"Yes. I don't like sharing my lipsticks." I raise a challenging eyebrow, indirectly asking him if he's been fucking anyone else besides me – because if that's the case, I feel like I will completely lose myself.

"Mhmm.. you're already thinking about other girls sucking my dick?" he tilts his head with an innocent-like look on his face, "..jealous about it?" his thumb rubs my bottom lip and his smile returns.

My blood is boiling to say the least, but I know him way better than to show that. So instead, I smile, "I don't have time to think about your dick, baby. Someone else makes sure I don't." take that.

No one. Absolutely no one can make me stop thinking about him in general but I had to say something. Otherwise I might just start crying.

Something shifts in his eyes and I internally high-five myself for achieving to make him jealous once again. He leaves. What? He literally just lets me go and goes back to where his friend group is, turns his back on me and everything. Well, shit.

I'm more than jealous but I want him way more than our egoistic bullshit; I'm shameless, I want him.

I move swiftly through the crowd, desperately trying to find him before i change my mind – and I do find him. He doesn't really expect to see me there but he does and he smiles. I quickly wrap my fingers around his wrist this time, dragging him with me like he did in that house party the previous week. Safely, I lead us out of the club, making sure to not answer any of his questions.

Once he realises that I'm not speaking to him until we reach the car, he stops talking and simply follows me. We finally get into the car and I start the engine.

"Do you realise how crazy that was?" he finally says, he really didn't expect me to just do that.

"I thought you liked crazy." I smirk this time and he huffs, licking his lips and leaning back against the passenger seat, making himself comfortable.

Once I make sure we're somewhere where no one will be able to see us, I immediately stop the car, lock it and I practically jump on him, straddling his thighs. His hands immediately grab my hips, his mouth hungry, searching for my lips and his eyes even hungrier.

"You drive me fucking crazy." he almost growls as he quickly rides up my dress, exposing the rest of my thighs and panties.

I undo his shirt with shaky fingers, leaving it on but making sure I have access to his naked body. I almost attack his skin with hungry kisses and love bites as he keeps himself occupied with my butt, kneading and smacking the skin every now and then.

I wrap my lips around his nipple and now my lipstick is long gone – his moans fill the car, fogging up the windows as I continue sucking on his sensitive nipple. He pushes my panties to the side from behind, his finger traveling from my ass to my pussy, rubbing the entrance and collecting all of the juices. I can't help but moan against his skin. With his free hand, he grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging at it to make my head fall back – with my neck now exposed, he finds the opportunity to attack it with his kisses and bites. In the meantime, I unbuckle his belt, moaning every time his teeth sink into my sensitive skin.

His finger keeps teasing my wet entrance, but his other hand finally lets go of my hair and I immediately lean in to kiss his lips hungrily. As I sit up as much as I can, I push his pants down with a bit of his help, doing the same with his boxers as I start rubbing his cock.

"You must be very loyal to that other guy, hm?" he chuckles and wraps his hand around my throat.

"Your other girlfriends haven't been able to satisfy you, it seems. You're about to cum already..." I click my tongue, completely avoiding what he said to me, "..either that, or you're still obsessed with me.." I whisper, grinding down on his dick as he keeps grabbing me by the throat, "do you think they'd like that?"

He chuckles, moaning as soon as he feels the warmth and the wetness of my pussy, "do you think your little bitch will like it when he sees the marks I left for him?" he whispers, tightening the grip around my throat.

I groan, realising my neck must be all bruised up already. This fucking asshole.

Grabbing his dick again, I lower myself down on it as we both moan in unison – he immediately hugs me, his warm fingers digging into the skin of my back as I start to finally move.

"Fucking hell.." he whispers, his face buried in my neck as his hands cup my ass cheeks, guiding me up and down on his cock.

"Fuck.. Chris.." I moan loudly, one hand around him and the other one pressing against the car window, leaving a mark behind.

"Baby.. like that.." he mutters and I can feel myself clenching around him as soon as he calls me that.

He takes my breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently and kissing them with every chance he gets. I can feel him throbbing and I know it is almost time.

He immediately licks his fingers and presses them on my clit, making me stop my movements and tremble, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

"Don't stop. Keep going." he orders and I do exactly that. My burning thighs don't make it easy, especially in his goddamn car, but I don't care. As soon as I start moving up and down his dick again, his fingers start moving.

"Chris.. Chris, please.." I moan, gasping every time he picks up the pace. My breasts bounce with every movement, both of my hands now are on his shoulders supporting myself as I feel myself getting closer and closer.

"I wanna feel it, cum on me." he moans and his touch on my clit becomes as gentle as it can, and that's when I lose it. Once I come down from my high, he pulls out and cums all over my belly, almost shouting my name as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips my hips so hard that I'm sure it'll leave bruises behind.

It takes a while for me to start breathing normal again – and at the same time, I was afraid of what was going to happen when all of this stopped. But for now, I am trying to live in the moment as much as I can; he holds me in his arms tightly, I can feel his heartbeat and his breath tickling my hair, and I can swear I feel his fingertips caressing my back, drawing invisible circles on the skin.

I almost want to cry as he holds me close, I am so overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I still had in me, that my hands start shaking.

"There's no one else. Only you." I whisper against his shoulder, my cheek pressed against it.

He takes a moment to respond, but he eventually does, "no other lipsticks for me either. Only yours." he whispers back.

This is what happens all the time ever since we parted ways – I call him, we have sex. He sees me outside, we have sex. We are ruthless, merciless, ready to tear each other apart without thinking of the consequences. So when we're finished, and all the hatred and lust is gone, what's left is two vulnerable, broken hearts and a love for each other that once existed.

I don't know how to react at his words. I feel relieved but I also feel angry, I feel hurt. Everything all at once.

"Come on." he says and makes me lean back against the dashboard. He grabs some baby wipes he keeps in his car and starts cleaning up my belly, my thighs, everywhere. He cleans himself up as well and throws them away in the little bin inside the car. He fixes my panties and my dress as well (as much as he can).

He tries to make me get up, but I stay in place. He looks at me but I don't move an inch, "can I ask you something?" I muster up the courage to ask.

"What is it?" he sighs, he knows something heavy is coming.

"Why are you so cold all the time?" he furrows his eyebrows at my question, and he looks like he is about to say a million reasons why what I just asked was stupid, "..so cold, playing it cool all the time, as if nothing happened." I say and I almost regret it.

"Are you fucking serious? What did you expect? You broke up with me, yet you still wanna have sex with me. Do you want me to be all lovey-dovey with you?" he narrows his eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek.

He's correct – what did I really expect? I vividly recall the day I ended our relationship; he was devastated, it was like something shifted within us since then. I was devastated, too. But the decision to break up felt necessary and inevitable. Our hectic schedules kept us apart for days on end. And being the jealous toxic assholes that we both are, this never ended well; it drove me nuts, I had to end it. However, ending the relationship doesn't mean my love for him ceased; on the contrary, I'll never stop loving him. And as for the sex.. well, it's pretty self-explanatory; he's the only one who knows what I like and what I don't. His touch is the only thing I knew for years. And that was the only way I could be close to him. I might've regretted that decision. Might've.

"No. But I would at least expect you to be respectful towards me, we were together for so long." I look down at my trembling fingers, there's pain in my voice.

"Yeah, well, do you know what else would be respectful? You, owning up to the decision you fucking made for the both of us." he's staring into my eyes, "when you break up with someone, especially when you've been with them for a long ass time, you don't go back to them. No matter what the situation is. That's what's respectful. But can you handle that?"

I don't know what to say. And I hate the fact that he's right – I know I fucked up.

"I don't think I can handle that, no." I say truthfully, my voice feels small and now I feel small too, in front of him.

"Yeah, well, that's your fucking problem now." he leans back against the passenger seat and clears his throat.

"Why do you come back?" I whisper, fearing the answer.

"You said it yourself that day. It's the only way to have you at the moment. And I'm taking it." now there's pain in his voice, "but do you realise how toxic that is? That's draining us way more than our schedule did." he runs his fingers through his hair and looks out of the window.

"So what are we supposed to do?" I ask. I feel so dumb.

"As I said. Own up to your decision. I never wanted to break up with you, which is why I never did. You should be the one who stops any contact between us. Not me. If I could, I would, trust me on this one." there's an emptiness in his eyes that I can not quite comprehend what it means. It doesn't let me see through him like I usually do.

"Chris.. damn it, I can't." I whisper, tears fill up my eyes but he's not having any of it.

"No, fuck off. You're fucking selfish." he's getting angry now, the vein in his neck is popping out, hands turning into fists and his knuckles turning white.

Fuck. It seems like everything I say is wrong. I want to just scream and cry and run away.

"I am not selfish, Chris. I am stupid.." I can't stop the tears that fill up my eyes, "..I never wanted to end things with you, I promise. I thought that.. that was the only way for us to calm the fuck down.. we were jealous, and crazy, and toxic." I let my hands fall on his lap.

"And what we're doing now is not toxic? How do you think I feel coming back to you after you broke up with me, just so we can fuck and tell each other we hate each other?" his jaw is clenched and his eyes are turning lighter. He's about to cry.

"I am sorry, Chris. I cannot imagine that, no.. I just.. I made a mistake.. and I am deeply sorry. I am paying for it as well.. this whole time, I really thought you just didn't care.. otherwise I would've made a move way sooner." I explain as much as I can, I am fully crying now.

He's holding back as much as he can – he collects me in his arms for yet another comforting hug when he notices I practically can't breathe, "first of all, breathe for me, okay? I need you to be calm so we can solve this." he rubs my back soothingly and my heart almost jumps out of my chest, because that's exactly who I fell in love with. That's the Chris I knew.

He does make me calm down way faster than I thought. I wipe away my tears and collect a single tear that left his eye as well.

"I love you. I always will." I whisper, cupping his cheeks.

"You know I love you too." his voice is very low, "I cannot stop loving you."

"Do you want to try again?" I whisper timidly, "I will try my best to make you trust me again." I say and I mean it.

"Pretty girl.." he mumbles, grabbing my chin gently, caressing it, "..you better try your hardest, hm?" he whispers and I nod like a little kid, "I promise to make more time for us, we deserve it. You deserve it."

⠀

⠀

⠀

[elryuse]

Would you mind writing a Yandere CL oneshot?

DANGEROUS GAME

YANDERE CL X MALE READER

In the glitzy world of K-pop, CL was a rising star, adored by fans for her angelic voice and captivating performances. Yet, behind her radiant smile lay a dark obsession that consumed her every waking moment.

Her fixation? A young trainee named Y/n, whose raw talent and innocent charm had caught her eye from the moment he stepped into the company.

"Annyeonghaseyo... I'm Park Y/n...please train me well CL sunbae".

"Oh wow... You look young.. How old are you"?

"Uhmm this year I'll be 19 years old".

"Wow that is really impressive Y/n".

"Thanks a lot Sunbae.. I promise I will train hard and debut with success".

"Well you should start training now".

"Of course sunbaee".

At first, CL was merely assigned to mentor him, guiding him through his rigorous training regimen with patience and encouragement.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, CL found herself drawn to Y/n in ways she couldn't comprehend. His shy smile, his earnest dedication to his craft, ignited a fire within her that she couldn't extinguish.

"Y/n, I think you're training too hard.. You look really tired.. Why don't you rest for a while hmm? Let's eat something nice".

"I don't really think, I should do that Sunbae.. I mean.. Jisoo Sunbae and Jennie sunbae gonna kill me if I do that".

"Bsh... They won't know. Cmon.. I'll treat you to some nice Korean Barbeque".

"W-well.. If it's a Korean Barbeque.... Fine.. I'll go".

"See that wasn't that hard right"?

Obsession slowly morphed into infatuation, and infatuation into love. CL's every thought revolved around Jae, her desire to possess him consuming her every waking moment. She couldn't bear the thought of him belonging to anyone else but her.

"Y/n, Do you want to eat with me.. I'm free at 9 tonight".

"I can't Sunbae.. Jennie Noona and Lisa Noona is asking me out to have some tteokbokki".

"Wait what!? Jennie? Lisa? Why are you going out with them"?

"Well they said, They were sorry for treating me pretty harshly.. So yeah.. Free Tteokbokki I guess.. Hehe".

"But what about me? I want to eat with you too".

"Aww sunbae we can do it tomorrow right".

"Still.. I hate it".

"Calm down Sunbae.. You're not my GF... I'll text you later okay.. ".

"Wait.. Y/n".

Determined to make Y/n hers, CL resorted to drastic measures. She sabotaged his interactions with other trainees, spreading rumors and planting seeds of doubt to isolate him from the outside world. She showered him with gifts and attention, manipulating his emotions until he became utterly dependent on her.

"What Are you doing here Sunbae... You're bothering my Training session".

"We need to go.. We've been missing out on all the fun lately.. ".

"Sunbae.. I need to focus.. I'm about to debut.. Stop acting like my GF... Cause we're not dating".

"..... ".

"Look... We can do it later Sunbae.. Just not right now".

"Why? Why can't we do it.. Yet you always did it with the others.. Jennie... Lisa.. Rosé... Why... Tell me why.. Why do you pick them more than me... I cared for you the most.. ".

"Sunbae.. They're just my sunbae too. Just like you too".

".... So that's it? After I gave you so much"??

"Look I'm sorry.. But I'm busy Sunbae.. ".

"You're playing a dangerous game Park Y/n....you better watch out.. ".

But as her obsession deepened, so did her desperation. CL's once bright facade began to crack, revealing the darkness that lurked beneath. She would stop at nothing to make Y/n hers, even if it meant destroying everything and everyone in her path.

As CL's grip on reality slipped further, Y/n began to sense the danger that surrounded him. But by then, it was too late. Trapped in CL's web of obsession, he could only watch helplessly as she descended into madness, her love transforming into something far more sinister.

In the end, CL's love for Y/n would consume them both, leaving behind nothing but a trail of broken hearts and shattered dreams. For in the twisted world of idols and trainees, sometimes love was the deadliest melody of all.

"I'm Gonna Kill you... If I can't have you. You're mine Y/n...I've known you longer than all of this whore...".

THE END

[girl8890]

JK | Hieros Gamos (II)

BTS ML | Mood Board

Summary: After a fight with Jungkook that leaves y/n even more confused than before, one last argument with her family has her running to find her own answers. One of those answers, was already waiting at the door for her. 

Paring: God!Thanatos!Jungkook x Goddess!reader

Genre: greek gods!au, soulmate!au, smut, angst, some fluff 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: family arguments, confused reader, running away, mentions of past war/murder, secrets reveled, flirting, past masturbation mentioned, inexperienced/virgin!reader, heavy petting, dry humping, thigh riding, clothed sex, horny jk, kinda dom!jk, nipple play, jk is just so much in loveeee~

A/N: This part is much longer than part 1, so sit back and get comfy! I’m really getting into this mini-series now, and this part is a doozy. Secretes are revealed, connections are strengthened as well as broken, and I may have hinted at what y/n’s powers actually are… hehe. Enjoy part 2! 

Part I | Part III

。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。

Time has always been different for gods. A year for mortals is a blink of the eye for gods. That’s why when a month past since you last saw your invisible friend, you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

A month should have been nothing, but in reality it was everything. Knowing him for so long, and being in the dark about the world for so long, the longest you’ve been okay with staying away from him was for a few days because talking to your family was like reading ancient script from a wall. But after the fight you two had, where you couldn’t help your anger from not only your family keeping secrets from you but your best friend too, it really hurt you.

Still does.

Your family has been asking what’s wrong, and you always have an excuse. Not wanting to tell them the truth, or admit it out loud, either. That someone they don’t know about is haunting your mind. Your friend has always haunted your mind, though. It just wasn’t until night fell that you allowed him too. When his voice would tickle your ears and consume your mind, you always found yourself reaching under your dress to feel just how much his voice alone affected you.

But you don’t want to think about that right now. You want too scrub your frustrations away into this piece of clothing that you have been washing for the past twenty minutes. You don’t want to think about how pretty his voice sounds... or how much you long to touch him just once... not even how you imagine his lips-

You scream out your frustration, hating yourself for letting these thoughts consume your every waking thoughts, and then start scrubbing the piece of clothing even harder. Making the water in the basin slosh around so much that it tips over the edge in small waves. 

“Wo-wo, there little miss! Worrying about things that haven’t happened yet, shouldn't affect the clothing,” Your aunt, Clotho, pushed her hands out to you like that would somehow sooth your frustration.

You blow out a puff of hot air, and instead of giving your aunt any of your attention, you take the wet piece of clothing, and the rest of the clothing that have gone unwashed, and leave the room. That doesn’t stop your aunt, including your other aunt, and mother, from searching for you later. 

It was while you were sitting on a ridge of the cave that looked out to the rest of the world. The only spot in the entire cave that could be considered a window when compared to a normal home. You look out at the dead earth that surrounds the cave, taking note of a soul that's drifted too far away from the entrance of the underworld and how it soon dissipates into thin air. Probably grabbed by the reaper of souls or even the River Styx’s guardian. 

You longed for a life like there's. Even if something as messily and gruesome like reaping dead souls, and rowing those souls across a river doesn’t sound at all fun, but it’s better than being stuck in a cave for all of eternity for no reason. This isn’t even your job, and your stuck here! Not because of a godly punishment, or because you even wanted to be stuck here. Your birth in this spot was the only reason. 

The fates coined this cave as there's, so this is the spot people travel to when they want to seek out their abilities. You, on the other hand, don’t have a single power that leads people to find you in this cave. Heck, you don’t even know what powers you have worth something like that. You’ve never had the courage to go searching or practicing for it. You can choose to leave—or you should have the choice to leave—to go find out exactly that, but yet, you’re still here. 

“Why- “the long-“ “face, darling.”

Unlike most people, you don’t find the fate sister’s talking annoying when they speak like this. Your brain is wired for it now, after spending every day since birth hearing it.

“You know why,” You say without looking at the fates.

The fates glance at each other, and all three of them shrug their shoulders at the same time.

“We can't read your mind, daughter.”

“Trust me-” “We’ve tried.” “Ow!”

You grin when you hear your aunt, Lachesis, yelp in pain from undoubtedly getting smacked in the back of the head by your mother. Not because you find your aunt’s pain enjoyable, but you love the bound the three fate sisters have. You also knew they tried readying your mind before, but I guess that’s just a part of one of your own useless abilities worth mentioning. Although, having the ability to keep even your own fate and mind as off limits to them is special in its own way. Otherwise they would have found out about your invisible friend and that’s a no-go. 

“Nothing any of you can fix. How about that.” You say rhetorically like you’re breathing out air. Knowing no matter what your frustrations are, it will be heard by the wrong ears to know about them. The fates never wanting to give you clear answers.

You look over at the three of them when a moment of silence has passed, and they’re all wearing the same expression: unconvinced. Unconvinced that they can’t solve your problem, which they can. They just choose not to help. Granted, an hour ago your focus was more on your invisible friend, but now that your family is in front of you, they just remind you of what’s been bothering you for what feels like forever.

You roll your eyes at them. “Fine! You want to know what’s wrong?” Your harsh wording make their eyes widen, but they all sober at the same time. Always ambiguous with their emotions. “I want to leave.”

That makes the fates break up in a frenzy. All three of their minds racing at what you just admitted.

“You can’t!” Aunt Clotho shouts. “Why would you?” Aunt Lachesis questions. “You won’t,” Your mother, the most inflexible of them all, Atropos, demands.

You huff out in anger, sliding off the ledge of the cave you’ve been looking out on, and stomp your feet like a child. “Why not? I hear story after story of the world outside of this cave. I want to explore it. I want to live out there.”

Your mother steps forward, breaking up the placement she usually stands in next to her sisters. “Y/n, darling, you can’t. Your travels will lead you down rocky paths. One’s that have sharp rocks, and dark fellow travelers.”

You grit your teeth, hating the riddle she just bestowed on you. “How would you know? None of you can see my fate!” They all gasp in unison. “And I’m done being told I’m going to die if I leave this cave! Your all so- so - ugh!”

You smack your sides harshly, unable to put into words what you were never given to announce your hatred of their constant protectiveness. Instead of letting any of them sway your decision, you walk away from them. They don’t follow you, and that’s how you want it this time. They never do follow you.

Never for you.

You run right into your room, and pack a bag. The only reason you didn’t do this eons ago is because you had a friend you didn’t want to leave behind, but your done waiting for answers from him too. Your done waiting for answers that are right outside this cave. Answers to questions you’ve not even let your mind wonder too for awhile.

You know who your father is. He’s the main reason you thought your family wanted to keep you locked up in a cave like this, but you always wondered how having a primordial god as a father was possible, and why he bestowed your mother the gift of pregnancy—a gift he shouldn’t have been able to give.

Another question that floated into your mind a lot: What were the other gods like in person? You’ve seen only few come in and out of the fate’s cave. One being the queen of the underworld herself, but that was many moons ago. Is there a moon god? There must be. You knew of the house of Nyx, and about all her children that your family warned you away from. Aunts and uncles that’s blood was so taped your family didn’t consider them their own blood since the war. But, who was the one that resided as the personification of your favorite rock in the sky? The part of the sky that keeps the tides calm?

You have so many questions, but one question...

One question that should have been answered for you years ago, but only you could answer… who are you? Who are you really? That’s a question you can only answer yourself, and it’s the hardest one to answer. An answer you’ll only find by leaving this cave and exploring the rest of the world.

You finish packing a satchel that you made for yourself one day while you were board. You look down at the many sewed in fabrics, and run your hand across it. Although you had fate’s blood in you, sewing wasn’t really much of your thing. You were pretty good at it, though. This being your first and last piece of fabric you ever sewed, and it still being kept together even though you made it years ago. Something you sewed while talking to your invisible friend…

Your eyes become glossy when you think about leaving him, but you shake your head at the thought. This is no time for second guessing yourself. He made his choice to keep you in the dark, and that was the end of it. No turning back.

You pick up your bag, hoist it over your shoulder, and head for the entrance of the cave.

☙❦❧

It wasn’t your fault everyone around you kept life outside these cave walls a secret. It wasn’t your fault that your only friend kept his life a secret, either. Truthfully, it was all formed in a plan to protect you. Protect you from the god who would want to smite you down for just being who you are.

The daughter of Atropos, the inflexible fate that could cut a lifespan at a flick of her wrist. See anyones future thoughts, and present and past thoughts too because of her connection to her sisters. But even with all these gifts she bestowed upon you, your fathers adventures mind took over. You were nothing like him, not really, and the fates were all too young to remember what he was like unpersonified.

So when he came as a ghostly figure, one that not even Jungkook could touch, your mother did not believe him when he told her his name. When he told her he wanted to make a god with her, she believed him even less. But you we’re born somehow. Not by hieros gamos, or even the shaping of clay. A simple poke to Atropos’s belly and she had you within nine months.

Who knew someone so infertile, could make a goddess like Atropos plump like she was? She never got answers as to why he wanted to make your mother pregnant, and besides casting your fate before your birth, none of the fates had a say in your life. Not to the extent they were used to, at least.

But your father was still your father, as absent as he was. Telling you who your father is was the last time any of the fates bestowed you with knowledge of your life. Not that Zeus would want to kill you for having such a Titian like power. Not how you somehow formed a connection with the god of death before you even hit two hours old. But the name of your father they did tell you. It was something trivial to them because even if you wanted to meet him, you really couldn’t. Not unless he wanted you to. 

Your father is the name of a personification, and the name of a place that mortals and gods alike feared to be sent too one day.

His name was Tartarus.

And that’s exactly where you planned to go.

☙❦❧

The second your feet crunch against the open worlds surface, Jungkook’s wings itched. He knew you were out of the cave the second you breathed in the toxic airs. Luckily, he was already in the underworld, talking to Hades about plans with the overflowing amount of souls that have been coming in lately. One second Jungkook was there… then the next second he wasn’t. Feeling the pull to you instantly, and having no thoughts of trying to repent it. 

“I’m not sure, Jungkook. Don’t you think-“ Hades turns in the direction of where Jungkook once stood. He glances around the throne room, seeing no one but Persephone there with him. “Where’d he go?”

Jungkook has never flew faster in his life. Even during the war, he never flapped his wings this hard to pick up speed. With that thought, he slowed his pace a bit. Right when he got in front of Charon to think about what exactly he was going to do. You are out of the cave. You are free. The fates and him never discussed what he was allowed to do if you ever did that! He hasn’t thought about the possibility of you leaving in years. 

But there you were, in his line of sight now. Outside of the cave and walking towards the entrance to the underworld. 

He looks around at the lost souls, seeing you right at the edge of them. To far away to see him, but at the same time, you’ll be deciding to walk through the souls and see him soon. You don’t know enough about the world to go too deep or understand anything about the underworld. The fates cave being at the outer edge of it all.

Charon, the person that allows souls to cross the River Styx, looks over at his winged brother. He’s frantic. Pacing back and forth along the shore, wings sucked into his body, and he’s constantly putting on and taking off his hood. Like he’s not sure how he wants to look right now: dark and mysterious, or like an open book and angelic. Charon would usually ignore the god of deaths antics, but he’s scaring away the souls that have tolls for him. Even if they’re just spirits, there’s more mortals than nymphs around. Seeing the god of death’s skeleton form is making them all cower away from the shore and the deity.

“Jungkook, why must you pace here?” 

Jungkook doesn’t stop looking towards you. You’re still trying to figure out how to get through the crowd of souls that you, in all rationality, could just walk through.

“I-I… nothing,” Is all Jungkook can say in response to Charon’s question. Paying him no mind and only focusing on what’s important to him right now. 

Charon raises a curious eyebrow. Never seeing Jungkook so flustered before. Jungkook has always been a confident god. One that would use his sickle and deathly face to scare others away from him if needed, and didn’t care how other’s perceived him for it. But now, he doesn’t even have the sickle! Leaving it in the throne room where he was once talking to Hades in.

He follows Jungkook’s line of sight, and sees a women standing at the other side of the mass of souls. 

“You could just go and talk to her, you know?”

Jungkook stops his pacing, looks over at Charon and squints his eyes at him like that was the stupidest thing he’s heard all day. “I can't just do that!”

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“Then why are you pacing the shores like you’re trying to reheat the sand?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, and continues his pacing. “Because I can.”

It’s Charon’s turn to roll his eyes. One soul has become brave enough to pass Jungkook, only glancing at the being she only sees as bone. Giving Charon the coin her living loved ones buried her with. She enters the boat, and Charon hopes other’s will be as brave as this mortal to pass the skeleton of a man... but no one does.

As cool and collected as Charon usually is, there has already been problems with too many souls in the living world dying because of the war between countries, so having problems on the shores would not be good either. Although no one has made a fuss about the line to the boat not moving yet, souls tend to get antsy after awhile, especially if they have no coin to give the boatman to begin with. 

“You know a person has to give me a coin to cross the River Styx, don’t you Jungkook?” Without looking at the boatman, Jungkook nods his head. “You should probably make sure she has one. If she wants to cross, that is. She does know that, doesn’t she?”

Jungkook stops his pacing again, digging his boots into the sand as he stops. You probably don’t know that, but that’s not what makes Jungkook stop in his tracks. He sees the souls around him, scared to even look at him, but he doesn’t care about that either. None of them are moving in the like besides the one mortal women that entered the boat. Starting a crowded line even though some of them probably don’t even have a coin to cross. 

Jungkook has seen what happens when souls get frustrated. He also sees the bag you’re holding. All it takes is one soul to realize...

“Are you alive?”

Scratch Jungkook’s thoughts from before. Now he's never flown faster in his life. 

☙❦❧.

You were waiting in the line of souls to get on the boat, not wanting to be rude and pass right through them, when an older male soul asked you, “Are you alive?”

You look over at the ghost of a man, not knowing what to say. Although your family has told you very little about the world, you know that souls tend to grab onto anything living. You only knew this because it was one of the fates sayings they used to say to you so much. A saying that always made you jitter in the cold even if it was warm where you lived. 

Every mortal is afraid to die. So afraid, that even after death they will fight to live. 

You glance around, realizing other souls have turned around to look your way. All of them wanting to look at the living girl that took the one souls attention. You try to lie, but even to you is sounds false, “N-no! Just waiting to get on the boat.”

The man squints at you, unbelieving. “Did you die with that on?” He points to your bag over your shoulder, and by the way you look at it he knows you didn’t die with it, or die at all. “I knew it! Your a living soul... Please help me! I shouldn't have died! It wasn't my time.”

“U-ugh...”

“Help me too! I don’t have a coin because I died at sea. Do you have a coin too spear?” A older male soul says to you, joining the conversation. 

“What coin-”

“Please tell my daughter I'm sorry.” “I didn’t mean to jump off the roof!” “I don’t deserve this!” “Help us!” “Help me!”

So many souls were gathering around you, that you don’t know what to do. You’re crouching on the floor, now surrounded by many souls. You cover your ears, wanting their pleads to stop, and shut your eyes tight. You’re so overwhelmed by everyone and have never been around this many people before. Only small groups of five or six have ever visited the fates before. This group of souls stretches out to the hundreds! 

You’re wishing them to go away. Praying to whatever god that could hear you to make them go away. You would even go back to-

Before you could finish that regretful thought, you’re suddenly no longer surrounded and being hoisted in the air. Gasps and even a feminine scream is heard from below you. 

You grab onto the being that’s saved you, but keep your eyes shut. Feeling woozy in the air, but grounding yourself by holding onto the person even tighter. It's a hard body, and one with dipped shoulders. Your face is buried in whoever your savors is neck, and your arms are grasping at their back. Holding on for deer life as you fly through the air. Your legs are wrapped around the person’s middle, and strangely enough when you squeeze the person closer to you they squeeze back. Keeping you as close to them as possible as you fly away from the swarm of souls. 

By the time you feel you’re savor and you hit land, you’re too sacred to let go of them. They don’t mind, though, because they actually sit down with you in their lap when they realize your not letting go

“A-are we safe now?”

Your savior chuckles at your question, and your eyes shoot open wide when a familiar voice is heard. “Not sure. Would you stop holding onto me like this if I say we are? If your answer is anything else but no, then definitely not.”

You know that voice... you’ve heard that voice in your dreams before and in person too for years. You let your arms and legs go slack around him, feeling your bag fall off your shoulders while you’re still sitting in his lap. Then you slowly pull your face away from his neck. Looking up at your invisible friend for the first time...

“Ghostie?”

He smiles down at you, although it looks strained. “Hi, nae salang.”

You blink. Process everything. Then say without thinking, “You’re really pretty.”

Your face instantly lights up like the sun. You physically feel the heat that’s radiating off of your face. You’re so embarrassed by what you just said.

Jungkook doesn’t find it embarrassing, though. He bites his lip to fight the real smile trying to bloom on his face. Thanking all the gods, even Zeus, for giving him the looks that he has and creating a reaction like that on you because of it. 

“I-I meant...”

“I think you meant I'm drop dead gorgeous! Hotter than the Helios himself, am I right?” You playful smack his shoulder at the teases, but you can’t help the small smile from forming.

So this is what your friend really looks like. Sharp jaw that could cut glass, smooth skin that make your fingers itch to touch him, and raven black hair that looks so soft you want to run your fingers though it. Not to mention the lip piercing and a eyebrow piercing. You knew that body piercing existed. Your own family looking down at the new trend for some reason, but seeing them on your friend now is making your stomach do flips. We don’t even need to get into the tattoos. The beautiful art work printed on his skin has you wanting to know what it feels like to trace every symbol on his arms. 

And you feel the hard body underneath yours. There's not a single layer of fat on him. Completely clean all over. Your starstruck, really. You never knew what to expect if you saw him in person like this, but even now that you’ve seen him in person, you have a grueling question that slips past your lips as soon as it pops into your head.

“Why didn’t you let me see you before?”

Jungkook remains neutral in front of you, but inside there's a roaring fire being lit. Not only is he touching you for the first time, feeling your beautiful body still wrapped around him that he’s been itching to even brush across all this time. Finally being able to let you see himself too, is truly a blessing in disguise. But even now that you’re both visible to each other, he’s tongue tied coming up with answers to your question. 

He knows he should tell you the truth now. He wants to tell you, but there’s still that never elongating fear still lingering in his mind telling him you’ll hate him - be afraid of him even - if he tells you everything you’ve wanted to know for years... like who he really is. 

After a moment of silence, and watching the turmoil cross your friends eyes, you do something you never thought you would be able to do... you reach your hand out, and touch his face. Cupping his cheek and smoothing your thumb out for comfort, but in reality it’s because you can’t help yourself and want to touch him. 

“You can tell me. I won’t be mad, I promise... I’ll swear on the fates if I have to.” He chuckles at you bringing up your family in such a joking manner, but that just brings him to the realization of when he swore on the actual fates. 

He’s touching you... currently having you in his lap... so he broke his promise to the fates. 

They never swore on it with blood, not even on a body of land like the Styx, but it’s a broken promise nonetheless. Having you here, though, in his arms where you’ll forever be safe, is worth any destruction that comes his way from here on out.

He breathes you in, the aroma coming off of you smelling like roses and honey, and he holds it in for as long as possible. Only blowing it out when you start to blink up at him in confusion.

“I... didn’t tell or show you who I was... because... I was afraid you would-... hate me?” Real smooth, Jungkook. Even after he ends his explanation, that ended up somehow sounding like a question, he mentally smacks himself. 

Why the fuck is it so hard to talk to you right now?

“Afraid I'd hate you? You haven’t even told me your name yet, so how would I know who you are?”

Jungkook screws his eyes shut, not wanting to face you when he tells you the truth.

“My names Jungkook.” I quite gasp his heard from you, but he doesn’t open his eyes. The sound not helping his current predicament. “I'm the god of-”

“Death,” You finish for him. “I know who you are.”

You wiggle in your spot on top of him, feeling a little shocked, but don’t get off of him. That just serves to wake up other parts of himself, so he wraps his arms around you tighter, around your waist, and stopping you from moving. Your movement making his eyes go wide, and having to face your equally surprised face. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, glancing at his arms on your waist. He makes them go slack again, and hoping your innocent mind doesn’t realize something is now probably poking you in the ass.

“Why would you think I hate you?” You ask, not understanding why Jungkook is now acting weird, but ignoring it for the time being.

He clears his throat, and tries to seem relaxed again. “Because of how the fates talked about me to you.”

“And that is...”

Now it’s Jungkook's turn to blink in confusion. “You’ve got to be kidding me. They never told you anything about me?”

“Oh! No, they told me a lot of things about the house of Nyx. But what I'm not understanding is why would you think I care?”

Gut punched. Smack in the face. Floored. These are all the different kinds of emotions that Jungkook is now feeling. 

“I’m so confused.”

“How do you think I feel,” You say, unimpressed. 

If this entire time Jungkook didn't tell you who he was because of stories from before you were even born, your going to punch him. And you tell him just that... he laughs.

“Well, I guess I’m gutting punched then,” Jungkook says, feeling incredibly lighter about the situation now. Even after you actually punch him in the shoulder, which Jungkook barely felt because of his layer of muscle in his bicep. He didn’t even flinch, but now your fist is kinda sore. Your eyes go wide for a second, unbelieving that god has this much muscle on him. 

You then glance around the cave, trying not to think about Jungkook and how amazing his everything is, and you see that he flew you to the other side of the cave. You wondered why so many of the fates stories of this place were so gruesome. Especially the part of getting across the River Styx, when the souls judgement would be given. Looking around the cave now, it’s kinda peaceful. Not that you wanted to stay in that part of underworld. You’ve spent to much of your life in a cave to ever stay in one for to long again! But, looking around at the cave that’s filled so many stories with terrible tails, you think it’s a stunning sight. Sparkling walls with moisture and the souls passing by add to your curious mind. Wanting to know what their living lives were like.

Jungkook watched silently as you took your fill of the rest of the underworld. You only living in a part of it since you were born must have been overwhelming, but the look on your face now didn’t make him think you were overwhelmed. You made the same look when you thought about…

It suddenly dawned on Jungkook that you’ve only ever lived in a cave, so this one must be reminding you of your family. Granted, this cave is much different then the one you lived in. Still full of rocks and no flowering green in sight, but having eerie dripping of unknown water and random passing souls is very different from the fate’s cave. Basically, much worse then the cave you lived in.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks. Wanting to make sure you’re not regretting leaving. You look back at Jungkook, smiling softly when he probably caught your wondering eyes and not wanting to worry him about it.

“I’m okay. Just thinking about my family, and how they lied about so much to me.”

“About what?”

You look around the cave again, letting go of him with one of your hands to gesture to it all. “This place and how it’s so-...“

“Terrifying,” Jungkook interrupts. “I know it can be-“

Beautiful.

Jungkook is stunned silent. Your lips did not move, and yet he heard you. You look at him now, concerned about his silence, but Jungkook is totally shell shocked.

He knew this was possible. Being able to hear the person you did hieros gamos with’s thoughts. But that’s just it. You both never did the act itself. This should be impossible, your connection together should be impossible, but yet it all is happening to him and to you. Maybe leaving the fates cave let this be possible, but it has so many emotions flowing through Jungkook right now. This little instance, hearing you just think the word beautiful, is just another reminder of what you two are to each other. Your not just a regular girl to him. Not that Jungkook has ever forgotten, but it’s way more then just a god loving a goddess. It’s entirely more.

Your souls are connected for eternity, and right now your soul looks absolutely marvelous to him. 

“You’re beautiful too,” Jungkook says without thinking, but doesn’t feel embarrassed about it either. He doesn’t care if it makes you ask questions because in this moment you can ask him anything right now, and he would answer. You could ask him to burn the whole world to the ground, and he would do it. This spark through your connection has turned Jungkook into putty, and you’re now looking at him like he’s just given you the moon.

“Oh,” you say in the smallest of voices after a moment. “Um- thank you… J-Jungkook.”

Jungkook grips your waist tighter for a second. Hearing you say his name for the first time is making him want to fly around the universe. He feels like he’s on the god damn moon at this point. Your just so… everything. Your everything to him. You make the god of death blind to the world. Only wanting to ever see you in his line of sight and hear you say his name on repeat into his ear.

While Jungkook continues to look at you with stars in his eyes, it makes you squirm in his lap again. This time Jungkook doesn’t stop you. He relaxes his hands and lets your bodies rub together. Softly groaning and make you raise an eyebrow at him when your butt knocks into his ever growing cock in his pants. All his senses are going haywire. He didn’t think hearing a single word from your thoughts would get him like this, but truthfully, everything about today has been surprising.

He’s not someone that could be easily seduced, but he swears he’s bewitched by you right now. And you’re slowly realizing what it is that keeps bumping into your thigh. You stop moving, and take in your current situation. Nibbling on your bottom lip when it dawns on you that you’re in the lap of the god of death, and how he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you.

What dawns on you even harder, is that you like it. You shouldn’t like it. You should be mad at him! He’s kept so much from you, so you shouldn’t be caving to your secret desires - but at the same time, there hasn’t been a moment since seeing him in person, and finding out who he was, that you’ve been mad at him. Is it okay to just let things go like this? Is that string of a connection you keep seeing between you two that makes you like this?

Your not sure when you started seeing that connection, or feeling it even, but it’s glowing right now. Getting brighter and brighter, and you’re not sure what to do with it. Wanting to reach out to it, but at the same time not sure if you should.

You stutter out his name, wanting to grasp onto something you know. All your other confusing emotions making you feel hotter for some reason. “J-Jungkook... I - um...”

He hums as an answer to his name, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You place your hands on his chest, but you don’t push him away to create distance. In fact, there’s becoming less and less distance between you two as the seconds tick by. The pull of that bright connection pulling you both towards each other like magnets.

You’re so inexperienced with this feeling, but you’re matching it to the feelings you get at night when you only had Jungkook’s voice to go off of. It’s making your face heat up with the rest of your body. Your mind is spinning.

“W-what’s happening?” You ask Jungkook who looks equally in a daze as you feel. Right before your lips touch, something you’ve both been craving to know the touch of for years, you get a response that rocks to your core.

“What is right.”

And then your lips are joined. A first kiss for you, and the first that mattered to Jungkook. A kiss you’ve never felt before, and a kiss that Jungkook has been craving longer than you know about. The bonds between you two pulsed, and you both gasp when you feel it. Staring into each other’s eyes like you can’t believe what just happened.

You don’t know what it is, and he has a good idea. You don’t care about it anymore, and neither does he. Jungkook pulls your body flush against his, reconnecting your lips to each other’s in the process. You whimper at the rough kiss, and it has Jungkook groaning into your mouth. Wanting to pull more noises like that from you. Enjoying the taste of your lips on his, and feeling you vibrate on top of him when he touches your bottom lip with his tongue.

It’s a frenzy of kisses between the both of you. Your very much inexperienced, but Jungkook is just happy to taste you. Happy and used to taking the lead. Forgetting how innocent you are, he grabs ahold of your ass in his two hands. Squeezing the squishy flesh. You gasp into his mouth, letting him take the opportunity to touch your tongue with his. Your tongue is hesitant, but curious - letting Jungkook’s consume your mouth completely.

You feel how your body is shaking. How your mind is only concentrating on the man underneath you like it’s never had before. It’s an experience you don’t want to stop, and Jungkook doesn’t even have the ability to stop it.

Jungkook starts to move your bodies, rubbing against each other. You feel his cock that was once poking at your leg drag over your clothed core. It has you squeaking, and Jungkook chuckling by the cute noise.

“So sweet and innocent,” He says against your lips, in fucked out daze. You hold onto his shoulders, keeping your eyes screwed shut, as he continues to move your bodies against each other with his hands on your ass. The feeling is intensifying as your movements get rougher, but the way Jungkook is looking down at you right now is making you want that feeling so much more. You want to be good for him.

Something inside makes you do it. Makes you feel brave enough to let out your first moan, and just like you hoped, he loved the sound. Jungkook detaches your lips from each other, groaning a deep “Fuck,” that goes straight to your core that he continues to grind against. “You sound so lovely, y/n.”

You bite your lip, turning red when his praise has even your insides tightening. You stutter out his name again, trying not to combust by the way you want to suddenly mold into Jungkook’s skin. Meanwhile, Jungkook is trying ever way possible to become your skin.

He nips at your ear, gliding his tongue across your lobe and enticing more high pitched noises from you. He then drags his tongue downwards, licking the salty surface of your neck. All while watching you in the corner of his eye, seeing your face contort in so many different faces he’s never seen before on you. He loves every one, and wants to see them all on repeat. Maybe even forever if you’ll let him. 

Continuing his decent, he raises your head with his hand at the back of your neck. Tipping your head backwards gently so he can get better access to your chest he’s now exploring with his lips. Everything about you tastes and feels so amazing! So amazing, that when you start meeting Jungkook’s movements with your own his eyes roll into the back of his skull. Feeling the warmth of your pussy through his pants and your thin undergarments. He groans against your chest when at just the right angle he can feel some of your wetness leak from you.

The urge to pin you against the ground and fuck your virginity away is strong, but looking back at your face has him resisting - as hard as that is. He doesn’t want to be the guy the fates expect him to be and one your don’t deserve. A type of god that horns on girls and takes them however he pleases. Not caring about when or how. That’s not Jungkook. Not with you or any other girl he’s been with in the past.

He’s never been selfish, and he’s not going to start now just because his mind is in a frenzy. “Put your hands back on my shoulders, nae sarang.”

It takes you a few seconds to process his words, not even realizing your hands slipped from his shoulders while he was attacking your neck before. “O-okay.”

You slowly place your hands back on his shoulders, not sure what to do or what Jungkook was going to do. He then lifts your body up, positioning your core right on his thigh. As much as he loved your wet core grinding on him before, it ended ups being too much. Jungkook has been alive for many years, so simply grinding on each other won’t get him off, but he also didn’t want to push you to what would get him off if you continued the way you were.

When he places you on his thigh, you shuffle a little to get comfortable. He then places his hands on your lower back over your dress this time, rubbing the soft fabric you’re wearing and comforting you while he does it. Jungkook then smirks up at you, making your eyes widen a little for a second at his sudden dirty expression. “I’m going to make you feel so good, y/n. Do you want to feel good, nae sarang?”

You swallow against the lump in your throat - hands shaking as you grasp onto his shoulders tighter. You don’t even know what could make you feel even better than before, and your a little nervous to find out. This is Jungkook, though. The friend you’ve had since the beginning of your life. The friend you’ve wanted to always feel this good with, but couldn’t in the past out of nerves and the problem of never being able to touch each other. Now, you want him to touch you in ever way he can.

So, you give him permission to take your everything. “I want you to make me feel good, Jungkook... please.”

Jungkook suppresses a groan, surprised by how dizzying your words just got him, and pushing the thoughts in his head as far in the back of his brain as possible. Jungkook then positions his thigh higher, making sure it’s directly against you, and begins moving you back and forth on his thick thigh. The feeling is instant. Before, it was brief feelings of pleasure that had a rest in between each movement, but now it’s a constant.

You grabs onto Jungkook’s shoulders even harder, digging your nails into his shirt, trying to place all your feelings there, but your mouth still opens up to let out even higher pitched moans and whimpers. Your toes are curling, it feels so good. When one of his hands greedily grasps at your ass again, instead of just empty moans your voice fills with his name. His name falling breathlessly from your lips and pushing every syllable into his ears. “Jungkook! Oh my- mmm!”

Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He pulls your body closer to him, still shifting his leg so you don’t stop feeling is thigh on your most intimate parts. He then starts attacking your chest again with long licks and kisses. Wanting to touch you even more, and more intimately then before. While your still screaming out your euphoria above him, he slowly pushes one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder. You feel it fall, and get red in the face for what feels like the tenth time today when you realize your left breast is exposed to him.

The only indication that you resist this is with a small gasp, but it’s soon covered up by another moan when his thigh rubs your clit just right through your undergarments. Jungkook takes this as an invitation. Licking his lips before he attaches them to your nipple. Sucking on the bud and feeling you vibrate all over uncontrollably because of it.

His teeth nip at the bud, and his tongue licks at the surface. Your head is spinning. You’re so sensitive, more than you thought you would be, and all this overstimulation is putting your stomach in knots. “J-jungkook I-… I think…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop. Grinding you harder on his thigh, and using all the tricks he can do with his tongue on your nipple. And he’s got a lot of tricks. Swirling around the bud, and sucking. Nibbling, and licking. Pulling, and flicking. 

Your wetness is soaking his pants now, making his thigh raise even higher to touch as much of it as possible. Wanting to feel how much he’s affecting you right now like you’ve affected him for eons. All the while his cock is dripping pre-cum in his pants right now, and he’s trying his best to ignore it by paying attention to making you feel as good as possible. 

Jungkook hasn’t had anyone since you were born. Since the hieros gamos somehow formed between you two; and his love for you became inevitable. He wants to hear you scream his name for the first time while you cum. He wants to be your first everything, even though he’s never had the urge before. He wants to teach you all the tricks of making love, and watch your sensitive body quiver as you make it through his first teaching.

One more rough thrust against your clit and flick of his tongue in your nipple, has you seeing white. Somehow also sees the night sky’s stars too as your orgasm ripples through your body in waves. It feels like it’s never ending. You’re screaming out his name, burying your face in his neck, and feeling like you’re wrapped up in heat. In Jungkook’s heat.

He holds you through your tremor of an orgasm. Embracing you tightly to him, and kissing your temples. Praising you on how good you did, and how sexy it was to watch.

Jungkook is done for. He can’t let you go. He wants to keep you in his arms forever, and tell the fate to have their Demeter moment with a different child. Your his. You’ve always been his. And Hades forbid anyone that tries to take you from him...

He wants to tell you how he feels - what you mean to him - but he doesn’t have to. Right before you drift off, your orgasm making you utterly exhausted… you hear him say it without words...

I love you.

-

-

-

Final

。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。

River Styx - Styx is a river that forms the boundary between Earth and the Underworld.

House of Nyx (Goddess Nyx) - the personification of night. Most known to be scene as a shadowy figure, Nyx stood at or near the beginning of creation and mothered other personified deities such as Hypnos (Sleep), Death, and Erebus (Darkness). The house of Nyx consists of all the deities that were born from Nyx and stayed loyal by her side.

Tartarus - the deepest part of the underworld where mortals and gods are put after they defied the higher gods (Zeus, Hades, etc.,) to suffer for eternity. The primordial god, Tartarus, is the pit itself. He was the body of the pit itself rather than an athropomorphic deity.

Helios - God of the sun. 

Charon - the son of Erebus and Nyx (Night), whose duty it was to ferry over the Rivers Styx and Acheron those souls of the deceased who had received the rites of burial. In payment he receives a coin that was placed in the mouth of the corpse.

[retphienix]

I really, really enjoy this morose ending.

A narrative that was implied from the word go, yet didn't become understood until it was nearing its end, for me at least.

Because they really don't hide from the facts at any point. Sure, the general populace of fear filled people often imply you're helping, but each boss drops hints matter-of-factly that you are ending each zone entirely, with the later bosses making it not just clear, but understood.

It does make me curious on why the three bosses don't seem to directly recognize the Batter, or anyone else for that matter, with the Queen and the child being the "lords" of this entire world (Son more than Queen, but Queen as a figurehead created by the Son's lingering need for his lost mother) both imply that the Batter is the Son's Father.

For all intents and purposes you'd expect the world to have some lingering theme of a hated King perhaps; Since this world is seemingly constructed from the Son's wishes and the hands of the three bosses, you'd expect the Son's resentment towards his father would manifest the same way his longing for his mother did? With everyone recognizing the Batter in some way-

but knowing what I DO know from beating off (not gonna stop saying it), I'd suspect the various opaque parts of the story not being laid out plainly are due to its own love of the mystique it offers its strange world.

And that intentional lack of information probably left me out of a beat here and there that would explain where the Batter does "fit in".

Perhaps he is the father in the flesh; Or perhaps he is the repressed idea of the father clawing back to the front. The Batter is somehow the biggest mystery in terms of origin, purpose, and- I suppose- state of matter (a phantom himself? The honest and true father? The child's work? One of the 3 bosses work? The Queen's work? be that THIS Queen or the ORIGINAL mother)

I mean, from the start the Judge isn't convinced you aren't a phantom- and towards the end you find out Phantoms are the dead, so maybe the Father shows up as the Batter in this world because the Father died. And if that's the case that opens a whole additional can of worms for what that means for the Son in his Room.

And perhaps, while we see glimpses of a world controlled by the doodling imagination of the Son, everyone is oblivious to the Batter's identity because they were crafted by the three bosses- whom seem to have known the mother, but I don't recall them ever mentioning the father- only the Son references him.

So maybe the obliviousness of everyone up until you meet the Queen is due to the Batter being an erased secret- something the "gods" in charge of each zone simply never knew?

Or maybe another route is why- and I should stop trying so hard to explain things using in-universe understandings when that universe has already been deleted.

With the pills being the smoking gun for why everything is so strange. With the entire world being in the child's head, our identity being a repressed thought against his current reality as he has grown to hate his father and this seclusion his illness has put him into, and the entire thing is explained from the perspective of the child's mind running frantic on its hamster wheel.

The three bosses are imaginary friends meant to justify to himself a sense of control as he doodles endlessly in his room. The Queen: his idealized version of his mother's memory. The Batter: a repressed idea of the father that has damned him to this seclusion. This says nothing of how the ending physically manifests in a world where the child is doodling rather than playing god, maybe it symbolizes death from his illness- with his repressed idea of his father being what he blames for each light being turned off on his death bed- or maybe I've gone too far into trying to blatantly explain a narrative I've consumed only once and I should step back to better take it in again.

Especially when that narrative itself is more fun to think on BECAUSE it's so opaque and unexplained in some ways.

The thing is- this whole uncertainty I'm left with surrounding the Batter goes right alongside other mysteries of the game, like Zacariah and the Judge's recognition of the player, or the existence of a player to begin with (narratively), or the in-universe recognition of this being a game- the fourth wall as a whole is a mystery for this narrative-

The thing is- all of that- is kinda what I'm LOVING about this game.

Just as the game itself, from a "grounded" perspective, is filled with unique, strange, and wonderfully off beat (beat off, gottem) characters, dialogue, and moments- and this strangeness is deeply appealing, and gives it such an entertaining air to it-

Just as it has that- the story it holds is breaking free from the conventional- these 4th wall bits- the player- what's left opaque even at the end- it all adds to that strangeness that's so delectable in this title. It's frosting on the cake, and I'm savoring it all~

To circle back from the overarching and back to the literal moment to moment for a second. I mentioned loving how morose this was and I thoroughly mean it. Not only is it earned. Not only is it a genuine emotional "payoff" for our journey- a journey repeatedly tainted by sadness and worry, that culminated in a player-realization of yet more sadness and worry- and capped with this ending of us watching the Judge wander a now desolate world- it's also left with the right amount of quiet and the right words to leave by.

The Judge saying he isn't doing this for a happy ending, but for the best satisfaction that can be attained from this horrible state- one where all has been erased, but the perpetrator still failed.

Excellent~ That followed by the few scenes of the Judge wandering, just excellent~

Oh! And the fucking true ending cracked me up.

Here I thought (and maybe it is!) that the true ending was me being given the choice between Judge and Batter, the shocking twist of the "True" ending was, if you'll allow me, a bat to the back of the head lol

10/10

Ah, and to close off, I reloaded and grabbed the Batter's Ending.

Between the two, and not just because it's the "good" ending, but rather because it's the "good" ending that's still entirely, 100% bad- I prefer Judges.

But.

The Batter's ending is still pretty damn succinct and strong.

While the Judge's ending left me with a perfectly poetic failed good ending that gave me plenty of pause (paws?) to think on and consider what I experienced.

The Batter's ending is like a cold close, a fantastic one. No scenic walk, no final lines about a grim victory.

The Batter just tells the Judge off for trying, walks to the switch, and turns it Off.

It's kind of beautifully done, but I stand by the Judge's morose close over the Batter's sudden darkness.

Well it took me ages but I finally beat off everybody~ 🎉

[thatlittlemouse]

Shipper tag game

tagged by @lunanoc 🫶@tatchling 🫶@tiesanjiaoshenanigans🫶

What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care about anymore?

First of all, I got into fandom in my 20s, so anything I was into in my teens was not at obsession level

Which ship would you consider your first one?

???????????????????????????? sudden flash of being really excited about the pink haired girl and that bad guy in tokyo mew mew. deep seated memories of being into takeru/hikari in digimon adventure 2. gambit/rogue from the xmen cartoon oh my god

Your first fanfic was about which couple?

I don't write so read: idk if doujinshi counts here, but the first ship I really started consuming fan content for was ginhiji (gintama)

Do you remember the first couple you saw fanart of?

There's no way I remember that..... scrolling deviantart or whatever, who knows what I saw 😭

Have you ever gotten into ship discourse?

I try to avoid discourse, so no. I get mad at people with bad takes, block, move on

Did you use to have any NOTP or have one currently?

There was this one niche yukio (ao no exorcist) ship that bothered me a lot, but I'm not in that fandom anymore and even if I saw it I wouldn't be as bothered. Otherwise, none currently. I just have meh-TPs

Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?

heihua ✨✨✨

Currently, do you have any OTPs?

From dmbj I'm actively into heihua, less actively into pingxie, neither of them really at the highest brainrot levels. I think fondly of some of my other ships every once in a while

Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?

uhhhh nothing comes to mind. No wait, queliot (the magicians) lmao

Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?

🤔🤔 I don't think so, I either get the vibe right away or I don't. I can get a better understanding of why people ship them, but that won't make me ship them

Do you have any ship that, in the past, would've been considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?

uuuhhh yukishura maybe? even years back people were pointing out the age difference and I know, I know, but their dynamic is still nice even if I probably don't ship them like that anymore. xuexiao isn't from "the past" and it's been cancel worthy from the start lmao

What is your favorite crack ship?

I don't have crack ships, I'm too canon obsessed

What is the couple you read the most fanfics about?

Might be louis/lestat, I only read the books a few years ago and I had to do so much archeology for them!

What do most of your ships usually have in common?

Time to call myself out 💁‍♀️ I like more than one type of dynamic, but there are some elements that a lot of my ships have in common if I put them side by side: it's the "whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same (sometimes derogatory)" type of dynamic. I love characters that are complicated and think they're unlovable until they find someone that's Kind Of Like Them. It's even better when on the surface they seem very different, but they can tell they're the same. And the reaction of the two might be to be wary of each other, to antagonize each other, to clown each other, to take refuge in each other. Could be the premise of good enemies to lovers ships, but I usually like lower stakes. ginhiji (gintaka also), buckynat, wenzhou, heihua etc different flavors but I think they have this common thread

I haven't found something clear in common about ships that don't fit the above

What you absolutely hate in a ship?

There are romance tropes I dislike, fandom tropes I dislike, maybe I'm too tired to think of things that annoy me right now even though there are many

tagging @bahrmp3 @middayfiddler @verycharismaticdragon @adamantineheart if it sounds like something fun to you

[durrtydawg]

20 fanfic questions!!

thank for the tag, lovely <3 @cchickki

How many works do you have on AO3?

6! Far more unpublished though.

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

out of those published: 60,723

3. What fandoms do you write for?

uncharted. whoops.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wine, Wine, Whine. I Think We've Got Chemis-tree, The Sadir Inheritance, A Taste of your Own, Best Served Cold

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try!! Nothing makes me feel happier than seeing that people have enjoyed my stuff so much they feel inclined to actually tell me?? If I ever don't reply, it's honestly because I'm overwhelmed, or have imposter syndrome... on my own writing? Hmm.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god. tbh none of my ao3 ones are particularly angsty. Best Served Cold is probably the closest because of ✨vengeance✨, but I've got a fair few angsty fics unpublished.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

deffo I Think We've Got Chemis-tree. It's just silly feel-good fluff and very 'fanfictiony' if you get what I mean. Not my fave, but people seem to love it for some reason :')

8. Do you get hate on fics?

HA. Luckily, I've managed to steer clear from any hate with my Sam stuff, which is probably down to the niche-ness of the fandom, but I used to get a LOOOT when i wrote TWD stuff back in the day. And it was pretty much always due to me using British english spelling & lingo rather than US. Yawn.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind?

Abso-fucking-lutely. I think the stuff I've published is pretty tame tbh... compared to what I'm too frightened to post because I'm sick in the head <3. I love giggly, fluffy smut, but hey. I also love stuff that verges on dead dove. Come at me with asks on the matter. I'm game.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. Tbh I don't like anything enough to do crossovers, but ig it's not out of the question.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Again, this fandom is so small, I feel like it'd be blatantly obvious if it had been. I think I saw something a while back that made me raise my brow at the similarity, but to say it was stolen may be a bit far-fetched.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I had an old TWD series of mine translated... twice?!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I had a friend once who asked me to beta her fic, and it ended up becoming a total 50/50 collaboration, so yeah! Again, it was TWD.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Pfft. I really don't have one. (I'm a disgusting, delusional self-shipper.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

ARGH I really want to continue with The Sadir Inheritance, but it's so time consuming, and it takes me about a month to write a very basic request, let alone take care of my fic-baby. I really really like it and have SOO many ideas, so maybe it's overly pessimistic to say I won't ever finish it. But the fandom may be extinct by the time I do :')

16. What are your writing strengths?

Apparently I'm good at dialogue and characterisation? That's unhealthy obsession, bay-bee!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Anything emotional, I think. I enjoy writing the conversational side of things, and am a very humour-centric person, so find it hard to make things perfectly angsty/sad when they need to be. Though I still write it! I'm just not all that confident.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Hell yeah. Just make sure it's accurate to avoid offence/severe cringe. I wouldn't personally do it unless I was completely certain it fit.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

the walking deadddd

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Out of those I've published? Probably the Best Served Cold/A Taste of Your Own duo. It was a lot of fun to write, and allowed me to add a relatively solid plot to something raunchy- though, the alternative ending to ATOYO is better, and I wish I posted it first, because I want more people to see it sksks. You live and learn.

I won't tag anyone- but would looove any of my moots to do this. It was fun!!

[dizzydizney]

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I am not ignorant to the problems this franchise has. I can hate the bad parts while still loving the good parts. I can say “this isn’t right” and “here’s how it could’ve been better” at the same time. I can love Uma and Mal, honestly. I’m a grown fucking woman, I contain multitudes :P

I know this series has a horrible double standard when it comes to race. Colorblind casting, female driven stories - great! Casting nearly every antagonist as a black girl, obviously not great. They really didn’t think about the optics of what they were doing and it came off in a terrible way.

I wish Uma and Audrey were treated better. And believe it or not, I have lots of problems with the way Mal was written. The movies kind of fell apart and failed to deliver on a satisfying story over all. Each movie has its high points, and they obviously all have their low points too. I mostly wish the movies were written with a lot more (read: ANY) thought and care. That any character felt like they had a satisfying arc in the end. But, that’s something we’ll never get!

You wouldn’t know it these days but fandom is not politics. Liking a “bad” character does not make you a bad person. Liking a movie or a show with shitty writing doesn’t make you a shitty person. You can say “Yes I recognize the issues with [character/movie/show] but I still choose to engage with it bcoz...” whatever! It has bad writing but you like the songs, the characters, one particular relationship, etc. 

Liking something with faults doesn’t magically make you ignorant to said thing’s faults!!

If you get an inkling of things like, in this case, the racist optics and double standards, pay attention to that! You need to be able to spot these things. Bcoz there is absolutely no such thing as pure, perfect, unproblematic media. Any and everything you can consume has SOME issue with it. Just be smart, listen to what people (especially POC, especially here) say about it. You can learn, be aware, be critical, be smart, consume, enjoy, have fun, praise the good parts, scorn the bad parts. You can do it all at once!

And I mean it’s easy to see the issues in Descendants. And it’s also easy to not want to engage in the constant negativity surrounding it. Especially in this case, and I’m sorry, when a lot of the times the argument seems to just be “If you like this character then you’re racist” end of story. It’s not accurate, and it doesn’t paint a good picture of the whole fandom when there’s no room for nuance. 

Yet again the only reason I started the whole “poor little meow meow Mal did nothing wrong” in the first place is bcoz I was fed up of all the negative takes on her. Calling her a killer ?? pretending that she’d done all sorts of evil and fucked up stuff like it was canon when there was NO evidence to suggest it. And I’m tired of that. Sure the story was unfair and she got off easy, but people are basically just writing fanfic about all her made up misdeeds so they can have MORE reasons to hate her and MORE reasons to get angry at this fictional little Disney child that doesn’t really exist! CHILL

And I’m sorry but choosing ONLY to focus your anger on Mal and saying it’s because of double standards in the story, and then turning around and excusing other characters for the same shit that Mal does... That’s funny. 

Anyway long story short to answer your question Nonny. I don’t think H is singling me out but I’m sure I’m lumped in there with everyone else. Like it’s not even funny anymore. But nothing anyone says is going to change anyone’s minds so. Everyone feels how they feel and we’re all just screaming into the blue void of tumblr

[sparrowsabre7]

Something I'm getting a bit sick of at the moment is hyperbole in media criticism online. It's been happening for a while now but seems to have increased lately, particularly in the negative.

Things are no longer allowed to be ok, or good, or flawed, they must be complete perfection or they are the worst thing to have ever been aired. I've definitely been guilty of hyperbole in the past (and will again) but it's the almost hive mind like echo chamber of disgust/praise that is infuriating me.

A few recent examples being the Obi-wan Kenobi show, the Netflix Resident Evil, Morbius, and The Batman.

With Obi-wan there was a lot of initial positive reception which almost immediately turned to hatred and how Disney was once again destroying the childhoods of millions.

Resident Evil was also hated from the get go, people sharing out of context quotes to instantly meme and make fun of and how it was abysmal.

Morbius should need little introduction here, once again turned into a joke that Sony seemingly is both in on but doesn't get.

Finally, The Batman was released to near universal praise and anyone who criticised it was an idiot.

Now the following is my subjective takes on each, obviously everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but I don't think any of these four warranted the extreme reaction they received.

Obi-wan was flawed but overall solid, some questionable choices in some areas and some dodgy cgi work, but the same is true of the prequels which many of its detractors love.

Resident Evil is vastly different from its source, but is not the worst show in the world by a long shot. It's decent enough even if it has decided it would rather be The Walking Dead than Resident Evil.

Morbius I have not seen but I doubt it can truly be as horrible as people (many of whom have also not seen it) suggest. It's the result of dumb marketing decisions on Sony's part but I can't imagine it's any worse than say Ghost Rider.

The Batman is very good, sure, but it's also released on the heels of a number of derided Batman related properties which will have coloured opinions and it's also (I cannot state this enough) 3 fucking hours. There is nothing in that runtime that requires that level of rumination, it would have been much better as a solid 2 hour film.

What I'm trying to get at is that this reliance on hyperbole in media criticism is colouring our interaction with media, where anything that falls a little short is seen as a failure, or something that succeeds where once it faltered is deified. It's just not a healthy way to consume.

[arihi]

What replaces your negative thoughts when you're feeling good? I can't literally can't imagine not having them.

Hi Anon! The answer is that nothing replaces those. They are pretty persistently there.

I know it's not encouraging to hear. The reality is, at least for me, feeling good and having a good time don't mean that I stop having anxieties and worries in the back of my mind. At best, sometimes I go a little while without consciously thinking it because I'm preoccupied with something else. I still catch myself smiling too widely when I'm having fun, and silently chiding myself to laugh a little quieter, and I still cringe at the sound of my voice when I talk in call with my friends sometimes - even when we're having a good time.

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stare in awe because I've been feeling disconnected from my body, and I'm struck by how I don't hate how I look. This is even when my partner is actively over for date night, who makes me feel loved and desirable. It's still so rare that it's notable enough to say out loud. Like, wow, I don't look terrible right now!

I can tell when I'm in a good mental space when I bounce back quickly from things, and when I'm able to cut off a thought before it becomes a negative self-talk spiral. If plans get cancelled with a friend, or if something happens that makes me wonder if they hate me, I'm able to more quickly assess that that isn't the case and that life is a busy busy thing. The reality is life is very large, and circumstances are many. And so many people are going through and experiencing life, in so many different ways, that it's unlikely that it's me specifically they're avoiding, or impacting on purpose, etc.

Sometimes something makes me cry and by the end of the hour I'm already feeling better and cooking dinner. That's when I know I'm feeling good - I'm doing a better job of self-soothing and taking care of myself instead of falling into bad habits of not eating or entertaining lingering dreadful thoughts.

It's like a visual depiction of grief that I once saw. When something happens, it feels like it consumes you. It never goes away, but your life grows around it, and eventually it takes up less space not because it's gone away, but with time, because there's more than grief. The negative thoughts don't go away - but the reality is life is very large, and there are many good times and thoughts as well. And eventually, life grows around them, and you'll find a lot of the good mixed in with the bad.

[pomegranatesandcrows]

focus on one thing

Because of the world we live in, we are practically conditioned to always be doing at least two things at once. We go for a walk and spend the whole time trying to reign in thoughts that oscillate between work and friends and our next meal and upcoming plans and what we did right that day and what we could have done better. We eat a meal and spend the whole time scrolling on our phones, consuming as much media as possible. A lot of people that I know (including myself) struggle to even sit down and watch a film in its entirety without getting fidgety or taking a break to doom-scroll. The combination of attention-killing social media (I'm looking at you, TikTok), an exceedingly concerning cost-of-living crisis (that makes it so that we are always thinking about work and expenses) and a million and one things that we could (or "should") be doing each day, it seems like there is no other option than to constantly be thinking about or doing more than one thing.

On the first point of attention-killing social media, I think it is pretty obvious to understand that short-form media has trained us to get a nice little dopamine hit every thirty seconds or so. At first, when I tried to write on this, I went on a massive tangent about unhealthy comparison, confirmation bias and the age of the influencer. While these are all important topics in their own right (and I guess either a testament to why I started a blog or this attention-killing phenomena), they're not as relevant to today's discussion compared to dwindling of attention spans.

Anyway -- very concerning -- we are seeing the insidious effects of the rotting of attention spans (aptly named, 'brain rot') in kids, whereby school teachers are struggling to control classrooms. We have all watched videos of kids having tantrums at school or calling their teacher names or throwing objects in defiance, and we have all likely giggled or gawked or gasped at such videos with some level of shock or dismay. However, many of us do not take the time to evaluate how this short-form media -- which we adults also tend to consume on a daily basis -- is impacting out attention spans and behaviour.

There is always some new meme to laugh at or influencer to gush over or article to read. It is a hell of a lot of fun, it does make our dopamine receptors go absolutely rabid, and it occupies us enough to even momentarily forget about the fires ablaze all around us. But, it also means that every moment of every day is consumed -- or at least has the potential to be consumed. This should be concerning us. We should not have something to do in every moment of every day; we should be forced, like children, to sit with nothing and use our imaginations. I hate to say "our parents were right" as much as the next guy, but social media has ultimately led us to lose the art of occupying ourselves. In doing so, we typically end up self-reflecting beyond the natural anxieties that spring to mind so easily, and we inevitably learn more about the self. Moreover, when we find there is nothing left to reflect on -- and trust me, there is a moment where this occurs -- we actually afford ourselves the privilege of doing nothing.

'Doing nothing' is actually something quite profound; to live in one's body, and to notice nothing more than the physical reality is everyday magic. The faint buzz in your fingertips; the air that travels through your nose, into your lungs and back up through the throat out your mouth; even the sound of air circulating you. We have somehow dubbed these mindfulness strategies as anxiety cures or a form of CBT -- and whilst they most certainly can be used as such -- they are actually our natural state of being.

Because mindfulness strategies are dubbed to be mental health treatment as opposed to mental health hygiene, they have resultantly been amalgamated with the dogma of wellness culture. As we all know from 'pilates girl' trends and over-priced vitamins, 'wellness culture', as it stands today, is intrinsically related to class. This brings me onto my next point, which is this notion that because everything is so expensive, the majority of us are being worked to the bone to simply fund a modest lifestyle. This over-working inevitably leads to exhaustion, and so the extent of leisure which we are afforded is that which is easily accessible and time-efficient. More often than not, the first option which fulfils this criteria is short-form social media, perpetuating the degeneration of attention. Whilst I am not positing that you 'work less' or completely restructure -- because that would only be insensitively furthering wellness culture's classist agenda -- I am suggesting that you start somewhere. Even a minute of active mindfulness is infinitely potent. I'd be a hypocrite to tell you that you should quite short-form media together. I am still an avid revenge-bed-timer, doom-scroller, bed-rotter, whatever you call it, especially after I've had a particularly draining day at work. In saying that, both my own and other's anecdotal evidence (as well as a pretty hefty body of experimental literature) backs the need for us to take time out and focus on one thing; our physical presence.

This sort of physically grounded mindfulness is a start, and, like moss, it grows and starts to seep into every day actions. Eventually, you find that a meal is much more satisfying, more satiating, more worthy of gratitude, when you take the time to only eat a meal, instead of eating a meal and catching up on emails, for example.

Research also tells us that we are really not as good at multi-tasking as we think. And so, when we make the effort to focus on one thing at a time -- even if we only start with on one thing that we solely focus on each day (for example, you may choose to simply start by spending a minute of your morning walk to the station simply noticing what is around you), we become exponentially better at doing that one thing.

Most of us know this from whatever work we do. Usually, if you are writing one email whilst thinking of a different way, your words tend to get jumbled up or you make typos or you forget to add an important detail. Understandably, many of us make concerted efforts to rectify this, attempting to only focus on work whilst we are working. This is the right thing to do, but there is something inherently wrong with affording this privilege of your undivided, devoted attention to your work and not to yourself.

And so, I implore you to practice focusing on one thing today. Lay inked before you go to sleep and spend a minute just being in your body. Eat an apple and really focus on the task of consuming it, show gratitude for having such a crisp and juicy apple. Heck, clip your toe nails and command your thoughts to only focus on clipping your toe nails.

[godhoodandgirlhood]

MAEVE MILENA DEVOE (p. ebony) ‧₊˚✩彡

(these character introductions are inspired by @/liv-is, check out their blog!!!)

God was always watching. He was the weight Maeve carried on her back, whispering noxious sentiments about her in her ear. That God was their father, and there was nothing she could do but believe. There was no one else on her side, but he was hardly on hers anyway. All they had was the notebook they brought everywhere and the uniform they wore to their all-girls Catholic school, nothing else, nobody else. Well, except for Florian. While he may be younger, he was bright, shiny in her dark life surrounded by people who wouldn't bat an eye when she was around. Their mother was apathetic, their father was belittling and cruel, but Florian was humane like nothing they had known before. So, she took care of him like he was her own, because he was all Maeve could ever have. Nothing in the world belonged to Maeve, except for Florian. All the praise for Florian made them inferior, but the fact it was their younger twin made them strong. The way that they were one in the same, two sides of the same coin, cut from the same cloth. Her whole life, that was the only truth that provided Maeve with comfort. There were many "truths" she was told, like how her mission in the eyes of God were to be sweet, gracious, clean, but all she felt was dirty. Stained like blood at the hands of their father; just a dirty, dirty girl. Whenever the nuns spoke of their connection to their lord and saviour, she felt confined by a brass-bound chain to agree. But, Maeve knew God didn't love them. He didn't love queers, didn't love sacrilegious sinners who hate their fathers. If God's hands made a perfect earth and flawless universe, why did Maeve feel like the only misshapen creation? Bile rose in her throat when she prayed, bruised knees scraping against the filthy floor. No one would listen to their venting, not their busy God and not their restless brother, so they wrote. It was nothing if not autobiographical, Maeve's writings detailing the life of a depraved, abused Catholic schoolgirl surrounded by sacred men and obedient women. It wasn't a story as much as it was a confession, as if she was sitting in the confession booth praying to be saved by anyone other than God, for once. Maeve walked the earth as a straying cretin, but in all their power tried to become capable of something. Of course, Florian praised her like no other, the only person to see her like a person, but Maeve longed for more. Their craving engulfed their entire life, consuming them like a malnourished child feasting on a piece of dry bread. All she wanted was more, more than anything she had wanted before. Maeve needed more than Florian, more than writing, more than life. Their whole life they just wanted something to desire, and this was it: The desire to have everything. She was quickly invited to Lovecraft's School of Humanities, which she accepted faster than anything else. A wanting could have destroyed anyone else, but not Maeve, not this time.

CREDENTIALS ♡

"May! My other half, as some would say. Love them more than anything, but don't tell Aven. I don't know what I would do without her." -Florian Devoe, younger twin. "Maeve disgusts me. The things she wrote... Lies," A broad, ginger man bellowed, a cigar hanging from his lips, "She should be in Church, not whatever school she's in now. Absolutely vile." -Seamus Devoe, father. "They're smart, maybe more than me. Observant, certainly. I think she knows me better than I know myself, and that sends shivers down my spine." -Yvette Amaru, friend. "Creepy. She always analyzed people as if she was some kind of stalker. No friends, either." -[REDACTED], ex-peer.

MISC. ♡

Voice Claim: Lola Bunny - Looney Tunes Theme Song: Camden - Gracie Abrams Fun Fact: Maeve is very superstitious due to their time in a radical Catholic home, and still follows her superstitious traditions to this day.

✿ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

[oh-holy-slut]

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[dragonsareourfuture]

Hey friend. Can I request headcanons for Wammy boys trying food made by their friend or s/o who's really bad at cooking?

The Wammy Boys Trying Your Terrible Cooking

Hi friend! I was going to just do headcanons but I got carried away and added a lil Drabble to it as well. Sorry it took so long though, I was having trouble with Near’s :/

L

- He’s going to be brutally honest with you when your cooking isn’t up to par.

- in fact, with all of the delights he gets from Watari everyday he might insist that you never cook at all. Honestly you’re both relieved.

- he’ll keep a pretty straight face while chewing, but then tell you that there isn’t really a need for you to cook again. Ever.

- it’s so brutal to everyone around you but you’re honestly grateful for both the honestly and the relief from your cooking duties.

…

It was a kind gesture, offering to give Watari a break. L has been somewhat of a black hole today, consuming anything and everything, and the poor man has been running himself ragged trying to keep up with L’s orders. You, feeling sorry for him, tell him to rest while you take over in the kitchen.

If only you actually knew what you’re doing.

It doesn’t help that Watari, in all his infinite wisdom, must have memorized all of his recipes, as there are absolutely no recipe cards, books, or even notes in the kitchen whatsoever.

Okay, you think, no matter. I’m smart. I can figure this out.

Don’t mind the spoiler, but you could not, in fact, figure it out and your kind yet unfortunate efforts only resulted in the most charred cake you ever did see. But, after an hour and nothing else to offer, you ice the pathetic thing and bring it out on a tray. Perhaps presentation will make up for…whatever that is that lies underneath.

That hope is soon lost as L takes a bite and promptly sets it back on the tray.

“Would you like me to be honest with you?” He asks politely.

“No,” you sigh, plopping down into the chair next to him. “I know it sucks.”

“Oh, good.”

Mello

-pfft, you think he’s any better?

- he has no room to talk, but he can and will make fun of you.

- claims that he could probably do better than “whatever the hell that was” and that inspires something of a competition.

- it starts out fun but somewhere along the line you guys got really into it and now whoever loses might cry, who knows.

…

You sit across from Mello at the dining room table. You eye your creation and all the confidence you had in the beginning is wiped out. It looks…less than appetizing. Though, the one next to it is not much better, looking rough (or burnt) around the edges.

Your eyes dart to your partner’s — or, right now, your opponent’s. “So, are we trying each other’s and then our own?”

“Only seems fair,” he remarks while reaching for a fork. The utensil stabs into your dish and you cringe when a piece is torn out. You can see the middle of it now, and it sure as hell did not cook all the way through. Mello seems to notice as well but like hell he’s going to back down from a challenge. He brings the fork to his mouth and doesn’t look back unless it’s on his past mistakes that led him to this point in time. He chews for a moment, and that’s when the gagging starts.

“You’re just being dramatic, it’s not that bad!” You claim, watching Mello rush to the sink and stick his tongue under the faucet.

“Fine, you try it then!”

“Maybe I will!”

Mello looks on in absolute glee when your own face contorts after your bite.

“Yeah? Is it good?”

“Amazing,” you lie around a mouthful. “Just…a culinary masterpiece.”

Matt

- bitch is honest.

- The way he sees it, he has nothing to gain from keeping how much he hates your cooking a secret.

- if he does he just has to eat more of it, and you’re living a lie. Loose loose.

- just pretty casual about it overall.

…

You don’t think Matt’s eyes have lifted from the screen since he pressed “start”. You know better than to tell him to stop, but somehow you also want to know that he’s being somewhat healthy. It doesn’t even have to be anything big. Hell, if he got a single vegetable in him you’d be happy.

So, you head to the kitchen. It’s never on you to make dinner. Or lunch. Or breakfast. But you’re sure you can manage.

You rifle through the fridge, looking for something to make when all you find is a head of lettuce, cheese, and random takeout leftovers. Huh. Okay, this isn’t terrible. You can make something out of this! Like…stir fry? Stir fry is just a mixture of random things you find in the fridge cooked in a pan, right? Yeah. Sure.

You end up making “stir fry” and, dare you say, it doesn’t look terrible!

You make your way to the couch and place the plate you made down in front of Matt who, in a daze, reaches out and fumbles for the fork. His eyes, watery and red, stay in place as the fork reaches his mouth.

All you hear next is the defeated “game over” tune and the sounds of choking.

“Matt! Shit!” You exclaim, taking the fork from him and hitting his back to help get whatever it is from his throat. When his coughs have finally died down you ask, relieved, “You okay!?”

“Yeah,” Matt responds, sitting back and subtly pushing the plate away from him with his foot.

“…it’s absolute shit isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

“Thank you for your honesty.”

Near

- He’s a picky eater anyway, so the chances of him eating your food are slim to none if it looks or smells or feels unappetizing in any way.

- If he did eat your food it would be because he’s literally starving or if everything about your dish seems fine, it’s just the taste that makes you want to die.

- if that is the case…

Near hasn’t eaten in days. You’re honestly worried beyond belief but with the amount of work he has he isn’t willing to take a break and figure out what it is he wants to eat. It’s driving you crazy.

So crazy, that you’re willing to actually enter the kitchen. You try your best, and that’s all that counts.

You come out of it with a plate of food that you don’t think looks too bad! So, with a skip in your step, you head over to Near and place the plate on the floor next to him.

He seems so out of touch with reality that he takes one glance at the plate, seems to find it satisfactory, and picks up a piece with his hands to bring to his mouth. You wait patiently for a response as he chews, eyes now stationary on his figurines once again. He’s chewing slowly. You hope that means he’s savoring your cooking.

That hope runs out as soon has Near leans back over the plate, let’s the food drop from his mouth and pushes it away entirely. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re still there, and when he finally notices you looking at him all he can do is say, “thank you, but no thank you.”

You can take the hint from there.