#ive drawn this guy quite a few times and I enjoyed it every single time!!!!

[annadeef]

Absolutely LOVE drawing sharp teeth for commissions!

[bauslut]

as you are | v.

word count: 4.390k

warnings: cursing, sexual innuendos, angst, some arguing, references to murder, discussion of serial killers, references to violences, nc-17

a/n: hello! this is the fifth chapter of my hotch fic ! i’ve been putting a lot of work into this, so all feedback is appreciated !!! <33 let me know if you owuld like to be tagged :)) chapters three and four are linked below ! i hope you guys enjoy !!! 

| iii. | iv. |

(i don’t own this gif)

ding. 

the quiet chime of the elevator echoed through the compact space as the doors slid open. a brunette stood, her thumbs gliding across a dimly lit screen, her brow furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, 

aaron hotchner stepped forward, nudging the brunette as he swiveled on his heel, “good morning.”

today, she was clad in a pair of black skinny jeans, the denim hugging the fullness of her thighs. on her top half, she bore a simple black sweater, the texture a cable-knit stitch. the neckline was a v-neck, cutting down only inches above her breasts. she wore her hair down, the locks falling lazily, sweeping along her shoulders. 

“morning,” aaron’s lips parted as his gaze wandered, admiring her for just a moment, “i like your sweater.” 

“i bet you like the hickeys too.”

aaron’s gaze traveled to her collarbone, the deep burgundy marks painting her pale complexion, scattered in a line, starting from her collarbone and flowing well into the hem of her sweater. a thin layer of powder concealed the severity of the plum and crimson tones, but they weren’t concealed. a blush spread, cheeks a slight tinge pink. yet, his lips curved into a smug smirk, satisfaction coursing through his veins.

he left those marks on her. 

and he more than pleased that it was his doing. 

“i sure do,” his voice was light, laced with a tease, “you look beautiful today, rowan.”

her head tilted up, a broad grin enveloping her features, “thank you. you look quite--”

the elevator whirred to a halt, the doors opening once more. aaron cleared his throat, dipping his head, “after you.”

dozens of eyes fixated on the pair as they strode from the elevator. morgan and garcia were gathered around the printer, their conversation ceasing as rowan and hotch strolled over to their respective desks, the door of hotch’s office nearly slamming shut. jj was perched at her own desk, springing to her feet the moment hotch’s blind’s were drawn. reid, nose deep in a novel, set the book down, spinning around in his chair to face rowan. prentiss and rossi sauntered over to the young agent’s desk, eyes blazing with curiosity, eager to bombard with a flurry of questions.

“so,” rossi took a sip of his coffee, “how was babysitting little hotch?”

“it was fine,” rowan shrugged, “i mean, hotch’s apartment is pretty cold and bare, a little like him. but jack was so sweet. maybe he takes after his mother. by the way, was hotch a little distressed yesterday? he seemed really tense when i spoke with him on the phone.”

“hotch was thinking about you all day!” garcia chirped, her head bobbing with every word, “god, he was so fucking distraught because you weren’t there. and the amount of times he called you just to check in? ugh he was so--”

“he was really worked up,” prentiss exhaled, “and part of that was our fault. we were tormenting him and we’re sorry.”

“why were you guys teasing--”

“he even lied about you babysitting jack,” morgan remarked, butting in, “when we met in the conference room to discuss the case, he kept saying your name while he was on the phone. we all heard but he was playing it off like you were some ‘shannon’ or something.”

“oh?” rowan arched a brow, “why would he lie--”

“wait,” jj stuck out a hand, her eyes flickering towards rowan’s neck, “is that what i think that is?”

as the pairs of eyes followed jj’s line of sight, rowan shifted uncomfortably, swallowing a lump in her throat, “it’s not what--”

“is that a hickey?” rossi licked his lips, “how in the world did you receive a hickey whilst babysitting? does jack have a biting problem or something?” 

“maybe it was big hotch,” garcia stated, prodding morgan, “not the little one, of course. that would’ve been weird if jack bit her.”

morgan glanced over to hotch’s office, folding his arms across his chest, then returned his focus to rowan, “don’t tell me that he paid you by--”

“i-it was nothing like that,” rowan stammered, tripping over her words, “i stayed at the hotchner residence until aa-hotch returned home from the case. then i promptly went home.”

“so why was your car parked at an open area?” garcia pressed, “when you didn’t come in yesterday morning, i pulled up your location on the gps of your car. it said you were at the park off north and second.”

“that was a halfway point for hotch and i to meet,” rowan bit her tongue, cheeks flushed, “i live forty minutes from here. he didn’t want me to drive.”

“that’s pretty generous for a man like hotch,” morgan mused, “i don’t believe a single word coming from your mouth rivers, i hope you know that.”

“if you guys want the truth,” rowan huffed, “i blacked out the other night, was so hungover i could barely move, and hotch told me he needed a babysitter. i took up the offer because i felt horrible that i couldn’t come in. now, are you guys satisfied or are you going to keep pestering me about a hickey like some stupid high schoolers?”

prentiss inhaled a sharp breath, poised for a retort when a door swinging open startled the mass huddled around the desk, “what is going on here?”

“we were just asking rivers if she was okay sir,” prentiss responded, her tone cool, voice smooth. 

“i’m afraid that we don’t have the time or resources for gossip,” hotch snorted, hands grasping the railing, “everyone, back to your desks this instant. rivers, i need to speak with you in my office.”

“now sir?” 

“now,” his voice rang through the office, eyes hardened into a fiery glare. 

a shudder coursed through rowan as she rose to her feet, shuffling towards his office. the team giggled as they retreated to their desks, unfazed by hotch’s statement. every step was agonizing under his intense stare, the agent nearly cowering in her boots.

yet, the second she was in the office with the door shut, his hands were on hers, intertwining their fingers together. his touch tender, voice lowered to a quiet whisper, “are you okay?”

“besides the relentless teasing i’m fine,” rowan muttered, careful to avoid eye contact.

“welcome to my world for the past twenty four hours,” fingertips brushed her forehead, “i was more concerned if you had a headache or not. i’ve noticed they flare up when you’re anxious or under stress.”

“if this is what’s going to happen every time i watch jack then i’m not doing it anymore.” she mumbled, breaking away from his touch. 

muttering a strand of words, hotch crossed over to his desk, “i mean, you’re not his designated babysitter anyway. you were drunk and i came and got you the night before. nothing more to it. it’s not happening again, anyway.”

rowan flinched, shocked at the venomous barb laced in his words, “but i would miss my new friend, he’s a really good kid, aaron. he’s so sweet. he reminds me of you.”

aaron hotchner nearly cracked, demeanor nearly crumbling down in that moment. 

but he couldn’t. not here. not now. 

clearing his throat, his voice hardened, edged with authority, “it would be best for the both of us if it never happened again.”

“but--” she pleaded, desperate to break him down. to reason with him. 

yet, the damage was already done. 

the unit chief slumped in his chair, not budging one bit, “no. we can’t do that again, okay? it wouldn’t end well.”

tears sprang into rowan’s eyes, her lower lip trembling, “i-i was thinking that i would stay behind with garcia today. after all, i don’t deserve to travel anyways. i lied about a sick day.”

hotch’s head snapped up, pure shock plastered across his features, “rowan it was okay that you--”

“i’m staying behind.”

david rossi sat on the edge of spencer reid’s desk, toying with a pencil, focused on the scene unfolding in aaron hotchner’s office. emily prentiss lurked nearby, pacing back and forth. 

“what could they possibly be talking about?”

“from the look of it, it’s not pretty,” rossi remarked, letting out a sigh, “i think they’re arguing. she’s standing a few feet away from his desk. he seems agitated. his jaw is clenched and he has that little glare when he’s upset.”

morgan took a swig of coffee, “maybe he didn’t use a condom,” 

“oh stop,” penelope swatted him with a stack of papers. 

“no,” rossi shook his head, “trust me, if aaron hotchner got laid, he would look a lot happier than he is right now.”

“do you really think that they hate another?” garcia whined, lips curving into a pout as she nuzzled her head against morgan’s shoulder, earning a peck on the forehead. 

“no. there’s this fondness in his eyes when he looks at her. it tells me everything that i need to know.”

“but rowan is far too intelligent for him,” reid butt in, his book thudding against the wood.

“i don’t think so,” rossi countered, “because i’m pretty sure if she was as smart as you say she is, she wouldn’t fall for a man twice her age. a man who’s going through a messy divorce, at th--”

the door of the office opened, rowan’s lower lip trembling, eyes tinged red with tears. garcia perked up, rossi remaining on the edge of desk, folding a piece of paper. the team was silent as rowan approached them, the brunette sniffling.

“garcia,” the technical anaylst’s name was a broken whimper, “uh, hotch wants me to stay behind with you today.”

“don’t tell me he’s punishing you--” rossi began, swiftly interrupted by garcia.

“okay honey bunny,” garcia chirped, shooting rossi a glare, “i’ll even let you borrow my chair. it’s a little bit more comfy than the others.”

“hey guys,” jj greeted, arms loaded with a stack of manila folders, “i just received the call minutes ago. a department in washington invited us onto a case. we’re about to meet in the conference room.”

garcia wrapped a comforting arm around rowan’s shoulder, “come on love, let’s go meet with the others.”

letting out a shaky breath, rowan followed the rest of the team, mustering every last bit of strength to not crack. to not shed another tear. yet, as she entered the conference room, she could practically feel the heat embedded within his burning stare.

“god,” his breath was hot against her neck, teeth grazing the flesh, “you’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

“a-aaron,” his name dripped from her lips as her fingers laced into his hair, tugging at the roots, “aaron, please, god. don’t stop.”

her back was to the couch, his body hovering over hers, one hand underneath her shirt, resting on her hip, the pad of his thumb brushing the hem of her jeans. every single part of her was hot to the touch, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering, jaw slack as his mouth roamed, savoring every inch of her with his tongue. 

“you like this, don’t you?” he smirked against her skin, “you like when i leave my mark, don’t you baby?”

“god yes,” her nod was meek as he sucked harshly, “p-please don’t stop, aaron.”

“i won’t,” he was panting now, riled up from the heat of the moment, adrenaline pumping through his veins, “i won’t fucking stop.”

“rivers,” her name was spat out, cruel and unforgiving, “do i need to send you home? pay attention.”

blinking, rowan swallowed thickly, cheeks flushing as she noticed the pairs of orbs trained on her, “sorry.”

“jerk,” garcia rolled her eyes, the mutter barely audible. 

aaron continued speaking, discussing the parameters of travel, along with some brief victimology of the murderers. propping her head up with her hand, rowan doodled a few scribbles on the file, completely oblivious to any word flooding her ears, her mind wandering to the memory. 

“wheels up in thirty,” hotch announced, flicking his wrist to check the time, “and rivers, i would like to speak with you.”

“i’m all ears,” the agent exhaled, not breaking away from the doodles as the team filed out from the space, a vicious banter rising among them. 

the unit chief slid into the seat beside her, his hand inching closer and closer to her forearm, “are you okay?”

the brunette recoiled away from his touch, her tone icy cold, “i’m fine.”

“you’re more than welcome to join us,” his voice was gentle, “you don’t have to punish yourself for what happened yesterday. really, it’s fine that you babysat jack. i was more than happy you accepted the offer, actually.”

the brunette didn’t utter a single word, only leaping to her feet. pushing the chair in, she avoided any eye contact, gaze focused on the floor, boots thudding against the surface with every step. 

“well, i already promised garcia that i would be front and center for today. sorry, but i’m going to decline the offer, hotch. thanks though.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“so what’s up with you?” 

aaron hotchner drew in a deep breath, throwing his head against the leather, “morgan, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“all right mr. dark and brooding over there,” prentiss’ voice was light with a mocking tone as she flipped through a page in a magazine, “you look like you saw someone step on a puppy.” 

hotch’s left eye twitched, “i’m upset because we’re missing a member of the team.”

“i don’t think you normally act this way when i’m sick.” a smug smirk painted morgan’s lips as he wrapped headphone cords around his phone, “but perhaps i’m not as important as rivers.”

“yeah, what about the time spencer was shot?” rossi interjected, drumming his fingers along the armrest, “you didn’t seem nearly as distraught then. the poor kid was shot in the damn leg.”

“i was distraught--” 

morgan snickered, taking a bite of a granola bar, “it’s okay to admit you miss rowan, loverboy. we can all tell.”

“we know you like her, hotch,” jj cut in, her voice smooth with satisfaction. 

“she’s annoying.”

aaron almost couldn’t believe the scene that was unfolding before him. 

his team, people he’s worked with for years, people he’s grown to love and care for, were teasing him over a coworker. people who loved to dish out snide and crude remarks constantly to one another but rarely to him, were beginning to catch on. they were nagging him over a coworker. 

a cute coworker, at that. 

a cute coworker who he was beginning to fall for, at that. 

“annoyingly cute,” rossi clasped his hands together, eyes alight with laughter.

“david rossi, so help me god, i will land this jet myself,” he growled, clutching the armrest with an iron grip, “and when i land this jet, i’ll write all of you up for insubordination.” 

“oh? he’s getting defensive now guys, so i must be pushing all the right buttons,” rossi called to the others, earning an eruption of laughter. 

the agent clambered out of his seat, crossing the aisle to hotch. mocha-colored orbs bore into his suit, rossi plucking a strand of hair off the shoulder, inspecting it in the light, “i didn’t know you were a brunette.”

aaron flinched, his heart lurching in his chest, “t-that belongs to jack.”

“the kid is fucking blonde!” prentiss retorted, setting the magazine down on her lap. 

“why don’t you just admit to us that you like her?” morgan pressed, eagerly anticipating hotch’s response.

“i don’t know what you guys are talking about. i can’t stand her,” hotch stumbled over the words, a crimson hue tainting his cheeks. 

“i’m sure that’s why you bring her coffee in the morning,” reid remarked, toying with a game of chess. 

“i’m sure that’s why you always assign her with you,” prentiss chimed in. 

“i’m sure that’s why you started bringing ibuprofen to work,” jj retaliated. 

morgan lifted a leg, crossing them together, “and i’m sure that’s why we have a photo of her sleeping on your lap.”

“w-wait, there’s a photo of that?”

“so he admits it happened,” morgan winked to prentiss, who stifled a giggle. 

“okay that’s it,” hotch tsked, thrusting an index finger at every single member of his team, “none of you are working on the case. you’re all going to wait in the hotel while i handle it all myself.”

“oh, come on hotch!” prentiss gasped, her magazine falling to the floor. 

“i hate to remind you all,” hotch cleared his throat, his tone firm as he spoke, “but we are on a case here. we’re not here to mess around and tease one another. i would appreciate it if you guys weren’t so nosy about my personal life. if i was involved with agent rivers in any way, i would let you guys know. but for now, let’s focus on the case.”

the team fell silent, returning to whatever it is that they were all doing. yet, rossi remained unfazed by hotch’s stern words, mouth curved into a mischievous smile, before dealing out one final blow. 

“i am well aware of the case we’re on. it’s the investigation of whether or not aaron hotchner harbors romantic feelings for rowan rivers.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

rain pattered against the roof of the police station, a huddle of individuals gathered around a singular white board, aaron hotchner watching intently as dr. reid spoke with the cops, providing a clear and concise profile of the unsub, pointing and referring to crime scene photos and the police sketch of the unsub. hotch was vigilant, composed and cool-headed, ready to speak when necessary. 

forks, washington was a quaint town, located off the olympic peninsula. it was a quiet, friendly, place, most commonly known for its deep roots with the logging industry. nothing but endless woods sprawled around the community, making it a perfect location for a serial killer.

there was plenty of space to dump bodies, lots of shrubbery for cover, and little to no interaction with locals. many of them were reserved, not willing to comply with the local police. however, hotch didn’t blame them. 

the bau was on hunt to apprehend a serial killer who happened to post his grisly murders online, for thousands upon thousands of viewers to watch. there were even points in time where there was a live feed, the killer masked, clothed in dark fabric. his motive was unclear, as he had no specific type of victim, and his reasoning for posting the killings online was a mystery. 

which, made it nearly impossible to even make any progress in the case. 

that was until rossi suggested that they fly penelope garcia out to forks. after all, the killer managed to flee his residence after leaking the address. computers was garcia’s niche, where she was most comfortable and knowledgeable. 

and that’s why they needed her. 

yet, hotch’s mind drifted, wandering to another matter. 

it seemed no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he resisted, rowan rivers was on his mind, filling his thoughts. 

the memory of their interaction merely hours ago left an awful taste in the unit chief’s mouth. aaron needed rowan in washington, more than she knew. her cool-head, along with quick-wit was a valuable asset to the flow of the team.

god, did he absolutely loathe the image that was permanently burned in his lids. rowan standing in his office, trembling as the tears streamed down her cheeks, pleading for him to reason with her, begging for him to stop while he was ahead. the aspect that haunted him the most was the hurt in her eyes, her voice cracking with every word.  

god, did he feel so fucking stupid. 

“do you think that they’re on their way yet?” rossi leaned over, the question flooding hotch’s left ear. 

“i’m not sure when they’ll arrive,” the unit chief’s attention traveled to the watch on his wrist, “we only called them a couple of hours ago. it’s a long flight from virginia.” 

“you’re not wrong about that. i miss the kid, really. do you miss her?” 

“is now really the time?” hotch choked back an exasperated sigh, careful not to raise his voice, not to disturb the briefing. 

“you miss her,” rossi affirmed, careful not to crack too broad of a smile, “i know you do.”

“you’re just gloating because we needed garcia,” hotch muttered, “and that meant rowan was going to tag along too.”

“you’re just lucky that we happen to have such an amazing technical analyst,” rossi elbowed hotch playfully, “they should be here any minute now. maybe you should greet her first, hmm? do a little bit of kiss and make up?” 

“rossi--”

“oh look,” rossi nodded his head towards the entrance of the station, “there they are now.”

the second his eyes fell on her, his heart skipped a beat, breath hitching in his throat. 

“excuse me,” hotch stuck out a hand, signaling to the officers and bau members that he was going to step away, “our technical analyst and another agent just arrived. please, continue dr. reid.”

“this place is so dreary,” garcia wrinkled her nose to rowan, whispering. 

the comment earned a quiet chuckle from the agent, “it’s washington penelope, what did you expect?”

“well even the inside of the station is just so--”

“good evening,” the unit chief couldn’t help but crack a smile, placing a tender hand on garcia’s shoulder, “how was the flight?”

“boring,” garcia huffed, whirling around, “and this place? absolutely horrid, hotch. there’s not a single splash of color anywhere! it’s just all depressing and dreadful!”

“well you’ll be happy to know that a lot of your work won’t be at the station. already, we have the unsub’s personal laptop. it’s currently at his residence, but we’ll get it to you in the morning.” 

“oh thank god,” garcia clutched her chest, “how are things going?”

“babygirl!” a gush sounded from a few feet away. 

“excuse me,” garcia beamed, brightening as morgan whistled, “there is a very handsome man waiting for me over there and i feel oh so compelled to greet him.”

rowan’s hands were behind her back, the toe of her right boot drawing lazy circles into the carpet, “hey.”

“hey,” aaron murmured, his hand gravitating towards her shoulder. his thumb flicked back and forth, tracing soothing circles into her shoulder, “are you all right?”

“i wasn’t expecting a trip to washington,” she shrugged slightly, “but i’m here now.”

“we’re finished for the night. reid just delivered the profile to the local p.d.”

“so what now?” rowan inquired, readjusting the strap of her bag. 

“dinner and then some sleep,” he replied, noticing the team trickling away from the conference room, heading towards the exit, “we should catch up. they’re about to leave us.”

“oh shit.”

aaron’s brow furrowed as he noticed the strands of hair clinging to her forehead, soaked and dampened, clothes darkened a shade, “did you forget a coat?”

“we were in a rush,” rowan protested, bringing her arms close to her body as a shudder ran through her body, “is it cold to you in here?”

aaron extended an arm, offering her a beige trenchcoat, “here.”

“what?” rowan’s lips parted with shock, “aaron, please. i-i don’t need a--”

“you’re going to catch a cold,” he took a step behind her, draping the coat around her shoulders, “you’re soaking wet and need to warm up.”

“no i won’t,” her mouth fell into a pout, the lower lip jutting out, “aaron please--”

“take it,” his hands grasped her shoulders, his head hovering just beside her ear, “you need it.”

“thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” his mouth drifted upwards, lips merely inches away from her temple, “let’s meet up with the rest of the team.”

the pair made their way out of the station, the hem of aaron’s coat sweeping against the ground as rowan walked, the arms draping against her sides. his hand lingered on her lower back, guiding her towards the chatter of the team as they loaded up the suburbans, discussing god knows what. 

“the turtle doves have reunited,” morgan taunted, throwing his bag in the trunk, “a lot of us were talking about the plans for dinner, hotch. we’re thinking about just ordering room service or ordering some pizza.”

“have you seen this place?” rowan piped up, “i don’t think the inn has room service dumbass.”

“my favorite agent has arrived,” rossi strutted up to rowan, holding out his fist, “how was the flight kiddo?” 

“i slept the entire time so i feel pretty good,” rowan answered, initiating an intricate handshake with the agent, “really though, what is there to eat around here?”

“i bet hotch has some ideas for dess--” morgan’s voice crescendoed into a grunt as garcia elbowed his side.

“there’s a local diner not too far from here,” reid chimed in, invested in his phone, “i don’t know about you guys, but i’m really craving some key lime pie.”

“i’m with you there!” rowan gushed, “come on guys, let’s go get something to eat.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“so what are we doing for rooms?” rowan turned to rossi, hotch’s coat still draped across her shoulders, “i was hoping that they could squeeze us in for an extra room but it appears that it was too late.” 

“well the plan was for reid and i to share a room, then morgan and hotch. the ladies were just going to be with one another. but it seems now that since you and garcia have arrived, there may be a change of plans.”

“are you serious?” the brunette rolled her eyes as garcia slipped into morgan’s room, “don’t fraternization rules exist in the bureau?”

“sometimes,” rossi’s eyes twinkled with amusement, “but not always in the bau.”

“so what now?” 

“well,” rossi gestured down the hall, “you have a couple of choices. you can room with the ladies, but you’d have to either sleep on the floor or cram into a bed with one of them. or, you have one other option.”

rowan’s focus shifted as she noticed hotch huddled with morgan and reid, his voice a low murmur, “rossi, please don’t tell me--”

“there is one person you could room with.”

“and who would that be?” the brunette deadpanned, her foot tapping against the carpet, arms folded across her chest.  

“the owner of that coat.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

tagged: @sapphicstars​​ @littlevodika​ @colorlessfl0wers​

[ohblackdiamond]

liner notes/unused joke summaries for kiss fics (part iv)

Despite what my general dislike of the shift key and my tendency to mock all that I love might imply, I actually overthink everything I write to a great extent. I make no claims to these explanations being in any way enjoyable, but if you wanted to know what I was thinking while writing KISS fic… now you do. Part one can be found here. Part two is here. Part three is here. 

little t&a --If Paul had boobs, they would be big and Gene would want to grab them.

>>Title from a Rolling Stones song of the same name; most of the chapter titles are from another Stones song, “The Spider and the Fly.” I started it during quarantine as a means to occupy myself and destress, and didn’t initially plan on posting it at all. Once I’d written five chapters without having posted it or mentioned it to anyone, I figured, well, I guess this might as well go somewhere, so I put it up. I had the hope that it’d give me something to strive for during the stress of lockdown, and I’d assumed that I wouldn’t ever have that much time to devote to a story again.

There were a couple of things that really inspired me. I’ve always enjoyed sexswaps as a bit of a guilty pleasure, but wanted to do a different take on them-- there’s this tendency for sexswaps to either be wacky hijinks or an excuse to write particularly brutal noncon. There’s also a tendency for the sexswapped character to almost automatically start adopting stereotypically feminine traits he didn’t have prior, with no real reason for it. I wanted to try and avoid all that as much as possible.

... There’s also another tendency for the sexswapped character never getting back to normal, and I wanted to avoid that, too. I mean, c’mon, KISS is supposed to start the Love Gun tour a month after the fic. Paul can’t exactly pull the trigger of a love taco. (Maybe gently brush it a bit...)

I had Paul already cursed for five days at the start of the fic because I thought it would make things easier and allow the plot to advance more quickly. I also felt like it would give him more autonomy-- prior to Gene showing up, he has tried (albeit in small ways) to get a handle on what’s happened to him, and while he’s hermited it up, he hasn’t given up. Autonomy in general was pretty important for me re: Paul. (Incidentally, probably one of my favorite things about this fic is that Paul’s made that poor twelve-year-old kid on his bike buy him sanitary napkins.)

I wanted to explore a couple of other things, too, mostly rock and roll’s (and KISS’ in particular) pretty heinous treatment of women. Gene and Paul argue in the eighties that groupies know the score from the beginning, and even postulates that those relationships are more “honest” than just taking a girl out to dinner. They’re not alone in this (and, of course, as married men, these days they try not to discuss those times at all); almost every band/artist from around that time period will give you the same answer. “The girls know what they’re doing.” I think many of them did know. I also think many of them came into those hotel rooms expecting a lot more than they ever received, and I think plenty of girls ended up at the very least disappointed by their encounters, if not humiliated or worse.

I don’t know if this was successful, but I also wanted to at least try to poke a few holes in celebrity/idol worship as well. Carol’s scathing comments to Paul-- “they [fans] think there’s something you’ve got that they can get at, but there’s not” pretty heavily exemplify behavior I’ve seen at conventions, fan meet-ups, etc. At the end of the day, well, there’s no point in putting them on much of a pedestal. I dunno. I’ve seen some weird crap in the name of fan worship, in and outside of RPS. Keith Richards talks about it in his book-- girls urinating on themselves out of sheer nerves/excitement just at seeing the band, etc., which, while disturbing, had to have given them a sense of being something beyond ordinary (and act accordingly, of course).

I don’t know. I like them a lot, but I can’t hero-worship these guys; they don’t live in the real world. They’re not, ultimately, relatable or accessible despite the billions of photos, the twitter posts, the meet and greets-- any more than they were 40-odd years ago. I think there can be a real danger in thinking they are. I wanted to show that, too, but again, I don’t know if it came across properly.

One of the aspects I really struggled with was getting a good handle on Paul’s innately slippery sense of identity without it overtaking the story entirely. Gene’s very stable identity was a good foil, and it helped that most of “t&a” is from his point of view, rather than Paul’s.

Another place I faltered with was Paul’s outing alone at CBGB. The first draft had the guy in the club slip quaaludes into his drink, but I really didn’t like that at all and felt it took too much control away from Paul/punished him for going out on his own. I thought it’d be more interesting if Paul deliberately took what he knew was a dangerous combination (alcohol + quaaludes) in the hopes that would make him feel better about sleeping with someone he didn’t care about.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, having him do that (and the way the scene with the guy at the club ends) also meant that I couldn’t have him hop right into bed with Gene that night, either, so that accounts for some of the delaying. I was also really wanting to make sure in general that when Gene and Paul finally did go all the way, there wasn’t any feeling of being coerced or pressured. Not that Gene would do either of those things, but I didn’t want him or Paul to be doing it out of any feeling of obligation or hurry; I wanted it to be as natural as possible, under the circumstances. And I wanted, again, Paul’s dubious sense of self and Gene’s ambiguous feelings about Paul(’s boobs) to come into play-- yes, Paul, now you, too, can take Gene on the amazing technicolor dreamdate you’ve been fantasizing about for the last seven years! Or, you know, not. Overall, there are some pacing issues and the story slows down considerably after Gene takes Paul home from CBGB, but I like to hope that most of the scenes add something.

There were a couple of secondary plotlines that got scrapped because I couldn’t get them to fit well enough with the narrative. One of them was Paul’s very troubled relationship with his sister, Julia. There’s a fair amount of references to her scattered throughout, and Paul brings her up on several occasions, generally without much provocation, and generally at mildly odd moments (at Central Park and immediately after getting drawn by Gene being the standouts). There was an initial draft of the chapter in which Ace calls Paul, where Julia’s the one calling Paul instead (after having gotten his number from their parents). I wanted to at least get the start of a reconciliation going between them. Ultimately I scrapped it because I couldn’t get it to flow with the main plot and never felt like I’d ever explored it thoroughly enough for it to be worth a detour.

The comparison between Paul and Carol is pretty blatantly obvious, even in the narrative. Paul and Gene both recognize it (Gene, initially, when he notes that Carol doesn’t seem to belong at 54 any more than Paul does), and it makes them highly uncomfortable. (Mary-Anne, Carol’s friend, also notices it-- “she [Paul] reminds me of Carol. Just pitiful.”) They’re both very shy, insecure people that have thrust themselves into a world they’re not naturally suited for (show business) in order to achieve their own ends. They’ve both put great stock in a single person who helped them (inadvertently or not) during a dark time, and are driven by those feelings, despite knowing that person is out of reach.

Physically, they’re intentionally mostly opposite (Carol’s short, with a slight build, lighter hair, blue eyes, vs. Paul being, well, Paul-- tall, fuller build, black hair, brown eyes). But narratively speaking, neither of them are described as beautiful; “cute” and “kind of pretty,” sure, but nothing past that (except when Gene says it towards the end). That was important, too, for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to further the comparison between them; two, I wanted to at least try and dispel the idea that all groupies were glamorous; many of them were rather ordinary-looking.

Paul not being “playboy material as a girl” was very deliberate. I feel like a lot of sexswaps tend to make the guy in question end up a ridiculously hot babe, which didn’t quite jive with what I was going for (not that I wanted Paul to end up awful-looking, but...). ... He’s probably hotter than he thinks he is though; at least, Gene didn’t mind at all, and Pete thought he was pretty. I wanted him to be recognizable if one knew where to look (face, body language). I didn’t want him to end up a tiny, frail-looking waif-- given what he looks like as a dude, that didn’t make sense to me. So this meant the less perfect attributes had to stay and carry over to a female body. He ended up with big boobs because... well, honestly because if he wasn’t going to end up with a great figure overall, he might as well have great boobs. And I mean, really, his chest’s already pretty all right as-is.

I didn’t want there to be a love triangle, but I did want it obvious, at least in an offhand way, that Peter and Paul had had sex (Ace mentions it in the car with Peter, with his “how long did it take you”). I wanted to incorporate Ace and Peter to as great an extent as possible in general.

Marbas is an actual demon from The Lesser Key of Solomon, although other than the few sentences Paul reads off from that grimoire, there’s not much more information on him to be found. 

[nad-zeta]

Match up! (◠‿◠✿)

hiya!! can i pls get a matchup for ikesen, if its ok? 💞

bi girl i prefer guys! ambiverted intp, gryffindor, n true neutral. i have an older twin sis n i love/hate her sm lmao!!

i have medium-length straight-ish black hair (w/ a side bang to the right) & dark brown eyes!! im 5'5-ish, fun fact: im a filipina!

sooo im a complex daydreamer!! i NEED attention/affirmation or ill feel unwanted/sad. emotional scorpio, im quite sensitive. anxiety, i overthink too much! quiet w/ people im not close w/. easily annoyed but guilty after ‘cause im soft-hearted. im like half funny/playful/kind & half deep/mature/awkward- hopeless romantic! i have a way w/ words, sorta poetic? i wanna be the best! sorta socially anxious, i have a fear of judgement. im not innocent but ppl think i am at first. i look fine but deep down im a big mess. rlly smart & knowledgable. vv passionate, big nerd actually! im like a kid w/ my twin but w/ others im more mature. im the type to do fun stuff and loosen up but would also just cuddle and have long convos. im vv good w/ technology! very imaginative, i come up with stories a lot- around others im very quiet because i literally have no idea what to say. actually a big history fanatic, hehe. i act confident but im not rlly, actually vv insecure and i regret a lot of things.

a habit of mine is that i tend to drift away and just… think? i also tend to care a lot abt my appearance! i get competative but there are also times when im just chill. i get vv embarrassed when i lose control tho n i regret it sm :(( i have loads of trouble asking for help even if i like to help others a lot! i like being organised but i tend to be… chaotic.

hsjsh- fun fact: there are times where im just,, super hyper n say the weirdest things? im good in school but,, im lazy yknow- i love math (surprisingly, i got a natural talent?), science (esp abt stars n space), history, and english (actually my 2nd languange but im very fluent) the most. bilingual but im also learnin french! wanna learn latin too tho but id break down- i have the fear of the unknown, failure, n loneliness! im scared of the future cause its beyond human ability to know,, the only guys ive rlly talked to r family members so my awkwardness goes 100x hsjsjs

oh, i rlly love affection, but i need a lot of space too, tho! girls gotta have privacy- games r a hUge part of my life, so is technology and the modern era! i actually like sports too- not very good at em tho :((

some likes: gaming, jokes (esp corny/stupid/puns), space, stars, weapons (esp swords/guns), philosophy, psychology, testing myself, affection, animals, doing exhilirating things, music, movies, books, writing, astrology, astronomy, learning new things, & mythology.

some dislikes: too much heat, school presentations, creepy dolls, being under pressure, dirty things, blind faith, & annoying people.

tysm! omg i hope this isnt too long- i think this is too long?? yIkes i hope that this is ok!! love ur writing btw! stay safe 💞

Hi hi love! thank you so much for the request! You sound like a wonderful person and omw it soooo cool that you have a twin! I actually think she sent in a request right after you did lol! Anyways sorry for making you wait sooooo long and i hope you enjoy it! @x-joie-x

 So i match you with...................... Mitsuhide

The first time you meet this sneki boy, you were quiet and reserved. War council had just ended and you were named as a princess of the Oda forces. You were super socially awkward, and anxiety was slowly starting to creep in, as the curious warlords started to surround you. It wasn’t until Mitsuhide had pulled you away in a teasing manner to save you from the crowd that you finally started to calm down. He had noticed this new little mouse had been on edge since arriving. However, he didn’t suspect you of being an assassin or spy as, during the whole council, your hands shook, and you could barely speak up against Nobunaga’s demanding and commanding tones. 

Mitsuhide had found you incredibly amusing from the first moment you walked in, you caught this foxes eye. He didn’t know if it was the innocence or naïve purity that just seemed to radiate from you, but for some reason when he was looking at you, he found that he simply couldn’t look away.

It took all of one day for all the warlords to officially drop all suspicions of you. You were just such a sweetheart how could they not instantly love you and feel the need to protect you. You had started helping a few of the maids that first morning after you were named princess. You didn’t want to be a freeloader, so you worked hard to earn your keep and soon, the maids were fighting over who would get to work with you cause all of then just loved and adored you so much. 

You got annoyed with Hideyoshi when he first found you helping the maids, as he was 100% started micromanaging you. You lost you cool and raised your voice at him, TBH Hideyoshi didn’t think anything of it, but it wasn’t until you had pitched up at his manor an hour later to apologize for being so rude to him that he realized what a sweet and sensitive person you truly were. Of course from that moment onward you had gained yourself a big doting brother.

All the Oda forces agreed that you were too sweet and naïve for your own good, so Mitsuhude was assigned to give you princess lesson to prepare you for your new life as Oda princess. You were super excited when Mitsuhide had told you that he was going to teach you a variety topics such as economics, politics, history and self-defence. You even managed to impress the sneki boy, by getting all the questions correct on the first test he had handed you. You had found that first test incredibly easy as you were a bit of a history buff, and all the questions had been based on Nobunaga’s history. This low key shook the sliver kitsune a little bit, as this proved that not only were you pure and naive but you were also super smart. You kind of reminded him a little bit of Mitsunari, a cleaver professor with their head in the clouds. 

Mitushide praised you for your ability to pick up on concepts quickly and work diligently as a student, “I dare say little one, you are the best student a teacher could ask for.” You spend masses amount of time with sneki boi, and through that time you realized just how sweet Mitsuhide truly was, although he was a massive tease leaving you a blushy mess almost every day after lessons with his teasing comments. And naturally, the more time Mitsuhide had spent with you, the more in love he fell. It was also noted by the fellow warlords that, Mitsuhide always wore a soft gentle expression when it came to you, and in your experience he had been a kind gentle patient teacher. SO naturally you found yourself more and more drawn to this mysterious man.

Through all the time spent with the kitsune, you found yourself opening up more and more. He was one of the few people that got to see your playful side. You now would make the puniest, corniest jokes he has ever heard, leaving this kitsune in a fit of laughter mid-way through a lecture. Not only that, but he loved loved loved your competitiveness side. 

This side of you slowly started to surface after the 3rd or 4th self-defence lesson when you started challenging the kitsune to rematches whenever he would pin you down, ultimately beating you in your little makeshift sword fight. Boy oh boy, don’t even get me started on the shooting lessons, once you were able to fire the rifle, you were straight-up challenging this boy, the best marksmen around to a shoot-off. “Come on Mitsuhide, the first one to get 100 bulls-eyes in a row wins, and the loser has to buy tea.” Needless to say, you always lost and even though every day you would make that exact bet, Mitsuhide would always insist on sticking you for tea and lunch as reward for being such a good student. 

He really enjoyed spending time with you and would absolutely insist on holding your hands whenever the two of you were on your way to the tea house together after your lessons. “I can’t have my clumsy little mouse tripping and falling now can I.” Every day without fail, he would say that to you as he wraps his big hand around your small one, while leading you to your favourite tea house.

The two of you would talk about everything and anything over tea, these topics ranged from you making stupid jokes, to talking about random topics such as philosophy and psychology. Either way, Mitsuhide loved to spend time with you. He would always listen to and hang on to every word you said, storing every word in his memory. 

You were his precious little mouse, and he knew you were an extremely sensitive creature. If anyone dared say a single bad word to you or make you sad, they would face the wrath of this very protective kitsune. Like one time, one of the visiting daimyos had talked down to you for accidentally bumped into him. You were busy cleaning the windows when you accidentally lost your balance and bumped into him. He was so disgusted that a mere maid had touched him. He started yelling at you and insulting you, this escalated to such a point that he even had his hand raised ready to hit you for getting dirty window water on his shoes. That’s when sneki boi decided to intervene. Mitsuhide legit stood protectively in front of you with his rifle pointed at the man’s heart, with the full intention to shoot. “Golly me it appears like you are quite the troublesome little mouse, my dear.” He then turned his sharp gaze towards the daimyo “I do suggest you apologize to the Oda princess, lest you want to answer for your crimes directly to Nobunaga.” The man simply scoffed and walked away. Mitsuhide then turned to you and enveloped you in a warm hug while kissing the top of your head, “Are you alright, my dear little mouse?” Mitsuhide looked into your beautiful eyes and gently took your hands in his, “Come little one, I have something I wish to show you.”

The two of you walked hand in hand to Mitsuhide’s manor, Mitsuhide led you out into his garden, where you saw something so beautiful you could cry. The garden was filled with flowers and candles and in the centre was a table set up, with a feast laid out op top of it. 

Mitsihide had told you that night that he was hopelessly in love with you. He was overjoyed when he had discovered that you like him, was also a hopeless romantic and that you had an incredibly poetic, romantic way with words. You handed him a letter in which you had expressed your feelings for him in the form of a beautifully written poem. You were actually intending to leave the poem on his desk as a way of confessing your feelings. This instantly melted sneki bois heart into a giant puddle and he couldn’t help but pull you in for a sweet kiss. 

After diner Mitsuhide had led you deeper into the garden where a fluffy blankie was sprawled out on the grass, he guided you to sit down and the motioned for you to lookup. Above you, a thousand stares were shooting across the sky in a big meteor shower. Mitsuhide pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheeks as the two of you watched the sky. He always remembered every detail you had told him about yourself, so when you revealed that you loved the sky and the stars, he knew he had to incorporate this rare meteor shower in your date somehow. 

This had sparked a new tradition between the two of you, to stargaze and spend the whole night in deep conversation. These nights were full of love and affection as Mitsuhide would pull you into his lap and just hold you there for hours and hours as the two of you talked and watched the sky

Of course sneki boi also had a bit of a spontaneous side, and would take you on exhilarating trips around Nobunaga’s territories. They were mostly missions but after you had nagged Nobunaga to give you permission to go along on the missions, you and Mitsuhide would finish the official work asap so that the two of you cuties had plenty of time to enjoy yourself in the new environment.

Mitsuhide loves everything about you from your slight messiness, to your love of learning new things. He also knows that his sweet little mouse sometimes needs some space and alone time and will be sure to give you as much alone time as you need to recharge. He knows that you will seek him out when you have had enough of your own company. He will always welcome you back with outstretched arms when you have had enough alone time, and shower you with endless amounts of affection.

Whenever you are feeling insecure or worrying about the future Mitsuhide is right there by your side, whispering words of affection and reassurance in your ears. He makes sure to remind you every day just how perfect you are and just how much he loves you. 

Often you can be found in sneki boys lap with your head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as he soothingly strokes your hair. Don’t be surprised if this sneaky kitsune drops a few kissed on your nose, cheeks or lips during these quiet and peaceful moments, just as a way to convey how much he loves and adores you.

Other potential matches……………..Masamune 

I hope you enjoyed it dear and i hope you have the best day! 

[shireviews]

“painter of the night” (야화첩)

by byeonduck

“Na-kyum is a young painter with an exceptional talent: creating erotic images of men. Though he has published a few collections under a pseudonym, he has decided to quit painting. Then Seungho, a young nobleman, barges into his life. A hell-raiser notorious for his insatiable lust, Seungho forces Na-kyum to become his private painter. However, the nights that await Na-kyum are beyond anything he could have imagined.”

status: ongoing

warnings⚠️: kidnapping, rape

this is literally like every asian historical drama ever but 50 shades of GAY

tldr

✨the plot✨

one night, our resident orphaned, high-functional alcoholic, nakyum is given a job offer by our resident sodomy-loving lord seungho for his UNIQUE ability to paint hentai erotica that ERECTS SEUNGHOS LOINS! however, nakyum declines, makes excuses, and gets a guy killed all because he is a ･ﾟ✧*changed*✧･ﾟ man and does not paint that absurdity anymore.

does seungho listen? of course not, this is a yaoi.

so lo and behold, nakyum is kidnapped and forced to watch and paint seungho and his plus one jihwa get it on. but when nakyums refusal to paint becomes a problem for seungho and his ding-a-ling, mega-nerd jung inhun is introduced as leverage. why? because softboi nakyum adores inhun and would do anything to see his teacher’s political career pop off; even paint seungho and his mega schlong. 

however! more! drama! ensues! when we learn that inhun is the reason nakyum stopped painting. but if stop painting he remains, then undoubtedly would inhuns non-existent career be ruined by seungho, and nakyum loves his teacher way too much for that to happen. 

the painting sessions then begin to involve NAKYUM ON SEUNGHO action which threatens and angers seunghos plus one jihwa cough irrelevant cough enough to put out a hit on nakyum. so yeah season 1 ends with an assassin coming 4 nakyums a$$ and inhun finding out and calling nakyum a prostitute.

hooray for season 2

✨the character development✨

yoon seungho

this man went from pegging 5+ men in one night theres a reason ho is in his name to ONLY pegging nakyum on the reg if thats not character dev idk what is 

at least theres consent in season 2 

baek na-kyum

he cries so damn much but i mean given his circumstances it could be worse. idek what to say about character development for nakyum like the only thing that develops is his endurance to seunghos bullshit so i mean theres that 

it’ll come to me later i swear

jihwa

hoe

jung in-hun

he was a tolerable character but gradually got worse and worse if they dont bury this silly mofo in season 2

he couldnt take the hint for like 90% of season 1 and when he finally did, had the audacity to call nakyum a prostitute like homie that is not the move -- he is the whole reason why your literature and career is even being CONSIDERED atm and you go and call him a whore great work

✨the porn✨

censoring system: light sabers

first smut scene: chapter 1 they said yall wanna see sum real speed

favorite smut scene: chapter 45 the consent is immaculate

least favorite smut scene: they were all okay

i will now proceed to summarize my analysis of every single smut scene in this yaoi 

meat and ren can suck it

🔞 = major smut scenes

chapter 1 + 2: 

sudden, not an actual smut tbh u just see images of seungho blowing/pegging his plus one 

chapter 3 + 4:

first scene!

pegging galore god

multiple rounds seungho said STAMINA

imagine getting that horny from a bunch of pictures cant relate

chapter 8:

orgy gone wrong

chapter 9:

orgy gone right

nakyum beats his meat

chapter 13 + 14 + 15:

nipples, blowjobs, fingering, multiple positions

plus one gets jealous lmfao

chapter 16:

nakyum x seungho omg periodt pooh

🔞chapter 20 + 21:

NAKYUM X SEUNGHO PERIODT

technically rape since nakyum thinks hes doing it with inhun learned sir poor babe

hes enjoying it (???) 

lord

he remembers NOTHING LMFAOAOAO

🔞chapter 25 + 26:

we’re border lining killing stalking rape god this is not how you recover memory loss seungho

hes enjoying it (???^#!!#$^&&%%$)

we all hate seungho whats new

chapter 27 + 28:

follow up blowjob but dont get caught by inhun wowza

this is oral rape oh my god

🔞chapter 31 + 32:

nakyum x seungho development we love to see it

less rape more noncon

they’re enjoying it 

multiple rounds and positions they said FLEXIBILITY AND STAMINA

SEUNGHOS MASSIVE HORSE SCHLONG SENT NAKYUM INTO A FEVER LMFAOAOAOAO

chapter 36 + 37:

less rapey blowjob for NAKYUM THIS TIME LESGOO

squishy seungho cheeks and not the ass cheeks

chapter 39:

the ancient version of public sex

🔞chapter 42:

nakyum initiated it this time omg what he did get slapped tho

yea nakyum is a sex crier

fin.

✨the v✨

this was the second yaoi i read and although better than killing stalking imo, it still retains that rapey energy so uh 

i first read this in april and as of writing this in late july, out of all the yaois ive read in those three months, painter of the night still remains one of my favorite art styles. literally nothing drawn in this style can be ugly.

also fun fact, i binge read the first season of painter of the night in like a day and the ENTIRE time i was listening to mayday by crush ft. joy and now i cannot listen to that song without associating it with seungho and his horse sized manhood good day and good night

🦋 make your puthy throb percentage: 96%

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//Fourteen

Request: Hi. I was wondering if you could do a Sweet Pea or Fangs, or Reggie, I don't know if you write for him, one where they have a girlfriend and the reader is their best friend and has a crush on them but they don't know and they see reader with someone else and they get jealous and then they and the reader get together? 🖤

“Reginald! Today is your lucky day.” You caught up with him as you walked down the corridor. 

“Why? What stupid thing have you got planned?” He asked narrowing his eyes. 

“Me? Have something stupid planned?” You feigned offense. “I’d do know such thing. But I do have a free house tonight so we can practice backflipping off the roof. You were so close last week. Oh, and by me, I mean you, and by backflipping I mean falling.” You added and he nodded. 

“I’ll look forward to it.” He laughed and you smiled at him. 

“Great! I’ll see you at 7.” You told him and walked towards your class. 

“Actually!” He called after you. “Can we do it another time? I just remembered I’ve got a date with Layla tonight.”

“Err. Sure.” You agreed and smiled at him. 

“Thanks. You’re the best!” He smiled brightly at you before walking to his own class. 

“Yep. The best.” You muttered and walked into the classroom. You and Reggie had been friends since you were both 12. He’d drawn something very rude and very anatomically incorrect in your notebook, so you hit him with it and you both ended up in detention together. By the end of it you had become best friends and nobody had been able to break that. That was until Layla turned up. Layla was perfect for Reggie, and everything you weren’t. They had met in biology at the beginning of the year when they were paired up for a project and you had to listen to Reggie flirt with her using science terminology, which was just painful. But what you wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end of those pick up lines. 

You had liked Reggie since your fourteenth birthday. Everybody had forgotten, even your parents. He was the only one that had remembered and so he did anything and everything to make it the best birthday ever. Which he did, and he gave you the best birthday present. Which wasn’t the newest album of your favourite band. It was your first kiss. Reggie had had his a few weeks earlier with some girl he met at one of his parents business parties. All of your friends had either kissed someone or they were telling people they had so you were the odd one out and you were freaking out. So Reggie offered to be your first kiss to get it over with. 

He actually made it very romantic for a fourteen year old boy. Well as romantic as Reggie Mantle got. He turned the fairy lights on in your room and put your favourite song on before kissing you sweetly. It was the most magical thing you had ever experienced and you were disappointed when he pulled away. He had burped straight after kissing you so that took some of the magic away but it was still there. The teeny, tiny spark that started your affection towards Reggie. Not that he’d ever see you as anything more than a friend. 

Now he had a girlfriend and you were still as single as ever. He of course spent more time with his girlfriend than he did with you, you understood that, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less when he choose to hang out with her over you. 

It had been a few weeks since the backflipping incident and you felt like you hadn’t seen Reggie in forever. Whenever you asked to hang out he was either busy with Layla or his other friends and you had big news to tell him. You were going on a date. With an actual cute guy. 

Sweet Pea had asked you out during lunch last week. You were originally going to turn him down politely, but when you looked across the lunch hall to see Reggie looking awfully close (too close in a lunch hall if you were being honest) you decided what would be the harm in saying yes. Sweet Pea was cute, and hot as hell. So you agreed and he smiled brightly at you. 

You knew that Reggie and Sweet Pea had had their differences in the past, but that was all water under the bridge now, so you knew he’d be happy that you were going on a date. He always joked about how single you were. 

You were halfway through the date, and enjoying every single second of it. Sweet Pea was funny, kind and very sweet, which made you happy that he lived up to his name. He was also incredibly attractive, however you couldn’t get a certain footballer out of your head. This was made worse when he walked through the doors of Pops, with Layla following behind. He saw you across the room and looked at you confused before he connected the dots in his head and he smiled at you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively making you roll your eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Sweet Pea asked and you snapped your attention back to him. 

“Yeah. Reggie just walked in and he was being his usual stupid self.” You laughed and he smiled.  

“I’m gonna go pee and then we can get dessert if you want?” He asked and you nodded. “Great! I’ll be back soon.” He smiled at you before walking away. You looked around Pops, your eyes landing on Reggie who was glaring in your direction. 

“What?” You mouthed and he shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. Layla said something to him and he turned his attention back to her. 

‘you okay?’ You text him and he looked at you confused. 

‘yeah. why woudn’t i be?’ 

‘you were staring at me’ 

‘i just didn’t think sweet pea would be your type’ He text back and you furrowed your eyebrows. 

‘what do you think my type is?’ You asked. 

“You ready for dessert?” Sweet Pea asked with a bright smile and you placed your phone on the table. 

“Yeah!” You replied enthusiastically. 

“Great! I was thinking we could get one to share...if you want.” 

“I’d love that.” 

“Okay.” He nodded. “What do you want?” 

“Surprise me. I like literally everything here.” 

“Same.” He laughed and went to the counter. He came back a few minutes with some more drinks and you laughed and joked while you waited for the dessert to arrive. Once it did you smiled at him and he looked at you confused. “What?” He asked. 

“You got my favourite.” You told him. 

“No way.” He shook his head. 

“Way.” 

“Its my favourite too,” 

“Its like we’re made for each other.” You joked and he laughed. The slamming of a fist on a table made you jump and you both looked to find the source. Your eyes widened when you realized it was Reggie. 

“Is he okay?” Sweet Pea asked and you shrugged. 

“I dunno. Is it okay if I see if he’s alright?” 

“Of course.” He smiled at you and you returned it before standing up and making your way towards him. Layla shoved past you, tears flowing down her face and you’re pretty sure she cursed you as she passed you. This just made you even more confused. 

“Are you okay?” You asked and sat opposite Reggie. 

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and you raised an eyebrow. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“Now, there’s just something that doesn’t make me quite believe that. It could be the fact that you’re about to bend the fork in your hand, or that you’re gonna grind a hole in your teeth if you keep clenching them that hard. So come on, tell me whats bothering you.” You placed a hand on his and he looked at your touching hands before back at you. 

“You were my first kiss.” He admitted and you laughed. 

“Wait. You’re being serious?” You asked and he nodded “Sorry.” You apologized. “I thought that girl from that party was.” 

“Nope. I only said that so you’d think I was cool.” 

“Why would you do something like that?” You laughed awkwardly. 

“Because I liked you.” He mumbled. 

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “You liked me?” 

“Like.” 

“What?” 

“I like you. Present tense. I don’t think I ever stopped. I just pushed it down because I thought you’d only see me as a friend and thats fine if you do. I get that. Its just, seeing you with Sweet Pea made me jealous and then I remembered my feelings for you and I got overwhelmed. I’m sorry.” He rambled and you stared at him shocked. “Oh by the way I think I’m single now.” 

“I like to too.” You admitted and he locked eyes with you. 

“Are you being serious?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Deadly. I’ve liked you since my fourteenth birthday.” You smiled at him. 

“Wow. Great. I, err. Usually I’m really smooth but there’s just something about you that makes me so awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Hey Y/n.” Sweet Pea said and you mentally cursed. You’d kinda forgot that you were on a date with someone, and so had Reggie judging by the expression on his face. “The desserts getting col-wait. Am I interrupting a moment here?” He pointed between the two of you and your intertwined finger. 

“I’m so sorry Sweet Pea.” You cursed yourself and gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Its fine. I’m still kinda caught up on someone.” He sighed. “You guys are cute together, I’ll see you around.” He shrugged. “’Ive already paid so you don’t need to worry about it. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He waved at the two of you awkwardly before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving. 

“Well. Tonights been a disaster.” You sighed and sat back. 

“Not all of it.” Reggie shrugged. “I’ve just found out that the prettiest girl in Riverdale has liked me since we were fourteen.” 

“True.” You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “The feelings and age thing, not the pretty thing.” You said and he shook his head. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?” 

“I thought you’d never ask Mantle.” You agreed, smiling at him brightly. “Maybe not here though.” 

[yoon-kooks]

Two Tones of a Tabby- pt.I

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Bildungsroman, Idol!Taehyung 

Summary: Upon graduating from university, you embark on your first and last summer adventure to explore the wonders of the world with complete independence before becoming confined to a cubicle when autumn begins. But as fate would have it, a chance encounter with a troubled idol in search of his own kind of freedom threatens the solo aspect of your trip. 

Word Count: 2.4k 

Parts: I II III IV V

A/N: this was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but i guess itll be another series instead (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻  and im screaming at myself for being extra enough to write bildungsroman as the genre. it’s basically just a fancy term for coming-of-age and the longest word in my vocabulary LMAO.

T is for Taehyung 

“travel diary entry #1- it’s 5pm, been stuck at incheon since like 6 in the morning and nothing remotely interesting has happened because this is a fucking airport. if there’s one more flight delay, i think i’m going to combust.”

With a sigh, you drop your pen between the first two pages of your journal to reveal a red cover with tiny tigers running across it. The first spontaneous purchase of your vacation is already proving its worth through the countless flight delays you’ve had to endure thus far. Your mother would’ve told the younger version of yourself not to waste money on a journal at an overpriced airport kiosk unless you were going to write in every single page from beginning to end. Maybe you wouldn’t have made use of such a sentimental object as a child, but as time went on, you’ve grown. Besides, no one’s here to stop you and your rash decisions. You’re on your own.

Or so you think.

All at once, a rush of humans and cameras flood the airport walkway that had been otherwise quiet for the past 11 hours. You notice some young folks get up from their seats with their phone cameras ready to get a better view of whoever it is. A celebrity? You’d get up off your ass to check out what the big deal is, but honestly, you have no idea what all the youngsters are into nowadays. Maybe that’s your own fault for paying more attention to your studies and workload than pop culture and current events. So you decide to stay back and eat your slice of pizza that had gone cold as you were busy writing.

Even from afar, you can see the huge moving cluster of people and bombardment of camera flashes. Is that even legal? Does personal space not exist when you’re a celebrity? Do celebrities ever grow tired of not being able to live freely? Those are the thoughts you have as you munch on your dinner.

Mid-bite, you watch as a black mullet pops up from the crowd with a few sleepy waves. You could swear, for just an instant, he makes eye contact with you, the only person sitting that far away from the chaos. His dark eyes reflect something more—something beyond what the rest of his nonchalant body language shows. With half of your pizza hanging out of your mouth, you give him a polite wave with crumby fingers, although you’re sure he had already looked away by then.

And just like that, the airport finds peace once more. You wonder if you should pull out your journal and write another entry about your fateful encounter with an unknown celebrity who accidentally made eye contact with you for 0.3 seconds.

Beep! “Attention: Now boarding, Flight 1230.” You leap off your seat as soon as you hear that your flight hasn’t been delayed for the thousandth time. Checking twice to make sure you aren’t leaving any of your belongings behind, you lug your carry-on bag with you to the boarding area.

Finally, your solo trip has begun.

Once you’re settled into your seat on the plane, you try to remember what the fuck you were thinking about before boarding. Ah yes, your eye contact with Mr. Celebrity. How could you forget?

You dig through your bag and pull out your tiger journal. For a good minute, you just stare at it, having an internal debate on whether or not to waste a page on another dumb event at the airport. Nah. It’s too late now. Maybe if he was a celebrity you knew, your heart would’ve leapt, and only then would it be worth recording into your journal. But you’d rather leave space for memories that perhaps hold more weight to you.

All that remains engraved in your mind from the occurrence are the boy’s eyes. They were fill with darkness as if they were hiding a secret of some sort, and he had awfully beautiful eyelashes that could be seen from a mile away. So for the sake of it, you draw just his eyelashes, which look mildly creepy on their own beneath your entry on the flight delays.

For the rest of the flight, you try to rid yourself of that one instance and get some rest, but for some reason, it’s more difficult than it should be. As much as you’d like to think of yourself as someone with a carefree personality, little things like this actually bug you quite a bit.

Something about the whole thing is unsettling. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the bombardment of cameras, the lack of personal space, the troubled look in the boy’s eyes, or the fact that that was the most action you’d gotten all day. But nonetheless, something just feels off.

Perhaps the only way you’re able to find peace is by telling yourself that there’s nothing you can do about it. The boy doesn’t know you, you don’t know him, and that’s that. You just want to enjoy your trip and not have to worry about anything—especially not a boy.

So you close your eyes and dream of all the yummy food you’ll eat over the course of your adventures. That's the only travel plan you have so far. Everything else will happen as it comes.

-

After the long flight, the first thing you do is stretch and breath in some fresh air. The sky is blue and the morning sun is radiating down on your jet-lagged body. As much as you’d love to find a hotel to rid yourself of your bulky luggage and take a nap, you don’t have time for that. You’re eager to explore, and that alone is already more than enough to energize your mind and soul.

You wander around the streets in search of the no.1 thing on your mind: food. Rather than use a GPS or Yelp, you leave it up to your intuition and stomach. And somehow, you’re led into an empty café with fancy coffees and desserts.

To give off the least amount of touristy vibes, you shove your luggage beneath the table for two and begin to browse your food options. You lowkey want to eat everything that’s pictured on the menu, but you have to remind yourself that you still have a long trip ahead of you, so there’ll most definitely be plenty of other opportunities for good food. After careful consideration, you settle on an iced mocha and a slice of strawberry sponge cake. A caffeine and sugar rush can’t hurt.

As you wait for your food, you wonder why the café is so empty. Perhaps it has a bad review on Yelp and you would’ve known that if you’d just checked your phone. Maybe the food quality is shit, or maybe the service is terrible, or maybe they know something that you don’t. Oops.

But it takes less than five minutes for your food to be served with Instagram-quality presentation. The strawberry sponge cake looks moist and delicate with pink flower sprinkles that glisten in the sunlight, and the mocha has a cute kitten drawn on the handcrafted foam. But to be honest, you kind of care more about the taste—which is also surprisingly quite delicious by your standards.

You suppose you shouldn’t worry as long as the food tastes good, so you pull out your journal again and write another entry as you enjoy your breakfast.

“travel diary entry #2: got off the plane, stopped at a cute café with no one in it, which is lowkey shady, but whatever. the food tastes good lol. oh and the mocha has a kitten drawn on it to match the tigers on this journal. is this what they call fate?? LMAO jkjkjkjkjk-”

“I’ll order what that customer is eating—except no coffee, please,” a soft and mellow voice interrupts your train of thought. You had been so absorbed in your food and writing that you didn’t realize another customer had appeared. Maybe the café isn’t so shady after all. Your intuition hasn’t failed you.

As you take a sip of your mocha, you casually glance over at the table across from where you’re seated and nearly spit out your entire drink—not because it tastes bad, but because you recognize the long eyelashes. It’s the eyelash boy from the airport.

Between bites of your cake, you keep sneaking peeks at the boy, who’s actually a lot more handsome now that you can see his features up close. With his loosely styled hair, his expensive yet questionable taste in fashion, and his gorgeous looks, there’s no doubt he holds some sort of fame status.

Apparently you’ve stared for too long because he catches you and deadass rolls his eyes. As if you’re doing something wrong.

“If you’re waiting for an autograph or something, you aren’t getting one,” he finally says to you. An autograph? You don’t even know who the fuck this guy is, and he thinks you want his autograph?

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyes at the celebrity.

“I know you’re one of the fans from the airport. You waved at me with pizza hanging out of your mouth.” You’re half embarrassed by the fact that he witnessed The Great Pizza Incident, and half offended by the fact that he called you a “fan”. Because you’re certainly no fan of his.

“Last time I checked, I was sitting at this café before you, so there’s no need for you to assume I’m one of your crazed fans who follow you around everywhere.”

“And yet, somehow out of all the places in the world, you happen to travel to the same exact city as me,” he scoffs. “Don’t pretend like this is a coincidence.” His thick-skulled ass doesn’t believe you, and you can’t believe it. What did you do to deserve this?

“If you think I somehow found your schedule and took this vacation for the sole purpose of seeing my favorite celebrity, then you’re either paranoid or way too conceited,” you say. “I don’t even know who you are, or why there were so many fans chasing you around the airport. I’m just here to enjoy my trip, so leave me the fuck out of your problems.” It comes out a little harsher than you’d like, but hopefully it’ll get the point across that you aren’t a fan blinded by love.

Out of shock, the boy just blinks at you. He’s probably not used to being scolded straight to his pretty face. But he deserved it, and to your surprise, he apologizes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take out my frustrations on you,” he pulls back and bites his lip, “especially when you chose to stay away from the airport chaos.” At least he’s willing to own up to his mistakes.

“It’s fine… I’m not actually that mad… I just didn’t want to be wrongly accused of being a stalker, you know?” You soften your expression to ease the tension. “Besides, I’m sure it happens to you all the time.”

He nods in silence as he stares down at his strawberry cake. It seems celebrities do get overwhelmed and sick of living with no privacy. Maybe this boy just happens to have reached his tipping point.

“Look, I’m sorry you have to deal with constant bullshit like that. Everyone deserves the freedom and space to do whatever they wish (as long as it’s legal),” you say, finishing off your last bite of cake. “That’s actually the reason I decided to take this solo vacation—to take time away for myself!” You aren’t sure why you share this last bit of information with the boy, especially when you hadn’t told any friend or family about your spontaneous trip, but it just feels right to let him know that he’s not the only one in search of a liberation of some sort.

“I wish I could be a free spirit like you,” he chuckles for the first time, and it’s really fucking cute. “Maybe that’s why I’m taking this trip too—to loosen up a bit and do what I want, rather than conform to what the world expects of me.”

“Well you aren’t off to a great start, to be honest,” you tease him as you receive the bill from your waiter. As soon as you see how much you have to pay, your mouth forms a big O because you realize why the café is so empty. It costs you a lot more than you’d like to spend on some coffee and cake. But despite the overpriced food, you don’t feel terrible about your stay.

Just as you’re about to get up to pay at the register, you’re blocked by the boy who’s suddenly trying to act like a gentleman. “Let me pay for it… as an apology for interrupting your breakfast. And by the way, who eats cake for breakfast?”

“You ordered the same thing as me!” This guy is unbelievable, but also amusing. “And it’s fine. I may not be a celebrity like you, but I can pay for my own food. Thanks anyway, Mr. Celebrity.” You smile at him before making your payment at the counter. Something about his cute frown from the rejection makes you die a little.

“Then let me take you out,” he blurts out, perhaps on the spur of the moment. “I-I mean… unless you have plans later.”

You take a long moment to stare at the boy who had accused you of being a stalker less than an hour ago. Oh how the tables have turned. The spontaneity of travelling with someone you just met certainly will spice up your adventure—for better or worse. Somewhere in you, a fire is lit. So you shake your head, “I don’t have any plans. After all, I’m a free spirit as you like to call me.”

“Then what would you like to be called?”

“Y/N.”

“Right. Y/N. Then… I’m T?”

“T? Is that what your real name starts with?” you chuckle. “And why do you sound so suspicious?”

“Wait, you really don’t know who I am?”

“I really fucking don’t.”

You hear him mumble something about fires and deoxyribonucleic acid, as if you should get the references. But you suppose you’re too much of an uncultured swine to pick up what he’s putting down.

“Good.” For some reason, he looks relieved that you’re unaware of his celebrity self. “Just call me Taehyung then.”

[hazohazahazbro]

It's Not Personal Pt. II // 11:50 PM

Pairing: Reader x Bucky

Featuring: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanova

Warning: Swearing, fighting

Prompt: Bucky and Steve are assigned to track down and attack an alleged threat. But what happens when that alleged threat is you, and your intentions are more mysterious than they thought?

P.S ~ this will be separated into multiple *parts*. if you’re liking this and what to make sure you don’t miss the next parts that follow, then turn on post notifications or send me a DM.

Previous Parts:

Part I

Following Parts:

Part III

Part IV

Part V

The helicopter landed on a wide, brightly-lit platform that was located in the middle of the ocean. You guessed that this was where Fury was. A smile braced your lips as the two super soldiers vacated the helicopter, Rogers tugging on your arm to follow them. His grip stayed fastened to you as they led you inside the building. It was much larger than you could comprehended.

Agents watched in awe as the three of you made your way down the long corridors. You flashed tight smiles at a few of them. Earning looks of disgust from the agents. Rogers and Bucky continued onward down the hall until they came to a dark grey door. Bucky clicked it open, pushing you inside ahead of him. His metal arm have you a harder shove and you stumbled forward.

Two people stood in the room, it’s windows overlooked an even larger room of the building. Computers, monitors, agents and more filled the room below as you stared in awe. You knew the two people who stood at your side, you could guess them from miles away.

“Nice to see you again, Nicholas.” Your tone was bitter but your smile stayed on your face. Turning to face the man that ran SHIELD. He only looked at you with nothing but a blank stare.

“(F/N).” He gave you only a slight nod. “I hear you’re causing quite a problem for us.” He continued, his hands rested behind his back in a way he always did. You shrugged your shoulders in response.

“What can I say?” You answered, watching as the two super soldiers shut the grey door and took seats at a table across the room. The fourth person, who stood beside Fury, said nothing.

“You can give us the Mind Stone, to start.” The fourth person said through gritted teeth. You smirked.

“Sure, but you know what I want in return.” You said, your arms dangled in front of you, the cuffs starting to become annoying.

“We can’t give you what you want, (F/N). You know that.” Fury interjected, his one eye scanning your face with a look of hatred. You could see he didn’t like you, but you also knew that Nicholas was completely fascinated by you.

“I’m not going to hand over the Stone if you aren’t going to cooperate.” Your voice was firm, your eyes watched as none of the four made any moves to shout at you.

“If that’s how you want to play. Fine. Gentlemen, take her to her cell.” Fury turned to the super soldiers, informing them of their task. I only glared at Fury as the two came back over to me.

“I’ll get what I want Fury, I always do.” He only stared blankly at you as you were escorted back out into the corridor.

The super soldiers said nothing as they dragged you along. The corridor slowly become darker and you noticed less agents further down this way. Eventually, the two stopped you and opened a door to your left. Inside was a stairway, leading further down below the ocean. You could almost feel the weight of the water weighing down on the building. Cells lined the hall once you got to the bottom of the stairs.

Rogers stopped for moment, speaking low with one of the guards that stood along the cells. Turning to Bucky, Rogers gave a slight nod and then vanished back up the stairs. The hall was eerily silent, only for the steps of yours and Bucky’s boots, made any sound. Bucky pulled you to a stop and opened a cell door. They were all lined with glass, you figured were bulletproof. He shoved you inside and shut the door behind you. Turning around to look at Bucky through the thick glass, you held up your cuffed wrists.

“What about these?” You asked, dangling them at his eye level. Bucky didn’t say a word as he watched you. His eyes were giving a luminous dark feeling and it made you uncomfortable. “Hello?” He didn’t answer as he continued to stare at you.

You gave an annoyed sigh and turned away from him, examining your new cell. One bed was placed by the far wall and a single toilet beside the other. Who would go to the bathroom in a completely glass room? You thought in disbelief. You’d know that you’d most likely be out of here before you would have to use it anyway.

“Who are you?” You have a little jump, not realizing Bucky was still standing on the other side of the glass. Facing him once again, you gave him a curious stare.

“I’m (F/N).” You answered him, only because you were curious to know what he wanted. He only stared back at you. Really, you thought, the staring thing again?

“Why do you need the Mind Stone?” Bucky asked you. He didn’t give off any means of emotion as his face remained blank. Bringing a cuffed hand to your face, you pretended to ponder the question.

“I’m going to use it to destroy every immortal, then use it to take over every realm imaginable.” You answered, looking at him with a raised brow. Bucky rolled his eyes in response, sensing that you were joking. “Maybe what I want of the Stone is nothing but a personal thing.” You gave him a somewhat respectable answer. Bucky said nothing.

“Look, these conversations are going to have to be more than one-sided.” You chided him, leaning your cuffed hands on the glass. Over looking Bucky’s features. You took in his appearance. Admiring his tough-guy facade. He had these penetratingly blue eyes, that captured your attention when they were looking your way. His hair was pulled back, out of his face. But it still fell naturally behind his face. He had scruff along his jawline and chin, making him look like he could careless whether he shaved or not. You realized how much you were attracted to Bucky’s features.

“Why’re you staring at me?” Bucky spoke. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, not realizing you had been caught.

“I just can’t believe how unattractive they made a Winter Soldier.” You said flatly, trying to slow your heart rate. It began to accelerate when Bucky started to talk. Bucky snorted in response, taking a slight step back from the glass.

“Have a nice night.” He said, no emotion trailed his voice as he stepped back further, continuing down the hall. You have him no reply as you watched his back.

Dirt and grass were tangled in his hair, noticing that he was still messy from the fight earlier that night. His broad shoulders caught your attention more than his hair. His metal arm was revealed through his short-sleeved jacket. You wondered why Bucky enjoyed to show off his arm. It was quite a large thing, very evident. You liked it though. Something about the way he walked, the way he just stared endlessly at you with nothing but a glare. The fact that he hid everything made you drawn to him.

~~~

The rest of the cells appeared empty. Except for one at the furthest end. You couldn’t tell who or what it was, and you really didn’t feel like saying anything. At some point during the night, the guards switched posts and the sounds of footsteps echoed through the corridor before the shut of the door silenced them. It was only, and cold, you thought. Being left alone in a large, white cell. Nothing to stare at but your reflection in the glass. You sat on the floor, seemingly relentless to go sit on the bed.

No more sounds followed the night. You counted the seconds in your head, awaiting the day. You knew Fury or someone would come down to pester you once more. It would most likely be Rogers or Natasha. The two always seemed best at interrogating people, you realized. Though, only Fury already knew what you wanted. He had known from the beginning. And he tried his utmost hardest to keep it from happening. But to your luck, the Mind Stone fell into your lap and power was served in your court.

You hid it somewhere nobody would think to look. It couldn’t be traced where it was stashed. You made sure of that. Obviously, you had no intentions of harming the immortals that inhabited earth. They were barely ever in your mind. It was someone else who made you want the Mind Stone. With the Stone in your possession you could possibly get what you intended. And you would not give up without a fight.

“Morning,” your head twisted to the right. The fourth person that was in the room alongside Fury, Bucky, and Rogers last night stood outside the glass.

“Natasha.” You greeted. She stared at you, sitting squarely on the floor of your glass cell. “How’s Clint? I hear he’s got a family.” A smile crept to your face. It was true, you knew everything about the Avengers, and they were barely to nothing of clueless about you. She watched you cautiously, scanning you for any dead giveaways. But you had none. Perks of your upbringing.

“So,” Natasha started, her hands folded neatly in front of her, she began to pace the floor. “I would assume that the Stone isn’t in your possession as of right now?” She concluded, squinting her eyes to study your appearance more clearly. Your dark suit was smeared in dirt, and weeds probably hung from your hair. But the Stone wasn’t on you.

“I wouldn’t be that stupid, Natasha.” You answered.

“Stupid? No. Childish? Yes.” She spoke, her voice low. You knew it was like that every time she tried to lower herself to others’ levels. You knew her schemes and trick, you would not be fooled.

“Maybe,” the shrug of your shoulders gave the initiative that you couldn’t care less of what Natasha thought of you.

“We can do this the easy way or hard way, (F/N). It’s really your choice.” Natasha offered, you watched her with gleaming eyes.

“The hard way? That sounds fun.” A teasing tone enveloped your sentence. She only stared at you with an uncertain gesture of disgust. No body would understand the way your tricks worked. But they worked, and that was all you needed.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Natasha’s lips twitched into a small, hesitant smirk before she turned on her heel and stalked down the corridor. As she went, her hand glided over the door to your cell. It unlocked.

You stared incredulously after her. She continued on her way and up the stairs. The door sounding shut behind her. The cell door opened. You poked your head out but the guard had disappeared. Confusion encircled your thoughts. But then you saw it. Or should you say, him. You knew who it was right away. It was the Winter Soldier. He glided down the stairs in a fast, yet effortless motion.

“Buck,” you smiled. Stepping completely out of your cell. He didn’t slow down until he came right in front of you. His breath fanned your face, sending shivers throughout your body and down your spine. “Come to save the damsel in distress?” You asked.

“Not exactly.” Bucky answered, surprising you by grabbing hold of your shoulders and lifting you easily off your feet. He didn’t do this gentle, as he threw you back into your cell. The cuffs around your wrists tightened as your arms flailed, trying to soften your landing somehow. Bucky didn’t lock you in quite yet. He stepped inside and then quickly shut the door, having a 3 second gap before it slowly slammed closed.

You stood to your feet now, gaping at Bucky. Standing before you, in the glass cell, locked. Your mind was fuzzy with different thoughts flying through your head. Why the hell had he done that? You asked yourself.

“You really did go nuts.” You breathed out, referring to Bucky’s Hydra past. His eyes squinted at you, in a heart beat he had you in a head lock. It wouldn’t have been done so fast but the cuffs made you at a disadvantage. Or were they not? Bringing your hands up and behind you, the slack on the wire cuffs came around Bucky’s throat, pulling them back forward, it tightened its hold. Yanking with much force, you threw Bucky over your shoulder. He landed swiftly, already knowing your move.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky said. His voice was like ice. Cold and sharp.

You said nothing as your body began to fade. Bucky’s eyes began to widen in confusion and disbelief. Only to reappear a few feet from his right side.

“Now I’m over here,” you hissed at him. His body quickly twisted in your direction. But the vision was already clearing.

“Oops sorry, I meant over here.” You raised a cuffed hand to wave at him from the furthest corner of the cell. Bucky’s head turned to stare at you in shock.

“How are you-” you interjected him quickly. Throwing a hand in the air to dismiss his question.

“You have your powers. I have mine.” Was all you said to him before sliding down the wall and back into your spot on the floor. Bucky didn’t move, his eyes stayed glue to you even though you stayed put on the floor.

“C'mon. Have a seat.” Your sinister smile never faltered, though Bucky didn’t move. You rolled your eyes in response, huffing out exaggeratedly.

~~

It had been two hours since Bucky locked himself in the cell with you. You weren’t entirely sure why. Fury knew what you wanted. And Natasha was too smart to even think about helping you. So why have Bucky lock himself in a small, enclosed, glass box with one of his worst nightmares? You were gobsmacked.

“You really couldn’t be any more dull.” Throwing another insult at Bucky still didn’t make him budge. Over the past hours, he had moved from the centre of the cell to the farthest glass wall from you. But his attention never slipped from yours.

“You talk too much,” Bucky’s rough voice echoed through the empty cell. Your eyes lit up in joy, finally getting him to speak.

“What else is there to do?” You asked, trying to sound more bored than what you actually were. You had all the time in the world.

“Not talk.” Bucky answered almost instantly. You felt like you were talking to a wall.

Considering the situation you were in, you took this opportunity to analyse James. He was attractive, you had to admit. His broad shoulders gave the impression that the rest of his body was in perfect physique. Though, you guessed that already from his super soldier status. His eyes were fascinating, you noticed this beforehand. It was like trying to read crypt. Normally, you could read those like the back of your hand. But Bucky made it impossible to read him.

“You’re staring again.” He said, shaking you from your train of thought. Your spine grew uncomfortable from the spot you sat on the floor, but you made no move to stand.

“I can’t help it,” you started. “You’re..” bringing your bottom lip in between your teeth, trying to search for the right word. “You’re captivating.” Bucky snorted at this.

“I’m captivating?” He asked in bemusement. Bringing his hands together in his lap, feigning interest. “Tell me more.” He persisted, eyeing you teasingly.

“I can’t read you.” The words fell out before you meant them too. “There’s something about your look, your stance. It’s a shield.” They wouldn’t stop falling out.

“Why do you put yourself in a shell?” You asked him. You really weren’t sure where these words came from. You weren’t suppose to be interest in the life of James Barnes.

Bucky had stopped moving completely. The teasing glint in his eyes dissipated as the question hit him. You were afraid of what he might do. Because you knew you could hurt him more. It wasn’t like you’d want too. For some reason. You wanted him to tell you why he was so closed off. It bothered you, maybe. Though, deep down you knew there was another reason.

“I’m sorry.” The apology slipped out. You shook your head in confusion. Why did you just apologise? What had gotten into you?

“You know why I’m closed off.” Bucky said. His voice tight. “Since you didn’t seem to mind flashing that around earlier.” That hit you. Not realising why it hurt you so much to have Bucky through insults your way.

“I didn’t mean to call you nuts-” Bucky snorted in response. Sighing in defeat, you rested your head back down against the glass.

More time passed. The two of you stayed in silence. Your ears fixated on the sound of Bucky’s heartbeat. It was entrancing. You listened for as long as you could count. Then you’d start over again. You still didn’t understand the point of being locked in the cell with Bucky. He didn’t seem to mind all that much, which only made you more suspicious.

“Hey, Buck.” You hummed, his head swivelled in your direction. “Are you hungry? I’m getting hungry.” It was a lie, really. You were just curious to know what he would do. He didn’t say anything, or move. Your eyes squinted into a glare. He really was a very dull person.

The two of you continued to stare each other down. But eventually you gave up and looked away. For some reason, staring at him made you uneasy. It wasn’t a bad feeling, you noticed. It made you feel uneasy because it was an unknown feeling. You only felt something remotely close to that feeling was when you were home. And right now, that was all you wanted. You knew it was going to be hell when you returned. Everyone would be furious. But, you had already prepared yourself.

“How much longer?” You asked him, facing him again. He shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Got somewhere you need to be?” Bucky asked. You liked hearing him talk, you realised. His voice gave you a shiver, an enticing shoot of electricity down your spine.

“Somewhere, maybe. Need to be,” you pondered. “I want to be.” The words flowed freely. Your brain was exhausted from forcing a tough facade. You could tell Bucky was getting bored of shutting you out. You could see he was getting antsy. The smallest twitch of his fingers or shift in his leg.

“Where?” He questioned. you tilted your head in admiration. liked his interest but knew it was only to get information.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Bucky rolled his eyes at your response.

“You’re more secretive than I am,” Bucky said. You could hear the teasing tone when he spoke now. Your heart started to accelerate. Why? You didn’t know.

You avoided Bucky’s comment completely, changing the subject. “What’s the game plan here?” You asked. Bucky’s head fell forward slightly, making a piece of hair fall into his face. With a slight jerk, he flicked it back behind his ear.

“Game plan?” Bucky repeated, staring at you curiously. You nodded.

“The glass cell, the wire cuffs,” you held up your cuffed wrists in exaggeration. “What’s it all for?” You prompted him. This earned you a smirk. You paused in disbelief. Bucky had smirked at you. Not believing how much you enjoyed him smirking at you.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he responded. His tone not dropping a beat of amusement.

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