#the most precious thing ive ever seen

[hematomes]

by far the most dangerous animal on the planet

#i just turned around and there she was sleeping in the light #my little angel. the apple of my eye #the most precious thing ive ever seen #i am having emotions about her. i love her so much <3 #cat #cute

[mostdefinitelyahumanperson]

so im sure we all saw Cole press his head against Nya's hand when saying goodbye, but i havent seen anyone point out that he rubs his cheek on her hand like a cat ???

#i really wish i could make a gif to show yall because it was the most precious thing ive ever seen #dragons rising #ninjago #cole brookstone #nya jiang #dragons rising spoilers

[modernmanblues]

Eric Stewart, Lol Creme, Peter Tattersall & Graham Gouldman coaching Manchester City choir at Strawberry Studio in the early 70s

#lol conducting is quite literally the most adorable thing ive ever seen OUGH too precious! #10cc #eric stewart #lol creme #graham gouldman #peter tattersall #manchester city choir #strawberry studio #stockport #manchester #UK

[nazurabbit]

BUNNIES.

#augh this is the cutest thing ive ever seen ill be going crazy for like the next week and a half #ra*bits the loves of my life theyre the most precious #comfort unit yeah #enstars #ra*bits

[taintedcigs]

it is always so interesting to me the colors taylor associates with love, it’s red. at first. she believes its what love should be like; tumultuous, exciting, never-ending passion. but as she enters into new relationships, phases of her life, she realizes love isn’t burning red, there is never going to be that endless passion, there are going to be times where its just calm and you feel fine. and that’s what she desperately seeks, a love that is not going to be a full upwards experience, nor a downwards one. it’s going to be stable, and then not stable, then boring, then possibly fun, and then repeat: love is unpredictable and doesn’t stay in just the confinements of one thing or another.

she realizes this during the red era as the prologue states: ‘real love shines golden like starlight, maybe I’ll write a whole album about that kind of love if I ever find it’. after this, we can slowly start to see how taylor shifts from the idea of love being red, into the idea of love being golden; we first see this gold association clearly in the reputation album, in dress; 'made your mark on me a golden tattoo' and in dancing with our hands tied; ‘deep blue but you painted me golden’

then she explores this idea of love being associated with gold much further with the muse in lover, the love she saw as starlight during the red era has fully shifted into daylight, she now views starlight as something that ‘combusts’ and 'fades’ while she sees daylight as getting out of that darkness, and seeing the bright side. ‘i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden.’

we see this theme in a LOT of the songs in reputation and lover. HOWEVER, i feel like this idea of love as gold fades when we get to evermore.

im one of the ppl who will argue to death that folkmore for sure isn’t entirely fictional, especially evermore. i don’t think taylor fully realized how much her personal feelings & experiences were integrated into it when she wrote evermore, but it’s clear as day with everything that transpired after midnights was released and with 2023. and i think she realized it later on too, during 2022-2023, which was the time she started writing ttpd.

‘gold rush’ BREAKS her idea of love being gold, ‘i don’t like a gold rush’ is a direct reference to the muse in reputation and lover era. later on in the midnights album, i feel like she realizes this further, how the idea of a 'golden love' is also a mistaken belief, like the red love was.

‘question…?’ reflects this further, ‘'cause I don't remember who I was before you painted my nights, a color i’ve searched for since.’ yet, i feel like, she is still in denial here, believing that golden is the color she's been searching, therefore, refusing to stop believing in this color association.

now, moving onto the tortured poets department, which i know, is a an album that isn't out and we haven’t heard the song, but let's talk about the alchemy!!! the word alchemy is by definition about the chemical science and speculative philosophy with the aim of transforming base metals into gold. i think this song is about her fully realizing that the ‘golden love’ is just a fallacy like, ‘red love’ was. and depending on how the song will play out, i feel like it could be about whether her realizing that associating colors with love is just another way to romanticize and create this impossible, inachievable goal in her head, like she did with red, or she still associates love with golden, which could be the case, since i think taylor has seen "golden love" as the most precious, safe and happy; e.g. the best day (gold associated with her mom), and her muse in previous albums wasn't the golden love she believed to be, thus, she couldn't transform it into one! 👀

all that blabbing about a song ive never, listened, yes. but i love desperately analyzing taylor songs, it is very annoying, i cannot stop myself. I AM SORRY.

#em talks #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #this isnt very coherent #probably repetitive at times but i hope i worded it well???

[acotarfrustrations]

An ongoing list of ACOWAR grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them) pt. 2

I'm on chapter 15 now and feeling the urge to complain again so here we go

1) the writing is way too overdramaticized. Like every other paragraph is some remixed version of feyre going "I wondered whether it would be eggs or bacon for breakfast. But when I looked at Rhys I realized that he was giving me my own choice. My mate, my high lord. In our home. With our family. Every thing was always my choice" and its CONSTANT, LIKE OH MY GOD GIRL SHUT UP

2) every thing about Lucien's plotlineand the elain mating thing. I HATE this subplot with a PASSION

3) feyre immediately fucking rhys when she got back instead of going to see her sisters

4) feyre and rhysand acting like they've ben separated for forty centuries instead of a month

5) the contradictions about how the high lord thing works. Like it was established that its a government position given to you through basically fate and being chosen by the cauldron or whatever which is why siblings kill each other for a chance for the throne and yet they just went to a priestess and swore feyre in as high lady?? It makes her title not feel real like it's purely ceremonial. It doesn't even make sense that she would be able to be HL of the night court as she has no more ties to that court than she does any other court. Is it because she's mated to Rhys? I don't understand the HL lord at all, it just keeps changing

6) the fact that Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian tell Lucien about their tragic backstories and everything that's happened to feyre at the NC and he just immediately does a Feyre™️. Like he's suddenly "Oh yeah you had a horrible childhood and took feyre into your found family without letting her explore relationships outside of the IC, that totally makes up for all the evil shit THAT IVE SEEN YOU DO WITH MY OWN 2 EYES. wow i cant believe youre not evil even though you killed 50 winter court children and sexually assaulted your mate and mind raped her constantly to get her to like you"

7) the way they're treating Nesta. It has been a MONTH since she was stolen from her home, brought amongst a race that she is terrified of and THAT ENSLAVED HER PEOPLE, and was forcefully turned into ONE OF THEM and the IC is acting like she's being unreasonable for not wanting to talk to them or to mate with Cassian. WHY THE HELL WOULD SHE EVEN BE THINKING ABOUT CASSIAN RIGHT NOW?? WHY THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR HIM? Instead of him worrying about how his mate is doing regardless of his own comfort he's like WOE IS ME, SHE DOESNT WANT TO FUCK ME?????? GET OVER IT ASSHOLE?? WHY IS FEYRE EVEN LETTING CASSIAN COME NEAR HER AND ANTAGONIZE HER?? DOESNT SHE LOVE TO FLAUNT HER HL STATUS AROUND?? THIS IS THE TIME TO USE IT, PROTECT YOUR GODDAMN SISTER FROM HIM? ITS SO OBVIOUS THAT SHE DOESNT GIVE NEARLY AS MUCH OF A SHIT ABOUT NESTA AS SHE DOES ELAIN!!

8) the fact that sjm didn't keep cassian's wings shredded. Him learning to live with that would have been a badass character development but now sjm doesn't want me to have good things

9) the mating bond in general. I think it could be a potentially good plot device but no one ever employs it well and sjm is definitely the most egregious with it

10) the fact that the ic never gave consequences for their fucking actions. Feyre dies in acotar? Turn her into a fey and give her ALL of their powers. Stealing a precious artifact that they didn't even end up needing and getting a bounty on their head in the summer court and then getting that court invaded? That's fine because feyre is SOOO brave and says things that are common fucking sense which makes her SOOOO smart so we obviously need her as an ally so we'll just rescind the blood rubies. Getting the spring court sacked? That's fine we didn't like them anyway. Rhys and feyre's bond gets snapped? Well they didn't know about our super secret mating bond that is actually the only thing that gives our characters chemistry so we still like each other. Rhys causes irreparable damage to every court for 50 years and kills 50 kids? Well that's fine he was being held hostage and hey! We don't know he actually killed those kids 😡 Feyre, a 20 year old girl who's been fae for like 6 months and training for even less goes up against thousands of years old beings? She beats them effortlesslessly! Rhys gets sexually assaulted for 50 years! Well he planned all of it so it has no negative consequences on him. Cassian gets his wings shredded? Well he worked really hard and they're fixed now 🥰. Rhys FUCKING DIES?? Well that's no problem, tamlin can just resurrect him, nvm the fact that there's no reason why he WOULD. like no harrowing situation is ever interesting cause we all know sjm isn't actually going to do anything to the ic

11) "my mate" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING

12) "males and females" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING pt. 2

#anti acowar #anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti sarah j maas #anti ic #anti acomaf #anti inner circle

[idyllic-affections]

how abt hcs abt gn teen (around 15-16) reader being kaeya’s biological younger sibling !!

if we have each other.

summary. what is it like being kaeya's teen younger sibling?

trigger & content warnings. child abandonment.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. kaeya & younger sibling!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. anon omg... ive been wanting an excuse to write something like this again for a while! i am a professional platonic kaeya enjoyer <3 anyway i hope you like these!!! i decided not to go into the whole ragnvindr family drama thing because honestly? i go into that a little too often when i write about kaeya. i chose to give him a break today!

i see kaeya being very protective of his sibling. he's not so protective that it comes off as overbearing, but he's definitely very involved in their life only because he just... doesn't know what he'd do with himself if he let them get hurt.

given that he basically had to raise them...

it makes sense for him to be so involved. sure, he had help from the ragnvindr family, but kaeya did the most work when it came to raising his baby sibling.

when his father abandoned him in mondstadt, he also abandoned his youngest child, [name]. they were about two or three at the time.

he doesn't necessarily hold the same resentment towards the seven that other khaenri'ahns might, though he doesn't exactly lean in their favor either.

still... kaeya thanked the seven that they didn't get deathly sick (they were so young and frail that it really was a valid concern) that night in the pouring rain, despite how badly they shivered and cried. he'll never forget how utterly visceral their sobs were.

he doesn't doubt that they understood what was happening that night, despite how little they were.

because of that, kaeya doesn't hide anything from them. he tells them the entire truth about their origins as soon as they're old enough to coherently ask why their father abandoned them.

when kaeya and [name] were young, they were absolutely attached at the hip. once they're both older, they aren't seen together as much, but that isn't to say they aren't seen together; it's just that kaeya does have obligations as a knight and his sibling has their own commitments.

he loves them wholeheartedly.

if he had to betray khaenri'ah to protect them, archons know he'd do it. if he had to betray mondstadt to protect them, archons know he'd do it. he doesn't care as long as it means they'll be safe.

to kaeya, they are probably the most precious thing he has—ever since his falling out with diluc, at least. well... they were always his most precious thing. after his falling out with diluc, it just made them moreso.

part of the reason he despises those who threaten others' families is simply because of his sibling.

he does not take threats to their safety lightly, not at all.

kaeya's a very good brother overall, but he is 100% also the most annoying mf.

he's the type of older brother that makes his sibling do things for him and then guilt trips them when they tell him to do it himself LMAO

i feel like he can cry on command and does it just to make them feel bad when they tell him no!

you know that "i'm hungry. grill me a cheese" audio? yeah.

Kaeya: I'm hungry.

[Name]: So lick that coat, you smell like a—

Kaeya: Grilled cheese.

[Name]: What????

Kaeya: Grill me a cheese.

[Name]: I'm not grilling you a cheese!

Kaeya, sobbing on the floor:

[Name]: ...Oh, for Barbatos' sake.

kaeya, as protective as he is, is also very laid-back. his sibling has just about as much freedom as they could want (within reason, of course).

kaeya, his sibling, and klee are a chaos trio. the three of them have lit a concerning amount of things on fire.

he's very physically affectionate!

ruffling their hair, leading them along by the dip in their back, shoving them (lovingly)... he's clingy, really, and just likes being able to touch his sibling because it reminds him that they're safe and alive.

if they ever wanted to become a knight, he's right there to support them. if they wanted to become an adventurer, again, he's there to help them out.

whatever they want to do with their life, he's their greatest cheerleader.

kaeya will always support them, but he's also very tough on them when it comes to training them physically if their aspiration demands physical strength.

they want to be a knight? an adventurer? a traveler, perhaps? alright, but they need to take him down in a fight first.

he makes every duel with him the hardest fight of their life.

kaeya needs to be confident that they can effectively defend themselves, and if he isn't? sorry. they aren't going anywhere until he is certain beyond a shadow of a doubt. he needs to know they can handle themselves, because—as much as he hates to admit it—he may not always be there to protect them.

wouldn't it be interesting if they got a vision while in a duel with him?

that'd be a very fascinating twist of fate.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸 #favoniuslibrary #kaeya x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic kaeya x reader #platonic genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader

[arcan3-reliquary]

Omg ive just had the hugest brain idea ever: Golden Ratio personality swap au.

Ratio is an eccentric celebrity scientist with a bit of a penchant for theatrics, who hides his rather selfless motives under 6 layers of “ha??? of course, its the most logical choice, why wouldnt I do that huehue” because god forbid the genius society or the inteligentsia guild think he cares and have rumours flying about. Mad Scientist and Philosopher, buries everything he says within metaphor and “I dunno, am I?” Dances the line of brilliant and audacious because nothing gives him more joy than to experience the adrenaline that has eluded him since the days of his youth, when his ideas were seen as novel and charming. The Elation was a path open to him at one time, but the nonsense of it all - for all the chaos he may create, he is anything but senseless. He sees the beauty in chemical explosions, in marble crushed beneath his chisel and hammer, in the destruction that is born of the pursuit of a greater restart and something for the betterment of all.

Aventurine, the last of the Sigonians and the star of the Strategic Investments Department. Quiet and observant, with a smile that never meets the eyes, hidden behind the darkest polarizing lenses. Makes no secret of any of the awful things hes had to do to claw his way from the mud to where he is now, and all the better for him as people step out of his way. An eye always on his watch, hand always pulling and adjusting his gloves. Time is money, and his time is precious. A wager is nothing more than statistics, and with eyes as keen and all seeing as his, no bad hand will ever befall him. The numbers and chips of a poker table were always better company than the incompetence of the IPC coworkers he corals on the daily. But he did not get here by simply letting life knock him over, no - he fought back tooth and nail for everything to work out, even if his luck never extended past his personal bubble. His hands do not shake when they clutch his last chip, for the game would have ended like this from the beginning. All it takes is one chip, one wrong number, one incorrect calculation- and he has secured the deal. By the will of the hunt, he is not going to let one incorrigible variable ruin everything or the lives of those around him. he will see that nothing destroys lives the way his was.

Idk im just yapping again. I just think Destruction! Ratio and Hunt! Aventurine is an interesting idea

#hsr au #hsr aventurine #hsr ratio #dr ratio #personality swap au #bro im just over here yappin

[hiemaldesirae]

Tis Arrax,:3 and Fallen Angel Vox with Human Alastor (then eventually Radio demon Alastor) Anyone?

A Vox who is the baby brother to Lucifer, who looks up to him, who follows Lucifer anywhere. Who joins in on his rebellion, and--because he's so young, both Lucifer and Lilith curl around him and protect him during the Fall. Saving most of his wings from damage. They're still a little scorched, but he can still fly like Lucifer and the dark blue is visible. Vox, since he was Lucifer's younger brother keeps his human shape unlike the Sins. He becomes a Prince of Hell, but usually spends his time on earth, enticing humans.

That's how he meets Alastor--or should I say, that's how Alastor attempts to kill him. He immediately thinks this murderous human is hilarious-he takes the knife out of his chest, wings unfolding out of his back and draws Alastor close, a purr in his throat.

"Oh, Darling aren't you just delicious?" He murmurs, gently cradling Alastor's chin. Wing cocooning them Intimately. "Very possessive aren't you? I'm your muse, and no one else could have me hmm? That's why you had to kill me, precious?" Vox croons, demonic form fully showing, tail wrapping possessively around Alastor's thigh. "A gift, for when you enter my brother's kingdom--power, form your muse." He murmurs, mouth crashing down onto Alastor's tongue demanding entrance, the taste of his own blood thick as he entered his human's mouth. (A gift without taking Alastor's soul :3)

Laughing, he broke away as Alastor greedily swallowed his blood, and he flapped his wings, vanishing into the night.

Alastor of course never forgets his muse. Never forgets how powerful his muse WAS that night, or how safe Vox made him feel, wrapped in his wings (not that he'd ever tell anyone) and when he drops into hell...well, he is astonishingly powerful and becomes an overlord overnight, power no one's seen before at his fingertips.

Of course, he doesn't see is precious muse again until Charlie Morningstar opens her hotel (which he goes to help only for the chance to see more of the royal family.)

And who should be helping dear sweet Charlie on behalf of her father because he's in trouble for killing some important human too early? Why, her beloved uncle and Prince of Hell, Vox.

Alastor is thrilled. His muse, his beloved, his soon to be mate is here! Yes they're stuck doing this dumb redemption thing but they're together! Maybe Vox will let him curl up in his wings....and get a taste of his blood again. (But mostly he wants to feel safe, just wants to feel those wings around him again...)

WOOOO (very excited clapping) YES i love fallen angel aus... ive always wanted to do a fallen angel vox au but this one is the only one thats spoken to me so far LMFAO

the idea of alastor joining up the hazbin hotels efforts to rehabilitate sinners SOLELY because he wanted another chance to see the pretty (fallen) angel he tried to kill all those years ago in life is so fucking funny to me. like yeah okay go off boyfailure try and get your cognitohazard wife

also i do want to ask questions for this. obviously because i have nothing in my head ever and i hardly understand asks when i first read them through LMFAO. but uh, as a prince of hell would vox be considered like one of the sins??? in which case would we have... 8 sins? if so... i wanted to mention vainglory/vanity, which is a historical sin no longer used in reference when it comes to the cardinal sins. i think given the fact that it's now encompassed into pride as a sin works for vox, who followed lucifers guide and would thus want to follow even in his brothers footsteps when it came to his ascension (decension?) as a sin. and of course, the way that he behaves with alastor is... well. vain as fuck but you know what my wife deserves it

also. sighs and hangs my head. even though i have like 19 wips to do would you let me try and write this one too,..... (making puppy eyes at you)

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #fallen angel vox

[fieldofdaisiies]

Friends to benefits headcanons for Rhys 🥹

ALSO IVE MISSED YOU OMG

and I missed youuuu🥹 here you go❤️

I think Rhys and you would start of work colleagues, like you helping him with Night Court business and you being part of the IC

obviously there is some attraction from both sides but you are both always reserved not wanting to ruin your friendship

but as the days pass, the attraction grows and grows and the desire stretches out

stolen glances and accidental touches are on your daily agenda until one evening when it is just Rhys and you in his office, discussing the finances of the Night Court

"I want you and I know you want me too. I need you, I crave you."

these are the only words needed, the only conversation needed, for you two to close the distance and share a searing kiss that soon leads to more, your bodies coming together, moving in sync

after your shared night you don't really talk about it, not sure if you have crossed a line that shouldn't have been crossed

you both are somehow distant until one day Rhys addresses the elephant in the room and you talk about it, even though it is not easy

you both sit on the couch in his office, discussing what is happening between the two of you

"I don't want to lose you as my friend, but I am also not ready for a relationship...not after everything that has happened. Not after always losing the things I love."

his head hangs low and you quickly place your hand on his shoulder "I know this and I understand, I am also not quite ready for a relationship and I don't want to lose you as a friend either."

and so you keep talking, both mentioning that you miss intimacy and you come to the conclusion that you could just try to be friends who sometimes sleep together

it could work, you both think and it is also the thing you do right after talking about it, making love on Rhysand's office desk

and so the days come and go and most evenings when everyone retires and political business is closed you end up in Rhysand's bed, sometimes making love, sometimes fucking until the early morning hours

Rhys loves to worship you, loves to tell you that you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen

he loves to bath with you, but also just to fool around with you like old friends

which you are

you are still friends on the outside, although the whole IC knows what is happening behind closed doors

they tease you endlessly, but are happy that you two have each other

and obviously, both of you slowly start to fall for the other, but you never admit it out loud, you want to keep what is between the two of you, it is so beautiful and precious, you don't want to throw it away

so you decide to wait for the future, for what they future will bring and maybe one day you will be more than just friends

#rhysand headcanons #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #acotar headcanons

[maiswrld222]

To Have You 14.02.2003

H. Hyunjin x Male Reader

Y/N is a new student at Hyunjins school and they meet on the bus. Hyunjin then realised the friendship between the two ruined his popularity image so he distances himself between him and y/n. But when Hyunjin realised he was blind all along and tries everything he can to win male reader’s heart, it becomes too late and Y/N’s heart belongs to someone else.

Genre: Angst, fluff (if you squint)

Songs to listen to while reading this book: 기다릴게 - Taekwoo

A/N: please listen to that song while you read this book :( i promise the experience will be rlly good

Hyunjin Pov:

How. How did I end up here. Standing lifeless as tears filled to the brim of my eyes. Seeing you.. with him.

A few months earlier~

Hearing my alarm clock singing to awaken me from my slumber was a signal for me to get ready. I hopped out of the thin sheets and did my routine for school as usual - brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my hair, and get into my school uniform. nothing too important as I don’t really mind how I look. walking down the stairs to greet my single-hard working mom and my little sister, I exit out the front door of my small house and walk to the bus stop.

Boarding my bus I sit where there were only two seats left. those seats being at the very back of the public vehicle. Watching the lifeless trees and boring people of the town pass by, the bus suddenly comes to a stop. the bus door then opens to the most beautiful boy I have seen in my entire life. you walked down the aisle and had no choice but to sit next to me. I stared at you in awe as you placed your black tote bag in between your oxford shoes. You turn to look at me to wave and introduce yourself.

“Hi. I’m y/n” accompanied yourself with the sweetest smile one has ever seen. Trying not to make the situation awkward I say hi and introduce myself back. “um I’m new to this school… do you mind if you show me around?” you say with shyness evident in your voice. “Of course. I’d love to.” I say back while giving a smile.

Showing you around was fun as we slowly got to know each other. being in this moment with you felt like a dream. though we’ve only met I’ve slowly come to realise that I like you.

Time skip to many months later~

we’ve been best friends for a while now. although those moments of friendship were deserved to be cherished I’ve come to realise this isn’t right. I’m straight. I’m a guy who is supposed to end up with a beautiful girl. I now start to notice the stares everyone gave us during our time of being friends together. well I mean I’m the most popular boy in school. And to be with a new student who’s a feminine boy, I couldn’t have let myself come to like you.

I asked to meet in the courtyard to have a talk. after the gut-wrenching talk i left you by yourself in the courtyard and left you all alone with tears brimming at your eyes. Even though this was for my popularity and image I did this for the better and to distance us apart.

A few weeks later~

Although I promised myself to distance from each other, I couldn’t help but stare at you between now and then. I was more that delighted to see you now with your new friend group. seeing you laugh and smile around them made me crazy for you. I also couldn’t help but pleasure myself often thinking about you. Deep down inside me ive always wanted to hold you, care for you, love you, and treat you like the you’re the most precious thing in the world.

We glanced at each other once and whilst you quickly looked away, I stayed in my position staring at you. I love you. so 1 day later until valentine’s day and it’s surprising that i’m the most popular boy in school with no valentines I had my eye on you. I was planning on proposing to you as I speak into my mind right now. It had to be perfect. The most perfect proposal ever.

Valentine’s day~

It was the day when I have come to my senses and propose to you. I had bought a $200 bouquet full of pink roses and a letter accompanied by it. it said :

Dear Y/N~

You held me close, you touched my skin, you brought more joy than you'll ever know. My soul was breach on a daily basis by your love. The sound of your voice made my heart swing on the stars. Your eyes were truly the window to my souls contentment, evolving every way possible. The life I had with you was golden and no man can ever take away the love I felt for you. Giving is a selfless act, one that doesn't happen often, but you made it a thing of beauty as well as a regularity. A sensuous smile to a passing glance, the mood was always perfect because you made me feel so happy. You made me laugh in a way that only babies can laugh and feel pure. Those were the happiest times of my life because of you.

I walked towards the corner you were at until I saw a boy in a grade above us named minho. I quickly hid behind the brick wall and peek while you and him conversed between each other. Then I saw him kiss you. My eyes widened at the sight of what was going to be mine, belonged to another man. So how. How did I end up here. Standing lifeless as tears filled to the brim of my eyes. Seeing you.. with him. I dropped the bouquet and letter and ran away from the school as fast as I could and to my luck it started to pour from the sky.

Thinking about what we could’ve been I walked for miles on the road wondering if you ever liked me the moment we met. My thoughts came to an end when I felt my body crash into what felt like an inevitable force. And all I saw was black.~

maybe part 2? ;)

- Mai 💋

#skz x male reader #kpop male reader #kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #male reader smut #hyunjin #hyunjin x male reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #male reader fanfic #male reader fluff #kpop boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpopidol #kpop moodboard

[cyber-seaweed]

okay the AMOUNT of ooc skk fics i stumble through will be the death of me. i read through your replies on that post so i know u get it so if you have recs for ones u feel actually do them well....... pls share

ive been in this fandom for four years and still dont have enough fics because i haaate ooc skk, but ill put all my favs here. disclaimer that i mostly go for long running fics, so im sure theres a lot of amazing one shots i might be missing!!

i was screaming your name through the radio // 256,709 words

there's a good chance you've already read this one, but this one is probably my fav fic ever!! seriously the best characterizations of chuuya and dazai, i love their dynamic sooo much here. if you haven't read this one, do it!!! a great fic in everyway, the only fic where i actually cried out of relief when they FINALLY get together.

the art of precious scars // 109,410 words

this one shocked me, i haven't seen it on many recs but it's one of my favorites of all time too! i looove how they write dazai in this one, i love skks dynamic here a lot. definitely worth a read!

empire of dirt // 59,748 words

this one will make you cry. it's an amazing fic! i don't have much to say on this one without spoiling it, but if you haven't read this one yet. im sorry.

tied knots // 202,862 words

ok so this one is odd, normally i go for fics where i like all of the bg ships, but this one has a bg ship thats very...well ive never seen it. it works very well in the actual story though! i avoid odazai too, but this one doesn't really have it, its platonic dw!! other than those two things, i really enjoy this one. skk are quite unhealthy here, but i enjoy them so much....

still still still // 112,578 words

probably the most popular fic on this rec, however it's popular for a reason!! i love this one a lot, it's another music au, but takes it in a much different direction. this ones really good!

i know it's only five, im sorry!! most of my times spent w skk fics end with me clicking off midway through because i hate the direction they took skk in. if anyone has some good recs with in character skk, pls post them in the comments too!!

#soukoku #skk #osamu dazai #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bsd fic recs #soukoku fic

[emlovslennon]

hiiiii could you do teddy john and sort of “square” reader are rivals and always fighting. then one day she asks him why he teases her so much and he confesses he likes her 😸😸 thanks LOADSSSS

HIII IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE IVE BEEN SO BUSY ITS INSANE but here we go ladies cuz we need more teddy boy content in our lives cuz there can never be enough teddy boy <3

-

era: 1960

-

you and John have done nothing but butting heads recently, whether it be arguing over music taste or arguing over what a movie to watch, it’s just gotten more and more frequent.

“Y/n, move out of my fucking way dammit!” John yelled, you didn’t move a muscle as you stared up at him by the doorway, you guys were assigned partners for an art project for your college final and you two just wouldn’t quit, constantly going at it.

“No, quite frankly, Lennon, you’re not my father, so I don’t have to do anything you tell me to.”

“Yea? Well it’s my bloody house, if you know what’s good for ya, you’ll move.” He said, looking deep into your eyes, you froze, you couldn’t help but feel something deep inside, it felt strange, you couldn’t put your finger on it, even if you wanted to. I mean, there had to be a reason he’s been so brutal lately.

“Why are you acting like this John? You know, I’ve heard that when somebody acts like this, it means they like them and they’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Is that what this is? Hm?” You asked, he look stunned, you could slowly start to see a red flush paint his face, you couldn’t deny, it was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Y/n, please don’t start with that shit.” He said, softly shoving you out of his way to sit down on the couch.

“John, i don’t care, if this is why you’re being such a twat then I don’t mind… you know, you’re a very handsome man, John, if i do say so myself.” You said, speaking very quietly on the last part, but you know he heard. He turned to you and his blush intensified, he shifted in his seat.

“I.. y/n… fuck it, ya know what, I do like you, okay? Is that what you fucking want to hear? I just.. I feel like I’m just not good enough for ya cuz you’re little miss sunshine and rainbows and im probably the most hated fucking man in Liverpool.” He confessed, covering his face with his hands, you slowly walked over to him, removing his hands from his face and sitting next to him, placing his hands into your own.

“Listen, I know we have been at each others throats, but you could have just told me, i like you too, why do you think I always call you every night and try to see you every chance I get? I don’t care if you’re the most man wanted in Great Britain, I really like you and… I wouldn’t mind going around saying I’m John Lennon’s girlfriend.” You said comfortingly, John moved his hand to slowly caress your cheek, looking into your eyes again, but in a different kind of manner, it looked like the glare you give when you’re down right in love.

“Birdie.. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so ashamed to have been so cruel to a precious thing like you. I’ve wanted you for so damn long, y/n. Will you forgive me, please? I’ll do anything for ya, I’m a fool, y/n, but it’s all for you.” He said, tears covering his eyes, he looked so vulnerable, you’ve never seen him like this, but coming to the realization you broke that wall down that he’s had for such a long time, is refreshing.

“John, of course, you don’t need to ask, I’m all yours Johnny, I promise.” You whisper, before leaning in to give him a long awaited kiss.

-

OKAY THIS WAS ALSO SHORT BUT THIS ONE KINDA GOT ME INTO MY FEELINGS NGL BUT I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED IT <33

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #john lennon x reader #the beatles x reader #60s

[brain-amoeba]

ive been slacking a little for personal reasons but i got divine inspiration so here is whatever the hell this is (fem reader)

You don’t remember the last time you slept, let alone drank clean water or wore something other than the scrapped remnants of the outfit you wore on the first night thrust in this absolute nightmare. Your thoughts swirled around you like grey clouds, giving you a momentary escape before a bullet whizzing mere centimeters past your current position dragged you back into your primal survival instincts. The man behind the scope peered at your quivering form with not so much as a twitch. He was stoic, and calculated your every movement--but only he knew you were the first victim who would never meet a cold end by his rifle.

As you darted for cover once more, a fateful rock blocked out by narrowing tunnel-vision led to a harsh collision with the dry, cracked earth below you. “This is it. This is how it fucking ends...being hunted by a depraved son of a bitch in the middle of fucking nowhere, Australia!”  You thought, defeat setting in as you lay limp in the exact position you fell in. A bullet whizzed past your skull. Daring to lift your gaze in horror, the sight of the bullet lodged in the dirt only inches before you triggered the familiar sting of bile forcing itself up your throat. Your pathetic face was stained with tears, dirt, and vomit...the most beautiful sight Sniper had ever seen. Your muscles, weak from constant trembling, soon gave out. No means of fighting back now.

The slow approaching footsteps painfully rung out in your ears like the gunshots you’ve been terrorized with for days on end. Your weary eyes managed to peer open and your view was filled with western-style steel toes and legs that seemed to go on for miles. A raspy whine involuntarily filled the air as you felt his boot dig into your cheek, using it to tip your face up and meet his unfeeling gaze. “My, look what we have here...” He whistles, impressed with the fruits of his hunt. “And I didn’t even ‘ave to spill any of your precious blood either, Sheila.” Sniper bent down, grabbing your face in a vise grip as he inspected its sullied state. “Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll getcha cleaned up real good...but I admit, seein’ you so pathetic like this...” He shudders, animalistic arousal apparent in his voice and his trousers. “...is absolutely perfect.” Sniper’s words haunted you, and you attempted to choke down more bile as you finally processed the ominous implications of his “assurances”.

The last thing you remember before your body could no longer support a conscious thought was an engine idling, and a brief sight of rifles, ammunition, glossy photos littered on every surface, and....jars filled with an unsettling yellowish liquid.

#should i continue this???? #who knows #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #mick mundy #eat up my children

[kaicean]

I normally just draw and not make long text posts but I have bundled up Natsu/Lucy feelings I want to word vomit ever since I picked up the Fairy Tail game out of curiosity (PLS & THIS & ?!?!) and most of all watched the Dragon Cry movie for the very first time a few months ago (July ironically). This movie dragged me back by the neck to this ship I loved several years ago.

Now I own a copy of the movie’s storyboard manga drawn by Mashima himself and the pamphlet. I flip through the pages of these two more times than I can count like-

真島自らが描いた、ナツの回想の中ルーシィ Natsu’s recollection of Lucy, drawn by Mashima himself

I’ve read several essays + interview (i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii to name a few) revolving around the famous nalu scenes in the movie, but I don’t think I ever came across anyone talking about what I think is the ultimate song that perfectly captures them in their entirety—Dragon Cry’s ending theme What You Are by Polka Dots.

There are only two translations I found, one of them being from the wiki but it’s a little off. This one is more accurate. My translation version is a mix of it plus usage of DeepL so it may not be entirely accurate but it’s close enough.

I absolutely see this song as Lucy -> Natsu due to obvious phrases within the lyrics and it fits my headcanon of Natsu being metaphorically Lucy’s brightest star. His name means summer which has ties to the sun, aka the brightest star. The sun is known to be the brightest star because it’s the closest to us, just like the person closest to Lucy is Natsu.

You're still you, no matter what Softly illuminating the darkness You're a star

Self explanatory, first line starts off with Lucy’s answer to Natsu’s “What do I look like?” question. This was first shown to us in the beginning of the movie so let’s keep that in mind.

Where is tomorrow? The past cannot be erased In a pitch-dark world I found a warm, enveloping light "It's gonna be okay" the voice said That voice echoed in my heart I want to believe in you, whatever you are Whatever the road I take, I want to be by your side I want to keep walking Wish on a star Let's find it, let's find it The only light

This can be easily depicted by my favorite scene in Snow Fairy opening, where Lucy’s world was rainy and bleak until a literal light shines through when she looks at Fairy Tail, particularly Mirajane and main team:

She ran away from home, stripped herself from Lucy Heartfilia to just Lucy, and began her own journey. Her world was small and lonely due to her strict upbringing but it was thanks to Natsu, who led her to Fairy Tail, that her world brightened and expanded since that day. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t hide her Heartfilia name for long which led us to the Phantom Lord arc. Here was where Natsu firmly assured her twice that she could stay in the guild and that it is her home that she can come back to, because she’s Lucy of Fairy Tail. These feelings were further cemented towards the end of the arc by Makarov. From then, she stopped running away and faced her past/father head-on, before returning home to the guild.

The cherry blossom colored dusk reflects in your eyes I'm not sad, yet the tears spilled Someone once said that the most beautiful things are fleeting No matter what today is, it has meaning I’ll always be by your side I'll hold your hand tight Let's tell each other The feelings hidden in our hearts You're a star You're a star

This part screams post-Tenrou Island and GMG arc+. One of my top favorite chapters is chapter 257 which happened after the 7-year timeskip. Natsu, Lucy and Happy traveled to visit Lucy’s father only to find out he had passed away just one month prior. Natsu offered her words of comfort and space but it’s this chapter where the lost of time was incredibly overwhelming for Lucy. I truly believe it was after this day (her BIRTHDAY no less wtf Mashima, satanic much???) that “time” was seen more precious and that every day has a meaning. Lucy’s first step of moving forward was tagging along with Natsu and Happy on a job, and her monologue just hits.

The concept of each moment being precious solidified during the GMG arc. Future Lucy lost her life to save her past self before wishing she could go on more adventures. Present Lucy proclaimed she had to laugh, cry, and live enough for both her and her future self. In Future Lucy’s version of heaven, it was Natsu who first called out to her and pulled her hand to say “Let’s continue on our adventure” before they ceased to exist.

And in the current timeline, present Lucy felt what Future Lucy felt in her heart. She then thanked Natsu, for saving her and their future.

You ask, "What am I?" I'll answer, "You're you” That assurance is all we need from each other Let’s make a wish upon the shining stars You're still you, no matter what The one who gently shines in the darkness That's right, my own Superstar A Superstar that lights up this road that goes on and on You're a star

At the end of the song, we circled back to the beginning, just like we did in the movie where Natsu asked Lucy for the second time what he looked like and she assured him yet again that Natsu looked like Natsu, obviously. And this was enough.

Natsu was the one who saved her (unintentionally) back in Hargeon thus leading her to Fairy Tail and stuck with her ever since. He became the person who she was closest to and vice versa. It was thanks to him that she got to experience so many things and came out stronger from it. Without meeting him and Happy, she wouldn’t be the person she was today. No matter what happens, as Natsu told her at the end of the main series, it doesn’t matter because they will always be together, to continue on more adventures!

I love when songs line up perfectly with the theme and this takes the cake. Thanks for coming to my TED talk as I continue to listen to this song on repeat and cry. I can’t wait until I can draw all of this out in the future, something similar to my comic here.

Also if there is an analysis of nalu + dragon cry’s ending theme out there, pls throw it my way thanks I will literally die on this hill.

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #nalu analysis #i love dragon cry sm y'all don't understand #literally singlehandedly brought me back to this franchise #and now i suffer hell bi-weekly

[goodgirlofglory]

Silver fox and the Captain - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 - /Masterpost/ - Chapter 6

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 7,1k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, SMUT, oral (f recieving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex, coming inside. A little bit of angst, fluff.

Summary: Waking up from the brink of death as a prisoner/guest of S.H.I.E.L.D you finally get a few, precious moments alone with Steve. Feelings and arousal alike rise.

Note: The big smutty send-off yay! Also why it's almost three times as long as some of the other chapters lmao. Been waiting for this one. Hope you enjoy<333

Your media consumption is your owen responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the content of the warnings upset you. Minors DNI!!!

Reblogs, replies and likes are awesome<333

Pain was the first thing to come into focus. It sheared through your unconsciousness and brought you forward like heaving you out of a dark, quiet body of water. Out from the abyss, pain dragged you forth.

You screamed, barely registering there were others with you, pulling at your limbs and speaking words to you. You kept screaming until everything went dark. 

Next time you awoke, you weren’t screaming. Barely no sound came forth from your parched throat, and you realized with a drowsy mind you were in a hospital bed. In an otherwise empty hospital room. With the most outlandish and fancy hospital machines you’d ever seen. Any of these could have you set for a year on the black market, you thought astonished to yourself as you took in your surroundings. You were in the far corner, by the window, and there were five other, empty beds in the spacious room. Across the room was a single door with a small window out to a hallway. 

Oh. Right. You'd been shot.

Wrenching your covers off, you pulled at the hospital gown until you saw your abdomen, wrapped tightly in bandages. You prodded where you felt a heated ache emanate and hissed in pain at the tender ache that responded. Several of the machines were hooked up to your arm and a flash of paranoid claustrophobia had you fighting the urge to tear them out of your flesh. Just as you started getting up, muscles aching from disuse, the door at the end of the room hissed as it slid open. 

Steve Rogers, honestly the last person you’d expect, came rushing in. He was wearing…jeans. And a t-shirt that stretched taut over his torso. His hair was tousled like he’d been dragging his hand through it multiple times, and there were slight purple smudges under his eyes. You immediately thought of his team. Did someone not make it? 

“Fox,” he said, the word whooshing out on a breath filled with so much relief you almost squirmed. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He was worried for you. 

Behind him, a flock of doctors in white coats marched through the open door. Rogers stopped a few meters away from your bed, looking at you with that open expression. You could do nothing but look back at him as the doctors started flitting about your bed, doing this and that with the machines and IV-bags hanging by the bed. 

When one of them started asking you questions, you had to tear your gaze away from Rogers, and after another minute, he silently left the room. You felt his gaze on you as he lingered in the doorway. 

§

You were in the Avengers compound. They’d taken you with them when they left the scene of the negotiations-turned-bloodbath, and saved your bloody, stupid good-for-nothing life. Rogers told you himself as he returned later that night. Well, he didn’t say the "bloody, stupid good-for-nothing" bit. 

“The doctors told me you're stable. That you’ll make a full recovery,” he said as he lingered a step closer to the bed than he had earlier. Your eyes flickered to the chair by the bed when his did, but you made no gesture for him to sit. You were fighting the ingrained reflex to escape any situation you didn’t have a pre-planned escape route from, and you had no overview whatsoever here. There was a window by the bed, but it overlooked a training yard surrounded by a tall fence and beyond there was nothing but thick, luscious forest. Your skin was crawling with the need to get away. 

“How did they heal me so quickly? I should still be on the brink of death with a gun wound like that,” you asked. 

“We have the best medical staff here, and some pretty advanced medicine,” he answered, cryptic and a bit evasive. You wanted to press, but thought otherwise. 

Rogers looked at a loss for words as he stood there, and you didn’t know what to say either. It struck you how horrible little you knew each other. Simultaneously your cheeks heated at the memory of those things you’d thought as you had laid dying. How you’d so intensely wanted to see him in those moments, and how you’d admired him as he held you. Like a love-struck fool. 

Stupid air-for-brains, you told yourself. For even now, poised for escape and reeling with the situation, some large, looming part of you desperately wanted him to come closer. To climb into the bed and kiss you. To embrace you and let you soak in his warmth and smell and safety. 

He seemed to be reading your mind, for he made a jolting step around one end of the bed, and your tiny, instinctual, answering lean forward was all the concession he needed. In a flash, he had a knee on the side of the bed, and he leaned over to capture your lips with his - equally mindless with the urge to do what felt the most natural between you, it seemed. Something turned molten inside you. He sighed against your lips, one hand coming up to cradle your face so, so gently. Probably because you were recovering. Come to think of it, your whole body was wrought with pain, a constant sting that radiated out from your abdomen, flashing every time you moved. So you let him dish out his insistent gentleness. Just this once. 

You resolutely ignored the part of you that cried out in relief at the contact, that wailed for you to get closer, to crawl into his embrace and never leave. You would let yourself have this, this intimacy, this care. But only now, only this once, when you were too weak to push him away anyways. 

He hovered over your prone form a bit awkwardly, one knee on the bed, one foot on the floor, leaning on a hand in the mattress at the side of your hand, the other barely touching as he cradled your face. 

It was devastating all the same. You felt exposed by it, chafed on your very soul. You’d never felt such tenderness, never felt someone touch you with a care for your wellbeing, a need to care for you. It made your skin tingle in a whole new way. 

Rogers kept the kisses sweet, almost chaste. Soft presses of dry lips. Soft, warm breath fanning your skin in between. He broke contact and sat back on the edge of the bed. 

“I have to go, but I’ll check up on you later,” he said, his voice low and soft. 

“Oh,” you said, realizing with embarrassment you were ready for him to crawl under the covers with you - recovering, pain-ridden body be damned. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said then, and you blanched, heat flashing through your body. “I was so …terrified when I saw you on that floor, covered in blood. So pale,” he said, voice going distant, like he was back in that hall, holding your limp body. 

You couldn’t meet his eyes. Didn’t know how. This was a form of intimacy you had no idea how to cope with. You stared down your body at your hands. You were shaking a bit. So was he, you noticed, when you peered over at his hands, perfectly and respectfully laid in his own lap. 

He got up then, and made his way to the door. You admired him, his broad shoulder stretching the fabric of his shirt obscenely. 

§

Even with the miraculously advanced medicinal treatment of the Avengers compund, recovery was slower than you’d liked. You were itching to be free of the hospital room, to move. After a week, you still had no clue where in the world this compound was, how many people were here with you, what sort of security measures you were under. They’d officially freed you from your bandages that morning, pink and tender new skin surrounding neatly stitched skin where they’d patched you up. The IVs and monitoring tubes had been removed as well, giving you another precious layer of freedom. You were convinced they had some advanced super-medicine of some kind, because there was no way you could have healed so quickly naturally. Maybe you could snatch some with you on the way out.

Not that you had anywhere to go, you realized bitterly. You could never return to your apartment, that was compromised. If Caius had sussed it out, others would no doubt manage the same if they hadn’t already. You had a sum of money stashed in an encrypted bank account online, but you needed a computer and some encryption device to access it. You had no contacts you trusted not to sell you out. And you literally didn’t even own  the shirt on your back, none of your equipment had come with you to the compound. So really, there was no use leaving. You were completely rootless, a plastic bag blowing in the fucking wind. It didn’t completely iradicate the grating need to get away though. 

To some degree, you supposed you should milk this arrangement for everything it was worth. Take whatever medicine, food, warmth and rehabilitation they would give. They would throw you out in their own time, surely. Or into some cold jail cell the sun never reached, where new dangers no doubt awaited you. 

But you still itched to get out of the bed, not used to being immobile for so long, your old instincts longing to fly over rooftops on sprinting legs. 

Rogers returned the day you got your bandages off, and honestly, seeing a familiar face in between short worded doctors and skittering nurses was a blessing. 

“Get up, we’re going for a walk,” he said as soon as he’d entered the room, dressed in a gray tracksuit.  

“Huh?” you blurted intelligently from your sitting position in the bed, idly flipping through a book someone had left you. 

“I hear you’re biting everyone’s head off complaining about being here,” he said, and there was reprimand in his voice, but also amusement. That old, curious amusement you knew so well. 

Your cheeks heated. 

“I didn’t bite everyone’s head off,” you muttered, throwing the blanket off to gently edge yourself to the edge of the bed. 

Okay, maybe you had been a bit nippy when they’d said you couldn’t leave the ward, let alone your room. Maybe you’d made some nurse cry. But it hadn’t been entirely deliberate. You couldn’t help clawing at the bars of the cage when you were used to roam free. 

“Oh, well then,” Rogers said, clearly seeing through your pathetic denial. 

You were sore and stiff, but moving with purpose felt good. You had been out of the bed, stalking around the room like some tiger in a zoo, but now it filled you with excitement to put your feet on the cold, linoleum floors. You realized a moment later you didn’t have anything but a flimsy hospital gown to wear, complete with gaps in the back. 

Just then, a gray tracksuit similar to the one Rogers wore, was tossed on the bed, a pair of sneakers joining them shortly after. 

You picked up the clothes, soft cotton in your hands, and waited for him to leave so you could change. Nothing happened for a moment, and you gave him a pointed look, trying to keep your amusement off your face. He jolted. 

“Oh, right! Sorry,” he said, quickly turning his back to you, but not before you caught a glimpse of an adorable blush sneaking across his cheeks. 

He hesitated for a moment before mumbling something to himself and then swiftly exiting the room with slightly jerking movements. 

You couldn’t stop the huff of laughter escaping you. 

What an adorable dork. 

You wouldn’t really have minded him seeing you change, (you wanted him to do much more than just look), but you figured your hospital bed in this very public space wasn’t the right place to get lost in lust. 

Exiting your room felt almost illicit after so long inside. Rogers was waiting outside, and while there were some doctors and nurses milling about in the hospital wing, no one looked twice at you. You realized you probably had the most secure escort on the grounds - if there was anyone they could feel safe to keep a prisoner in check on home field, it was Captain America. 

Rogers led you outside the compound, onto the grounds outside, and the fresh breeze and clear sky above your head was like a balm to your soul, easing a fraction of your restlessness. 

“So,” you started as you and Rogers fell into an easy stroll, “when is my transfer to the dungeons.”

You stared down at your feet, and Rogers huffed a laugh beside you. 

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said. 

Hmph, how can I not? You thought to yourself, but said nothing. 

This was weird. Very weird. Being in the same vicinity as Captain America, but without clashing tongues or the deafening adrenaline of a shootout to flood your system. You were just…strolling. Strolling along a gravel path of a neatly trimmed green area surrounding the compound. Luscious lawns, bristling bushes, tall trees and a small pond filled with ducks. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in a place this peaceful - at least not without something stolen in your bag or your heart in your throat. 

You were partly relishing the calm and partly crawling out of your skin at it. It was so foreign, and you couldn’t shake the instinct of locating escape routes and possible hurdles in them. 

“You’re so shifty right now I swear I’m sweating,” you heard Rogers murmur beside you after long, silent minutes, laughter in his voice. 

“I’m not shifty,” you denied weakly, though you couldn’t meet his eyes. 

He huffed. 

“Out of all the situations I’ve seen you in, this is the one that tilts you off your axis?” he teased, and though this banter wasn’t anything you hadn’t gladly and eagerly reciprocated before, it made you bristle now. 

“Well, not all of us can have the entire US government catering to our every need,” you said, and winced at your own hard, defensive tone. 

You walked ahead of him, feet carrying you as fast as you could without breaking into a run. 

He sighed behind you. 

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this,” he said. 

“Doing what?” you said. 

You whipped around as he walked after you, reaching you in three, wide strides that had your heart momentarily fluttering with adrenaline. 

“You’ve been involved in some pretty bad stuff, with some pretty bad people. I don’t think you have the most unbiased outlook on the world, here,” he said, looking down at you. It wasn’t his fault he was so tall, not really, but him looking down his nose at you still stoked your fire. 

He had no idea what you’d lived through, what your life had been like.

“Oh, and you do?” you snapped back. You scoffed. “Well-fed, well-clothed, protected and beloved Captain America. You’re telling me you know what the world looks like?” You laughed, a bit hysterical maybe, but you couldn’t control it.The life you had built for yourself over years had crumbled in a matter of days, and now the very reason it had all gone to shit was standing over you and judging you for finding a way to survive? “Please,” you continued after a moment, “you don’t know anything about what it’s like out there. I’m the very reflection of the world, and I’m not even the worst of us,” you said. 

He frowned. 

“Us? You really see yourself as a part of that world? Those people?” he asked, genuine. 

You halted. Did you? No. You didn’t, not really. You’d always seen yourself as a rootless half-thing, floating between worlds, not really touching down on either side of the line between good and bad. You didn’t kill people, didn’t exploit them, didn’t try to get rich off other people’s suffering, and that counted for something, right? Even if you did steal dangerous things and sold it to even more dangerous people…who no doubt used it to exploit, maim and murder. 

“I don’t think you’re like them, not really,” Rogers said after a moment when you remained silent. 

How could he think that, though? How could he possibly know that? 

There was a lump in your throat suddenly, unfamiliar and trembling, and the uncomfortable feeling of being vulnerable threatened to set your lungs on fire. You turned away from him, afraid he would read something on your face that would expose you, so fucking scared of him getting too close and seeing you for what you actually were; a lowly thief, one out of millions who’d tried your hand in the dealings of the black market and failed spectacularly once push came to shove. You weren’t anything special, hadn’t done anything to warrant his heroic treatment. The only reason you were even alive at this point was because of him. 

“Listen, I’m sure we could talk all day about our philosophical differences and the good and evil of the world, but I’m really not interested. If you’re not throwing me in jail, I’ll be out of your hair in no time,” you said. 

“Oh, it’s not up to me if you get thrown in jail or not. But I have given the people in charge my piece of mind about it,” Rogers said, and the underlying protectiveness in those words were enough to make your heart flutter slightly. 

No, no, no, no. You couldn’t afford growing reliant on him, on anybody. You needed to look out for yourself, to take care of yourself, everybody else be damned. 

You could feel Rogers presence behind you, sure and strong. You should never have kissed him, you thought mournfully to yourself. And yet now, when he stepped closer, coming to stand directly behind you and you swore you felt the very atoms in the air between you sizzle to life -  all you wanted, desperate and foolish, was to kiss him again. 

You turned around to face him before you even knew what you were doing, and adrenaline spiked in your system at his proximity; your chest nearly brushing up against his midriff. Just having him close made your blood sing. 

Daring to look up at him, you found him staring at you, his eyes flitting around on your face before settling on your mouth. His hand slowly, slowly came up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin so softly. He was going to kiss you, you could see it on his face, the decision being made in the moment. 

Holy shit, this was a bad idea. A terribly, wonderfully, mouth-watering bad idea. 

He started to lean in, giving you just enough time to pull away before his mouth met yours. 

You took a step back, and your heart sank at the expression on his face, the mild surprise followed by a flicker of pain before he collected his features into a controlled mask. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, uncharacteristically distraught by having hurt him, “I just…I think I need some…time or space or…something,” you said, trying to come up with a reason that sounded better than if I kiss you now, I won’t ever stop. 

He straightened and gave a painfully kind smile. 

“No need to apologize, I should have thought -”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said, smiling back. 

The two of you walked back in relatively comfortable silence, having exhausted the topic of conversation for the day. When you reached the second floor of the compound, Rogers led you unexpectedly away from the hospital wing. You meandered through long halls, through open conference areas and more secluded living areas with kitchens, living rooms and gyms. You took it all in with eager eyes, scrutinizing every detail of exits and turns, mapping out the building in your head. 

When Rogers at last stopped, it was outside a neutral door amongst many in a dimly lit hall just passed the living areas. He turned to lean against the door frame, smiling a bit at your obviously suspicious face. 

“Figured you might want to move out of the hospital wing as soon as possible, it’s not exactly the most cozy place,” he said, nodding towards the door. “This’ll suit you better, I hope.”

You pointed stupidly at the door. 

“This is mine?” 

He nodded again. 

Neat. Your own room. In the S.H.I.E.L.D compound. Sheer will kept your thoughts from spiraling to unattainable and foolish dreams of companionship, safety and comfortable nights spent with team members, partners and even…found family…No! This was your room temporarily. 

“Does it lock from the inside?” you asked, stepping closer and laying your hand on the door handle. 

“Of course,” he said, straightening from his lean, and the genuine, almost offended seriousness on his face had you snorting. Well meaning sod.

You fiddled with the handle for a moment, smiling to yourself, basking in the attention he was still giving you. 

And then, because you apparently had no fucking self control, you turned on your tiptoes and kissed him, your mouth pressing to his a bit lopsided. He gave the tiniest sound of surprise, momentarily frozen, but then his hands were in your hair, cradling your head to him as he kissed you back. A hot, mind-fuddling kiss that had you wanting to cling to him, his tongue instantly invading your mouth to stroke against yours in earnest.

You fumbled with the door handle before you pushed the door open, and then the two of you stumbled, liplocked, through.

You propped yourself on the wall right inside the room, and Rogers kicked the door shut before plastering you to it, his hands on your body, his tongue feverish in your mouth, the kiss turning wet and messy. 

After a searing kiss, he wrenched himself away. You tried to follow him with your mouth, an embarrassingly needy, little sound escaping you. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall, and he breathed so hard it seemed he was fighting himself to hold you at that distance instead of drawing you closer. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, and he sounded almost pained. 

“Yes,” you answered immediately, nodding eagerly, and he didn’t give you room to get any more words out before he was kissing you again, his hands trailing down your sides, squeezing your hips, swooping up and down your back to cup your ass. 

You gasped into his kiss, heart pounding from his touch. 

There was a gratifyingly hard bulge pressing into your stomach, and your blood rushed in your ears at the feeling, the knowledge that he was hard from this, that he wanted you still, that you had the time and place and the chance to have him, safe and guarded in this facility. 

And you wanted him inside you desperately. 

With shaking, fumbling fingers, you reached down and tugged first your own pants strings open before moving to his, a throb going through your body as your fingers grazed the hot, hard bulge in the soft fabric, and heard his breath hitch against your mouth. 

After tugging his strings loose, you went to tug your pants down, ready to take him inside you right then and there against the wall, but his hands around your wrists stopped you yet again. 

He leaned his forehead to yours and breathed harshly. 

“No, no,” he mumbled against your mouth, “I might have taken every chance to kiss you anywhere and at any time, but I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to have you, I would do you properly -  in a bed,” he said. 

Your breath exploded from you, a flaming lick of arousal burning its way down your body to pool down below.  

He picked you up then, hoisted you in his arms so easily you let out a squeak before wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his middle, and then he was moving through the dark room. 

You took the ample opportunity to kiss his neck, tasting the soft skin, taking in his musky, warm scent, loving the way he groaned deep in his chest when you grazed your teeth against his jaw and nibbled on his ear. 

He reached the bed in the room and dumped you to bounce on your back in the softest sheets you’d ever felt. The room was totally dark, the curtains drawn tight, until Rogers fumbled about and a small bedside lamp coated the room in a warm, yellow light. 

Then he crawled onto the bed, and you immediately spread your legs for him to kneel between. For a moment the only sound in the room was your mutual hard breathing.

He tentatively laid his hands on your knees, his palms warm through the fabric of your pants, and a shiver went up your body at it. At him in this bed, touching you in the bed, about to fuck you in this bed!

Rogers stared down at you, chest heaving slightly, eyes burning bright. But you could see his muscles straining, his hands twitching in their grip on your knees. 

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me one more time if I’m sure, I’ll jump out that window and you’ll never see me again,” you interrupted him, fed up with his overbearing respectfulness and way too worked up for him not to smother you into the mattress this instance.

He chuckled softly at your words, but his restraint snapped a moment later, and then he was over you, slotting himself between your legs and grinding his pelvis into you. You gasped at the rigid hardness of him grinding against your core, and he took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, the sound vibrating from his chest and through your body. 

“I need your skin,” you moaned against his lips, and he groaned again, grinding another hard thrust against you before raising himself enough to drag his hoodie off. You’d fantasized about his body for so long, relished and treasured every moment you’d felt his toned, powerful muscles underneath his clothes in those stolen moments in hidden corners and alcoves. But seeing it uncovered before you in all its nude glory put all your daydreams to shame. 

His skin was golden in the light from the bedside lamp, and the sparse lighting covered every divot and ripple in shadow. His shoulders were broad to the point of obscenity, his arms rippling and veined, promising such strength it had your thighs trembling. His pecs and abdomen were chiseled from stone, muscles rippling with his breath, his stomach tightening and untightening. You wanted to touch it all and, realizing you could, lifted your hands to trail down his abdomen, curling your fingers in the trail of soft, dark hair below his navel. He followed the movement with his eyes, but they fluttered shut when your fingertips lightly traced the bulge on the front of his joggers, felt it twitch as you teased it with a knuckle.  

He slapped your hand away, then, and before you knew it, he had wrenched your pants along with your underwear, socks and shoes off, leaving you naked from the waist down. You had but a moment for your cheeks to heat at the exposure before it deepened when he lowered himself to lay on his front between your legs, draping one of your legs over his shoulder while spreading the other out on the mattress, exposing you fully to him. 

He paused for a tiny second, and you were about to cuss him out for stalling again when he gave you an almost sheepish look. 

“I gotta say, I’m not really that experienced with this, but I really, really want to taste you,” he said, voice husky, almost pleading - like you’d deny him going down on you just cause of his lack of experience. 

Quite the opposite - you were partly elated at his confession, your breath coming out half sigh, half sob. For, living the life you had, you didn’t exactly have a trail of lovers scattered around the world. You had basically none, actually. 

You put a hand in his hair, looking down at him mere inches from your pussy. 

“I’m not really, either. Please,” you said, not sure how to confess your lack of experience yourself. 

He nuzzled into your palm before laying a kiss to it, and then he lowered himself to lay an almost coy kiss to your mound, nuzzling into the hair there. Your breath hitched at the hot puff of air against your sensitive skin, and you could feel how wet you were by the way the air cooled the slick on your skin. 

His kisses moved lower, moving over your hooded clit and then along your lips and then right over your hole before his tongue licked a broad stripe upwards towards your clit again. 

Your back arched as he delved in, and for all the fumbling and sloppiness, he brought twice the enthusiasm, and soon his hands were clutching the tops of your thighs, keeping you firmly from squirming away as he assaulted your flesh with his tongue and lips and precarious scrapes of teeth. It was all so good, so overwhelmingly good. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, groaning when you put a hand in his hair, clutching the blond strands in your fist. You realized you could come like this, that the edge was deliciously within reach, but you were too impatient. You needed his weight on you, his cock in you. You needed him, the previous months of built up longing welling up to the surface. 

You tugged his hair hard enough for him to lift his head to meet your gaze. He looked positively drugged, disheveled, heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide, and the amount of slick he’d gotten on his face shone on his skin and open mouth in the dim lighting from the bedside lamp. 

“I need you inside me. Now,” you breathed between hitched breaths, tugging again. 

He seemed adorably torn, like he wanted to follow your plea, but wasn’t ready to abandon his feast yet. 

He came easily when you tugged him again, though, crawling up your body with hunger in his eyes. His hands went to your hoodie, fiddling with the hem and grazing the skin underneath.

“We need to get this off you, then,” he said, voice deliciously gravelly, tugging the garment up and over your shoulders. 

You were completely naked now, a spread of goosebumps appearing where your skin met the cool air of the room. Your nipples pebbled to hardened peaks atop your breasts, and Rogers couldn’t seem to help himself as he reached down and ran the pads of his thumbs over them, almost reverently. 

Then his hands, so gentle they almost didn’t touch, slid down to the healing scar tissue on your abdomen. Honestly, it didn’t look that bad - they had put a lot of care into making it neat and smooth, and it was almost entirely healed, only a raised ridge of lighter skin remaining of the initial wound. But Rogers eyes gained a gloomy hue, fixing on the wound with brows that furrowed. 

Before you could reach out to him or say something to break the tension mounting, he hunched forward and pressed his lips softly to the scar. Your breath caught in your throat as he kissed around the area with small, lithe kisses, hands cradling your sides. 

Fuck, you thought, and wondered if you’d start crying soon for the way your throat closed up. Your breath trembled coming out of you and Rogers looked up at the sound before returning, kissing your mouth with equal care, and the kiss told you a thousand words; all his concern, care, regret, guilt and not least of all, relief. You took it all in silence, deepening the kiss as heady arousal rose between you again.  

His hardness hadn’t dissipated much, the bulge almost intimidatingly big, and there was a small wet spot shining through the fabric of his pants. It made your mouth water. 

You reached down and clasped the hem of his pants, and he helped you wrench them down along with his underwear. He kicked them off with his shoes and socks and then he was as naked as you were, crawling back between your legs. 

His skin was scorching hot against yours, his weight and size dwarfing you into the mattress, careful though he was not to put pressure on your healing abdomen. He looked down at it and then up into your eyes again. You could see in his gaze, the worry that he would hurt you. But your words from earlier probably rang in his head, and you liked that he took your threat of disappearing serious enough to head it. His cock, hot and hard, lay against your thigh, pulling your focus to it like a gravitational pull. Your skin cooled where his leakage smeared it, and you squirmed for how fucking hot it was. You nodded to him, quickly, a bit desperately, not giving a fucking damn if it would hurt. Something as stupid as a healing gunshot wound would not stop you from having Steve Rogers inside you. 

You felt your need welling up inside you at that thought. God, you wanted him so bad, felt so empty without him, needed him to stuff you and override every one of your senses. Your pussy throbbed in agreement. 

In your bold need, you reached between you and grasped his cock, skin surprisingly soft over the veiny, rock hard shaft, and fitted the leaking, shiny tip against your drenched entrance. You gulped at the size of him in your hand, but you had never been afraid of taking a leap before. 

“I’m gonna suck you off later,” you promised, not quite registering how the intrusive thought had left your mouth before you were done. You felt your eyes widen in shock at your own brazenness. You’d never sucked anyone off, why the fuck would you say such a thing. You dared look up into his eyes and found him looking at you with a mix of amusement and undilated lust. “If you want,” you added belatedly. You still held his cock in your hand, holding it to your weeping hole. It twitched in your hand as Steve smiled at you, flashing brilliant, white teeth. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. 

A thrill surged through you at his excited tone. 

“Y-yeah?” you said, so stupidly giddy that he wanted you to suck him off. 

“Yeah,” he answered, voice going low and husky, before he claimed your mouth like he just couldn’t stop himself. “But later,” he groaned against your mouth and pushed his hips slightly forward, his cock sliding through your hand and against your hole. 

You nodded, answer turning into a gasp against his still smiling mouth. 

You both looked down to watch as his tip notched at your hole, and then he slowly started working his length inside you. He groaned while your breath hitched, and, almost like you sucked him in, he slid inside until his pelvis nudged yours. 

His groan turned into a small gasping sound, a goddamn whimper, and you’d never heard such a gorgeous sound. God, he was going to be the death of you…

The pressure between your hips was exquisite, his cock literally like an anchor inside you, rooting you to the spot, making every organ and cell and atom in your body rearrange themselves to make room for him, singing with a mix of pain and pleasure you knew you could get addicted to quickly.  

“Fuck, it’s big,” you whispered, clasping the pillow under your head as your hips twitched, feeling him throb inside you. 

His brows furrowed and he bit his lip. 

“Yeah, s-sorry about that,” he said, and his muscles seemed strained as he held himself still, giving you time to adjust. 

You brought a hand up and clasped it around his neck, bringing his eyes to yours. 

“Fuck me with it,” you breathed, before pulling him down to bruise his lips with yours. 

His answering growl was almost feral, and then he pulled his hips back to grind forward, deeper, lodging himself within you in a swaying grind, back and forth, back and forth, as his tongue worked in your mouth. 

Your muffled moans were joined by the slick, wet glide of his grinding cock going in and out of you, and you hitched your knees up to squeeze his waist, tilting your pelvis to take him deeper yet. Digging your knees into his side, you sucked his lower lip into your mouth when his grinds turned deeper, when he pulled out further before thrusting in harder, working up a rougher rhythm that pounded you into the mattress. 

He groaned as you clamped your teeth into his lower lip, his thrusts going harder, and his hands went into your hair, clutching you, holding you so tightly, the sheer possessiveness in his hold made a more resounding thrill rumble through you. 

A particular thrust hit that spot inside you, nudging up against your cervix, and you squeaked, your hands clutching his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” he growled as your nails dug into his shoulders, his cock hitting that spot again. “Fuck, that’s it, god you feel so fucking good,” he continued, voice strained. 

You were gonna come, you were so close, your mind hazy with it. But you needed that final nudge over the edge. 

Like reading your thoughts, Rogers propped himself on one elbow, licked the tips of two fingers and brought them down to rub at your clit, flicking the swollen nub almost gently for the way his hips picked up, pistoning your heat. He coaxed you towards your climax, and you were helpless, your hands moving into his hair, clutching his neck, struggling to kiss him back as he pushed his tongue into your mouth again and again. 

“I’m gonna come - I’m gonna - “ you gasped, and he moaned sweetly against your lips. 

“That easy? No banter this time? No teasing?” he teased with a wicked smirk against your lips, clearly finding satisfaction in you crumbling in his hands. 

“Fuck you,” you half sobbed, half laughed in his face, his answering grin adding butterflies to the churning of pleasure in your belly. He was so deep, you didn’t know it could go so deep.

“Yes,” he sighed, continuing exactly as he had, his hips moving in a steady beat against your pelvis, bullying your cunt while his fingers moved almost teasingly against your clit, playing with you so good, keeping your pleasure so securely within his control. It was intoxicating, giving in to him like this. “God, how I’ve wanted you to,” he whispered before claiming your mouth again.  

You fell over the edge with a strangled cry, spasming out under him, your knees locking around his waist, pussy pulsing around his cock. He grinded you through it, a broken groan spilling from his mouth into yours, and then he stilled, tensing. 

You felt his cock pulse alongside your pussy, and clutched him to you as you relished him coming inside you, relishing finally, finally feeling him come. 

He slumped down over you, your chests heaving against each other, and his heavy weight was like a soothing blanket even as reality crashed down on you. You’d just fucked Steve Rogers, Captain America, and you had absolutely no idea where you stood with him, where you stood with his organisation, where you stood in the world in general. You were free falling right now, rootless and groundless, and yet, laying here under Rogers made you feel safe, if only intermittently. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and inhaled his scent, savoring it. 

He raised himself all too soon, propping himself on his elbows and withdrawing his softening cock before you could lock your legs over his back and keep him inside. He smiled, lazy and sated, and you found yourself reciprocating earnestly, smiling stupidly up at him. 

He gave your nose a peck that irritably made your stomach flip, and then he rolled off, groaning as his back hit the mattress at your side. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed after a moment, your body aching in the most pleasurable way. 

Rogers laughed gently at your side. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, and you saw him turn his head to you in your peripheral vision. You rolled your head to meet his eyes. They were bright, full of satisfaction and still brimming with hunger. They dipped to sweep over your body before returning to your eyes. He rolled to his side and brought his hand up to trace lithe fingertips down your sternum, over your fluttering stomach, around your scar and up again. 

Your breath hitched slightly at the touch, and a new flash of arousal bloomed deep in your belly. You took his hand in yours and brought it up to your mouth. Taking one of his fingers into your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the digit, enjoying how his eyes glued to the display. The heat in his dark gaze grew with a crescendo, and a thrill went through you. 

“Y/N,” you whispered against his hand. 

His eyes widened. You kept yourself from laughing. You repeated the name, some weird feeling of release blooming in your chest. 

“That’s my name,” you continued when he only stared at you, feeling uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. 

He repeated the name in a sighing whisper, and it felt like a prayer. Again you wondered what you had done to deserve him, deserve the sheer reverence with which he treated you. But you knew better than to voice that wonder out loud. No, you wanted to bask in it, soak it all up and lock it deep inside you where no one could reach to take it from you. 

He looked at you like he’d won somehow, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, and you decided to let him believe it. If it kept him looking at you like that, you found it wasn’t so bad letting him think he had the upper hand. Little did he know he’d already given you so much more. You gave his body a once-over, noticing with interest that his cock was half hard again, or maybe it never went down completely. You cocked your brow at him as he kept smiling like the cat that got the milk. 

“How long before you can go again?” you asked. 

He flashed you a mischievous, almost feral grin before rolling on top of you. 

“I can do this all day.”

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