#sorry i don’t want this bogged down in reblogs

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 9 - The Calm

We're back baby! Chapter 10 will definitely be up at some point this week but I'm not going to put a time limit on it in case I get bogged down with life etc. Thank you once again to everyone who has liked, reblogged, commented, and messaged you are all actual 'sweethearts'.

Chapter warnings: MDI (18+ only), explicit language, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, over use of pet names, sex without a condom (reader is on the pill), creampie.

_______________________________________________

Your dad picks you up from Indianapolis Airport just after 6am the following morning, holding you tightly for a good 20 minutes before you both could pull yourselves together, and get back on the road. 

“I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye to the twins.” You mumble tearfully, forehead resting against the passenger window.

“That’s not your fault sprout. That goddamn Philip, if I'd have been there I'd have laid his ass out.” Your dad seethes, and you can't help but smile, your dad is a good ten years older than Philip, slightly overweight with a heart condition, but you’d still bet money on him. “First thing I’m going to do when we get home is call your mother and give her a piece of my mind.”

“Dad, it’s not worth it.” You say tiredly. “She’s made her choice, and it’s not me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you a better person to be your mom, kiddo.” He sighs sadly, patting you on the cheek.

You drift off for a while, the gentle rocking of the car soothing along with the quiet radio, it's not until you're 20 minutes outside of town that you wake up properly, stretching as best you can in the cramped car. Your dad is whistling quietly along to John Denver, as you pass the sign for Forest Hills Trailer Park, you wonder what Eddie is up to, thinking about how he talked you down last night.

You told him you missed him, it was a brutally honest moment, never expecting him to return the sentiment. You supposed it was natural to miss someone when you had spent just over a month with them, but you knew it ran deeper than that, you could have called anyone last night but you needed Eddie.

You finally pull onto the drive, the weight of yesterday feeling stronger again, you’re exhausted from all the tears, the pain of your mother’s rejection, the sleepless night in the airport.

Your dad takes your bag out of the trunk, unlocking the door, you toe off your sneakers and notice a fishing rod and tackle box to the side, suddenly remembering your Dad’s plans for the long weekend; fishing at Patoka Lake with his buddies.

“Oh Dad, I'm sorry, you were supposed to be on your fishing trip!" You cry feeling awful.

"Hey, don't worry about it sprout, there'll be plenty of other trips over the summer." He reasons, dumping your bag down. "Besides, you're more important right now."

"But you've been looking forward to it for months. Why don’t you call Dale? You can still make it up there. I’ll be ok on my own.” You say earnestly,

“I dunno kiddo.” He says scratching his head. “You being on your own after last night doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Well how about I call Robin? See if she wants to stay over?” Knowing damn well Robin wouldn’t be the person you were going to actually call. You could see the turmoil in your Dad’s eyes, you sigh hugging him round the middle.

“Dad please go fishing, I just need a girl’s night, ice cream, crying, watching Grease.” That did it, and you couldn’t help but smile as he tensed in your hold, your dad hated Grease.

“You sure sprout?” He asks, hands practically itching for the fishing pole.

“Positive.”

____________________________________________________

You do feel a small twinge of guilt at your white lie as you wave your dad off, but it quickly evaporates into a strange sense of excitement and anticipation at the idea of having Eddie in your house. You rush to the phone in the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter as you listen to the rings, cord twirled tight about your hand.

“Hello?” A gruff much older voice than Eddie’s answers, this must be the illusive Wayne, or rather the Wayne you’ve been tactically avoiding.

“Oh - uh - hi Mr Munson, my name is Y/n, I’m a - friend of Eddie’s, is he around?” You don’t know why you’re stammering so much, although it might be because the inappropriate part of your brain is screaming ‘Hi Mr Munson, I’m booty calling your nephew, also we’ve banged on your couch - sorry.’

“You wanna speak to Eddie and you’re a girl?” He asks, sounding surprised and it throws you for a loop.

“Um - last time I checked, yes Sir.” You mumble, laughing awkwardly.

“You’re a girl and you’re calling for Eddie?” He clarifies again. “Alright - he’s outside, let me get him.”

The line goes silent for a moment but then you can hear Wayne call something out and Eddie’s voice getting closer.

“- jeez Wayne, why you gotta be so - Sweetheart?” He’s out of breath.

“Hi.” You say simply.

“You ok? You home? Are you safe?” He asks rapidly and you wonder if he’s been worrying about you all night, it made your heart do a funny flip.

“I’m fine Ed’s, I crashed at the airport and caught a flight out just before 4am, I got home about an hour ago.” You reassure him, hearing him exhale heavily.

“You had me so scared last night.” He mutters.

“Yeah, it was intense.” You agree, wiping your clammy palms on your jeans, now feeling nervous. “So, uh I was wondering and you can say no, but my dad has gone fishing for the weekend, did you maybe wanna come over and -” 

“- yes.” Eddie jumps in before you can finish. “Uh, sorry, yeah I’d love to come over, if that’s cool?”

“Yeah it’s cool.” You say smiling, swinging your legs slightly against the counter.

“What time do you want me?” He asks. A loaded question.

Whilst your urge to see Eddie is strong you look like shit, desperately needing to sleep, shower and get groceries.

“Dinnertime? Does six work?”

“It works, see you then princess.”

___________________________________________________

You had briefly called Robin in between your nap and going to the store, filling her in on the events in Chicago, and that Eddie was coming round for the evening. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who went through some shit last night.

“-come again?” You ask, ears ringing slightly.

“Steve and Nancy had a big fight yesterday.” She sighs, and you can hear her pacing in the background.

“What about?” You ask, biting at your thumb.

“He didn’t really say, well more he wasn’t in a fit state to say, he was hammered by

the time I got to him. But if I deciphered his slurs correctly, Nancy had booked plane tickets to go and see Jonathon next weekend without telling Steve.”

“Shit.” You breathe, sitting down on your bed. “I mean maybe she just forgot to tell him?” You offer weakly.

“Doubtful. Either way it sounds like they both said some pretty hurtful things to each other, I think they might be on a break.” She says seriously.

You felt dizzy, you had left Hawkins for all of 24 hours, everything was bright and breezy, you came back and Steve and Nancy are on a break?

“So, Eddie was a lifeline yesterday huh?” She asks, snapping you back to the present.

“Yeah.” You say quietly, mind reeling. “He was really sweet.”

“What’s your plan for tonight?”

“Uh, spaghetti.” You mumble, shaking your head slightly to clear Steve’s image from your head.

“- and?” She presses.

“And spaghetti, Rob.” You laugh wryly.

“Well, whatever you crazy kids are calling it, be safe!” Robin teases, and you flush.

“Ok, bye, Robin, hanging up now!”

“No - wait! Call me tomor-” You put the phone down, running your hand across your face, Steve could be single. Could be, but his track record said otherwise, and his voice from last month was clear as a bell ‘-me and Nance, we always find our way back to each other. I can be myself around her, you know? No bullshit, it’s easy.’ 

“It’s a blip.” You mutter aloud. “Not worth thinking about.”

_______________________________________________________

You should have ordered pizza, good god why didn’t you just order pizza?! You had to go to three different grocery stores in order to get everything you needed for Bolognese, which took up an extra hour of your time. The tried and trusted recipe of your Nana’s inexplicably failing you after 9 years of flawless service, maybe she didn’t approve of your dinner guest. The pasta had clumped together in the water, leaving a stodgy mass, the sauce was weirdly acidic and salty having caught on the hob, and you’d slopped red wine down your white t-shirt when the cork shot out. At this rate the garlic bread would be the only thing edible.

Ding-dong.  The doorbell sounded more akin to a death knell.

You glance at yourself in the hallway mirror as you run for the door and groan, your hair frizzy from the cooking steam, face flushed, the large wine stain looking like you’d thrown up blood.

So why, when you open the door, is Eddie looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen?

“Hi.” He grins, leaning against the porch, he’s trying to affect a pose of nonchalance but you notice his left leg is bouncing slightly.

“Hi.” You say breathlessly, attempting to smooth down your hair. “Where’s your van?” You ask, peering past him to the empty driveway.

“Oh, I parked it up at Gareth’s, didn’t want your neighbours to give you a hard time, tell your dad or something.” He answers sheepishly.

“You didn’t have to, Mrs Roberts is blind as a bat.” You laugh, thumbing to the house on your right. “You wanna come in?” You ask, awkwardly jumping to one side, realizing you’re barring the doorway.

“Thanks.”

You watch him take in the lower part of the house from the hall, consciously slipping his battered Reeboks off onto the doormat, hanging his jacket up carefully on the coat hook.

“Nice place.” He says, smiling widely as he looks at a picture of you on the wall, taken when you were in kindergarten, bright yellow dress and bows in your pigtails to match. “Very cute.”

“Shut up.” You laugh, shoving him lightly, he catches your arm and brings you in for a bone breaking hug. You wrap your arms about him instinctively, his head pressing to the top of yours, rocking you slightly.

A lot of unsaid things pass through, it's a hug of comfort about what happened with your mom, it’s a hug of missing each other, it’s a hug that’s needed by both parties and you find yourself burrowing a little closer. He pulls back after a minute or so to look at you properly.

“You good?” He asks gently, thumbs rubbing across your cheeks.

“'M good.” You mumble, smiling softly. He leans down to kiss you when he stops just shy of your lips, to sniff the air.

“Do I smell burning?”

“SHIT!” You shout, pelting towards the kitchen, smoke billowing from the oven. You grab some mitts, and extract a heavily cremated loaf of garlic bread, coughing as you heave it into the sink.

“Aw honey, you baked.” Eddie croons, wrapping his arms about your waist from behind, you can feel his chest vibrating with barely held in chuckles.

“It’s a disaster.” You whine, leaning back into his embrace.

“What was it supposed to be?” He asks gingerly, lifting a saucepan lid to examine the spaghetti log.

“Spaghetti Bolognese.” You sigh.

“Well, points for effort princess.” He laughs openly, spinning you in his arms. “Do you have ramen noodles?”

You grab two packets of ramen from the pantry as Eddie pulls on an apron with a flourish tasting the sauce, wincing slightly. “You got any sugar?” He asks.

You dutifully pass him the sugar bag, watching as he eyeballs a small amount of sugar into the pan.

“My old man is a shitty person but he always knew how to make a mean pasta sauce.” He notices your curious expression, holding the spoon out to you, the sugar has managed to balance out the acidity and salt. 

“Salvageable.” You nod impressed.

Eddie dumps the dead spaghetti into the sink on top of the still smouldering bread, putting fresh water into the pan along with the ramen noodles as you pour the rest of the wine, handing him a glass.

“It’s supposed to have tasting notes of cherries, chocolate and cinnamon.” You read off the bottle label, sniffing yours.

“Tastes -” He takes a healthy gulp “-like wine, so - fucking gross.”

 You laugh, passing him the colander for the noodles, and grabbing some pasta bowls and cutlery.

It’s a sickeningly domesticated scene, the two of you sat at the breakfast bar, knee to knee, slurping away at the strange dish.

“Well sweetheart, we’ve managed to insult two great nations at the same time, cheers to Japan and Italy.” He grins lifting his glass of wine in a toast.

“Or we’ve created some kind of new fusion that will take the world by storm and we’ll be rich.” You counter argue.

“Oh yeah, this is some Michelin Man shit right here.” He says, taking another huge forkful.

“Michelin star.” You correct, laughing, feeling lighter than you have in hours.

You wash up the dishes together, Eddie constantly finding excuses to touch you, until you flick dishwater at him.

“Ah, now princess, play nice.” He warns, wiping his sudsy face with a smirk, pinching your side. You cup a large handful of bubbles, advancing on him menacingly.

“You wouldn’t.” He challenges, eyes narrowing.

“Try me Munson.” You dare.

“Truce?” He asks carefully, hands raised in peace.

You nod, letting him get close again before shoving your wet hand up his back.

“Oh you’ve done it now.” He laughs loudly, grabbing the dish cloth aiming a whip towards your ass.

“Eddie no!” You screech, rounding the breakfast bar, chucking an orange at his head.

“It’s war Y/n!” He yells, chasing you, you race out of the kitchen pounding up the stairs to your room, giggling wildly, you’re just in the door when he seizes you about the waist, lifting you off the floor.

“Ed’s put me down!” You gasp, laughing so hard it hurts your ribs.

He pretends to suplex you into the bed, but he’s gentle as he lowers you, protecting your head from the bounce hovering above you.

“Do you submit?” He asks breathlessly, hair mussed up, t-shirt slightly wet.

“Never.” You say defiantly, the effect somewhat lost as you trace your hands up his arms.

He presses his lips to yours, the last of your breath leaving you in a pleased gasp as he deepens the kiss, hands stroking idly up your slides and across your stomach.

“Missed you sweetheart.” He murmurs against your lips, your heart pounding like you’ve run up the stairs again. 

“Missed you too.” You mumble quietly, fingers scratching gently through his hair. “Wasn’t gone for that long though.” You remind him.

“Doesn’t matter, you weren’t close by, I didn’t like it.” He says, brown eyes staring intensely into yours, your mouth feels dry, filled with a jumble of words that don’t quite make it out. You settle for bringing him in for another kiss. Time seems to stand still, as you both lay there, absorbed in each other’s mouths, hands wandering, squeezing, stroking, until he suddenly stops a confused expression on his face.

“Ed’s?” You whisper, chest heaving.

“Who - do we have here?” He asks with a smirk, you feel your eyes widen in embarrassment as he extracts your childhood teddy bear from under your back, having forgotten to put him in the closet earlier. “This is a very respectable looking teddy bear princess, does he have a name?” He teases, making the bear wave.

You glare at him, making a snatch for it.

“His name is Bearington Bear the Third and he’s very old, so gimmie.” You pout, blushing.

“Bearington Bear the Third?” Eddie repeats with unbridled joy. “That is one hell of a name.” He laughs but relents in passing you the bear which you quickly kiss before unceremoniously throwing it across the room.

“That is no way to treat an elderly person.” Eddie gasps scandalized, you’re about to punch him when your phone rings making you jump, you roll away quickly grabbing the receiver.

  “Hello?”

“Hey kiddo, just thought I’d check in.” Your dad says, sounding very cheerful.

“Hey Dad, yeah everything’s all good here.” You say, trying to ignore Eddie who has decided to place kiss after kiss to the side of your neck. “Uh- how’s the fish?” You ask, elbowing him away but it just spurs him on, nipping at the soft skin.

“They’re biting pretty good, got a couple cooking up now. Gordon and Dale say hello.” You snag your lip on your teeth, as Eddie sucks on a particularly sensitive spot, attempting to lean away from his touch. “Sprout, you still there?” 

“Yeah I'm here dad, just uh - got distracted by the film.” You mumble shakily, a kiss pressed dangerously close to your mouth.

“That Travolta boy shaking his ass about again?” He asks with a laugh.

“Um - s-something like that.” You stammer, Eddie’s fingers splayed across your naval, threatening to move lower beneath the band of your leggings.

“Alright kiddo, I'll let you get back to it. Have a good night with Robin, love you.”

“Love you too Dad.” You slam the phone down as Eddie slips his fingers into your panties, lightly circling your clit.

“That was fucking mean Eddie.” You gasp, back arching into his chest. 

“Sorry baby, I just couldn’t help myself.” He groans, sinking a finger into your tight heat.

“Fuck.” You whimper, bringing an arm back to curl around his neck.

“This fucking pussy, jesus.” He growls next to your ear, nipping at your lobe, another finger pressing past the wetness gathered between your thighs.

He pulls you backwards so he’s resting against the headboard, your back pressed to his chest, legs cradling you as he pumps in and out, turning his head to kiss you, tongue fucking your mouth in the same rhythm. It’s maddening, his free hand cupping your breast, thumbing over the nipple, his hardness rutting against your spine.

“Ed’s.” You whine, hips rolling to meet his movements. 

“Let me get you there baby.” He huffs. “Wanna make you feel good.”

He slips from your cunt to rub rapidly at your swollen clit, the warmth moves slowly from your belly, washing across you in a gentle wave. You mewl into his mouth, Eddie swallowing every sound with his own.

He shifts out from under you, letting you fall back against the pillows, hands pulling at your leggings and panties, hooking your legs over his shoulders, tongue flicking straight at your sensitive bud. It’s like he’s making out with your pussy, wet, sinful, decadent. 

“Oh - god.” You stutter, hands gripping at hair.

“Feel good sweetheart?” He asks needlessly, fingers re-entering your cunt, crooking them to rub against the spongy spot that has you immediately cresting again, hips canting against his mouth.

“Eddie, fuck me please.” You beg.

“Your wish is my command.” He grins, stripping in record time, you pull your wine ruined top off, both of you bare and wanting. Eddie’s face falls suddenly.

“Shit! I forgot to bring condoms.” The poor boy looks devastated and you can’t help but giggle.

“Ed’s c’mere.” You beckon, he does as he’s told, crawling back between your plush thighs. “I’m on the pill, I have been for years.” You soothe, hands running over his back.

“You - you are?” He stammers, ears bright red and burning. “And you don’t mind me -” He trails off looking at you pointedly.  “ - I mean I'm clean, I've had the checks.”

“I’m clean too, and no I don’t mind.” You grin bashfully, he looks like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh holy shit this is hot.” He breathes, cock braced in his hand, sliding through your slick, you nod vigorously, the skin to skin feeling electrified.

He pushes in and you both gasp, you can feel every vein, bump and ridge as he drags along your walls. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so warm.” He moans, head dropping into your neck, kissing at your pulse point.

“Eddie.” Is all you can say like a record stuck on repeat, each thrust and snap intensified, the wet slapping of your bodies meeting in a delicious slide.

“Wanna ride you.” You murmur, sucking on his bottom lip.

“Jesus H Christ you’re gonna kill me.” He groans, rolling you both so you’re on top, you brace your hands on his chest, helping you to bounce, Eddie holds your hips so tightly you can feel bruises blooming and it sends you to dizzying heights.

“Baby, baby, baby.” He chants, grabbing the back of your hair, smashing your lips together, his hips pounding up into you. You rub at your clit, whimpering as the coil winds tighter and tighter.

“You gonna cum sweetheart?” He asks moving faster, and you can only nod, writhing on top as the band snaps.

“Oh god, I can feel you.” He whines, head pressed back as he ruts up harder. “Where - where can I cum princess?” He asks desperately, looking like he’s barely clinging onto sanity.

“Inside. Eddie, please cum inside me.” You cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

Eddie makes a choking noise, the veins in his neck strained tight, strong hands working your slick cunt over him continuously as he pumps into you. It sends you over for a fourth and final time, the warmth of him spilling out and around, both of you clinging to each other like life preservers.

“Sweetheart, I -” You wait for the rest of the sentence, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears but he just gathers you impossibly tighter, pressing a hard burning kiss to your swollen lips. “ - I have a great time with you.” He breathes fiercely.

“I have a great time with you too, Eds.” You whisper, kissing him back.

Taglist:

@avalon-wolf @mystars123 @lolalanaie @eddiemunsonsgf2@eddieslildarling@bakugouswh0r3@sidthedollface2@81rain@blueberrylemontea-fanfic@winchester-angel@bimbobaggins69@tuskjohnny@fckyeahlames@thecomfortgoth@alanamarie@miarosso@ghosttownwherenoonegoes@somespicystuff@eddiethesexy @unfocused81 @1paire2vans @take-everything-you-can @mynameismothra @kingaa101

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+ #strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #friendly sex fic

[wasyago]

To the anon asking about starting art (and all others who need help)

1. Definitely find a unique art tag or have a separate blog. It makes it a lot easier to peel through your art! I personally think it’s super annoying to follow an artist who makes it difficult to actually see their original posts without a lot of digging. And maybe this is a sideblog where you reblog main-blog art posts! Whatever you’d like, just make it obvious where to find it all.

2. The first 10 tags are the ones that show up best in search, so be picky! If you do fanart, definitely tag the characters first, and keep general stuff like ‘fanart’ or ‘digital art’ for later. Keep ramblings to the end! You only get 30 tags, so choose wisely.

3. Post often! And it doesn’t even have to be new every time. Whether it’s reblogging others’ art, your own art, answering asks, etc., this will help you not get lost on the dash. You don’t have to do 10 posts a day. Or even 1 post a day. There’s no algorithm, but it’s tough if you do one post a month (like I do), bc most of your followers won’t see it without lots of self-reblogging.

4. Have a signature that shows your art handle. That way, if it’s reposted, or your blog gets lost somewhere along the way, the source can be traced more easily. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve wanted to find an artist whose signature is just a scribble or their name.

5. Don’t look too closely at follower count, we don’t want you spiraling!! Especially on tumblr, some artists with huge followings get few notes, and some artists with tiny followings get tons of notes. Don’t worry about it! Everything happens with time.

6. And while we’re at it, try not to get bogged down by notes either. Some posts flop, some soar. Sometimes the 10 minute sketch gets more attention than the 8 hour painting. It happens! The cool thing about tumblr is that as long as a post is circulating, it can still gain attention. Don’t forget to self-reblog!

7. Have a place (maybe your art blog, maybe a side blog) to reblog other people’s art. The only way that stuff gets circulated here is through reblogs, so if you want to give back and show your appreciation, spread the love! Likes do nothing here. And if you want to make friends and mutuals, write fun tags if you feel like it! I’ve met a ton of great artists that way. When people start keysmashing or writing essays in the tags, it’s the best feeling.

8. Get involved! Often you’ll see things like big exchanges going around, those are lots of fun. When you make mutuals, do collabs and art trades! Dtiys, drawing fanart for your favorite bloggers, leaving asks and comments and tags, all that stuff! It’s a great way to make friends and learn a lot along the way.

And have fun!!! Tumblr is a wonderful place to build and be part of a community. Love, a 5-year tumblr artist <3

(Sorry for this beast in your inbox lol)

!!!!!!!!! thank you anon

#wow thats a lot #anon #yagotalk

[dyinglikenarcissus]

How A Heart Breaks

Warnings: This is a 18+ series! But this one is clean too. Lots and lots of angst though. Death mentions. We’ve all seen the movies. It is what it is. Grieving, and not grieving very well, funeral, abandonment issues, there’s a break up, and cheating if you tilt your head just right. I think that’s all

Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️

Oh my gawd almost 8k words I am so sorry

Previous Chapter | Master List | Next Chapter

Weeks later you find yourself staring at Steve’s hands while he works on his computer. You two are supposed to be studying together but your mind has been so far from you ever since Bucky’s last call. Sure, you hadn't had a phone call with him in a long time but normally you got emails, messages, pictures, anything. But your husband had gone radio silent since that call.

Steve sighs and sits back in his chair. You don’t even notice he’s watching you because you’re so lost in the daze, your paper on the effects of pollution on a specific species of star fish completely forgotten.

“I know that face, sweetheart. Thinking about Buck?”

“Yeah,” you sigh distractedly. “I mean! Um! I’m sorry, Stevie,” you groan and wipe your hand over your face.

“You wanna talk about?”

You sigh again not wanting to bog him down with your military wife issues. You joined a Facebook group for that. “No,” you whisper.

“He hasn’t written you?” You give your head a small shake. “That happens sometimes. He’s probably off on some mission and hasn’t had a moment to do at anything else. Or the weather’s been so bad that they don’t have power for nonessentials.”

“Yeah. I know.” Everyone in that group had the exact same thing to say. You just felt like something was off.

“Hey,” Steve calls sternly. You look up at him and he’s got his captain face on, staring you down like he’s going to demote you if you don’t step in line. “I’ve been there. I know what I’m talking about. And if you need to vent, vent, but I promise he’s fine.” You nod and look back down at your computer. “Focus. Bucky wouldn't want you failing over him.” Your lips quirk up at his words but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

When you finally tucked into bed late that night you had trouble sleeping, opting to read over your notes for your finals the next week into the early hours.

You finally started to doze off and your left arm begins feeling a little numb. You figured it was from leaning on it weird or you worked it a little too hard in the gym the previous day. But it continued to bother you to the point where your couldn’t relax at all. Throbbing pain exploded from your shoulder to your finger tips leaving you a whimpering curled up mass on your bed. Tears stung your eyes as the pain only got worse. You attempted to examine it for injuries but it burned to touch it. A guttural cry escaped your lips when you tried to flex your finger only resulting in a jerky twitch of the muscles.

Your muscles throb like there’s tiny cuts across your skin and you were just doused with salt and lemon juice. You can only cry in pain as you attempt to wiggle away from your arm, thinking if you get away from it, the pain will stop. You bury your face in you pillow to muffle a scream but when you look back at your arm, blood its spurting from your shoulder and the entire limb is gone.

You let out a blood curdling scream and feel the world rock around you.

You hear your name distantly and try to focus on it but you can’t stop screaming.

“Wake up! You have to wake up!” You hear the voice plead.

And you feel a stinging slap across your face and gasp sitting up, meeting your roommate’s chest.

“Honey? Hey! You were having a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re in your room. Nobody is here but me and Nat. Do you hear me?” Wanda asks attempting to calm your heightened senses.

You take a few gasping breaths and glance around your room. It all felt so real.

You look down at your arm, the one you just imagined in excruciating pain and missing. There it was. Intact.

You flex your finger and you find that they’re numb. You roll your shoulder a couple of times hoping to get the blood flowing through it before focusing on your roommates.

“It felt so real,” you whisper.

Wanda gives you a tired smile. “I know the feeling, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?”

“My arm felt like it was on fire and then it was gone,” you explain, rubbing the offending limb with your right hand.

“Gone?” Natasha asks, she’s on the bed on the other side of you.

“Like someone cut it off. There was so much blood.” You voice is a murmur, attempting to rationalize with yourself before you shared it with others.

“Were you watching those gory movies again?” Nat asks and pulls the numb arm from your grip to massage it softly. “See? It’s still here. I’m touching it, too. You’re fine.”

You were not fine. But you nod. “Did you slap me?” You ask, your senses slowing flowing back into you. You couldn’t miss the sting across your cheek.

“You were screaming bloody murder. I didn’t want the cops called on us,” Nat smirks and brings your knuckles to her lips to place a soft kiss there.

“You’re stressed,” Wanda diagnoses with a sigh. “The semester’s almost over so we all are. But you’ve had a lot on your mind lately. I understand it would manifest in your subconscious as a nightmare. We’ll discuss it more in the morning but you need to sleep.”

“Have you been at this all night?” Natasha asks picking up a notebook that fell to the floor during the ordeal.

You nod shyly and press your body down into the pillow. “I’m sorry to worry you. Thank you for checking on me,” you whisper.

“Of course,” Wanda smiles sleepily. “We’re your best friends. We’ll always be here.” You nod once.

“Want us to stay with you?” Nat asks pulling back the sheets to get comfortable before you even reply. She knows you’ll say yes. She wraps an arm over your chest while Wanda curls up next to you.

“You’ll be alright,” Wanda smiles as you curl into her.

But you weren’t alright.

Two days later there was a knock at your door. Steve was there with two uniformed soldiers. You knew exactly what was going on. You’d seen enough movies. You thought you prepared yourself for this but you can’t even bring yourself to face them.

“No,” you frown at the blond.

He looses one of his heartbreaking sighs and you want to the world to swallow you whole so you don’t have to hear what’s next. “Sweetheart-“

“No!” You shout at him and attempt to run back to the comfort of your room but Steve stops you, gripping your still numb wrist. You attempt to glare up at him but tears fill your eyes. He pulls you to his chest and holds you there, completely enveloped in him.

Then you hear his soft sob.

His whole body shakes as he holds you. You reach up to grip the back of his shirt letting out a wail you didn’t know you had in you. You want to sink to your knees and keep sinking until the world around is as cold and damp and limp as you feel.

“I can’t,” you cry. Can’t what? Process what’s happening? Feel the emotions battling for dominance in you heart?

Live without him?

All of the above?

Steve has a much tighter grip on his emotions. He wipes his tears with the side of hand before working on yours.

“You have to be strong right now,” he instructs. But you don’t want to be strong. You want to give up, throw yourself out a window, jump in front of a train, crash your car.

“I can’t,” you croak still buried in his chest.

“You can and you will,” Steve assures you and it breaks something in you. The cries cease and you let him lead you to the couch where the two men sit across from you. You listen but you don’t hear everything.

Train accident. Body never recovered. Unsurvivable.

Your tears stay in check but you squeeze your fists so hard your nails draw blood from your palm.

You hear Wanda’s consulting and Natasha’s tough love but you don’t process it. You register your hands slowly pried open and your self inflicted cuts taken care of but you don’t feel it.

“There’s grief counseling available-“

“She doesn’t need counseling! She needs her husband!” You hear Nat snap and everything refocuses.

“If there’s no body, how do you know he’s gone?” You whisper.

Steve squeezes you around your waist. “Is there anyone out there looking for him?” He asks in an authoritarian voice that you can’t help but look up at him.

“There were, Captain Rogers, but the weather has been inhabitable for the past week and no one could survive a fall from that height.”

“You don’t know Buck. Nothing short of an act of God would keep him from her. I’ll go out there myself and find him if I have to.”

“Rescue measures are being taken but they have to wait out the storms.”

“Jesus,” Steve curses as Nat bandages your hands. You should probably cut you nails. Or get them filed to points. Anything to stop thinking about this.

“I want my husband,” you frown, finding your voice again.

“We’re doing everything in our power, Mrs. Barnes,” one of the soldiers insists. You keep your gaze on your lap as they continue talking. You’re given papers and a folded flag but Nat takes them for you and shows them the door.

Once they’re gone Steve releases a heavy breath and slumps next to you.

“Oh, honey,” Wanda cries and falls to her knees to wrap her arms around you. You shake your head softly and look to the man next to you. He releases a sniffle and buries his face in his hands.

His tears break you.

You can’t be here anymore.

You break away from your friends. Out the front door. Straight to your car. You press the unlock code on the door and pull the spare key out of the glove compartment and drive. You don’t know where to go. You don’t have anywhere to go. Your parents are gone. The rest of your family didn’t want anything to do with you. All your friends were back at your house which was the last place you wanted to be.

Except for one. Well, two.

They don’t find you until the next day. You sit at their bar holding a steaming cup of tea while starring at a metal wall decoration. ‘Higher. Further. Faster.’ You sigh and wonder when so much of your friend group became ex-military.

“Romanoff.”

“Danvers. Are you hiding our roommate?”

“I might be,” the blonde snarks. “And she might have expressed that she wants to be alone.”

You hear Nat scoff. “Yeah, right. Alone with you two and not us: her best friends.”

You sigh at the brewing fight when Maria walks in hearing the commotion. “Hey,” she frowns at her girlfriend. “She doesn’t need to hear this. Close the door or take it outside.” Why couldn’t you be as strong as her? As strong as all of them. You just ran away from your problems and it only took them a day to catch up with you.

“I’m not leaving without her,” Nat snarls.

“Fine. You’ll have to go through me, though,” Carol warns and you instantly knew you came to the right place to hide out. She might not share your affection but she was loyal to a fault.

“This is ridiculous,” Nat sighs and calls for you. “Get out here! Now!” You feel tears pool in your eyes again. You can’t face them. They warned you not to fall for him. They warned you to keep your heart guarded. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. And they were going to think you’d lost it when you tell them what’s been on your mind.

“Sweetheart,” you hear Steve choke though the catty insults. You perk at his voice in an instant. “Please don’t do this. Don’t block me out. We need each other.”

He was right. Bucky was your common denominator. And he’d lost so much more of him than you. “Sweetheart,” he chokes and the tears fall from your eyes.

“You can let them in. I’m ready,” you whisper to Maria and hope Carol hears.

“You sure? Because Carol can take them. The big one might take some time but she’ll get it done.”

You smile despite yourself and scoot off the bar stool. “I’m sure she can. Thank you,” you whisper and she pulls you into a hug. Carol begrudgingly lets them in.

Steve rushes you in a tight hug, burying his face in your curls. You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders and hold him close.

“Please, don’t do that to me again,” he begs in your ear.

You didn’t realize your presence meant so much to him. You squeeze him a little tighter before he pulls away.

“Alright. We spent all night getting her to stop crying. Don’t you dare upset her!” Carol hisses at your friends.

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “They didn’t do anything to me. I just couldn’t be at home. I needed to think.”

“And what did you come up with?” Wanda asks sincerely, taking your hand in hers.

You glance between them. They won’t get it. But you have to voice your opinion or you’d be trapped in your own head until you were proven otherwise. “I don’t think he’s gone,” you whisper. You waited for the chorus of doubts but the group remained quiet. “I-I think I would know,” you stutter. “I would feel it, I think.” You scoff at how you’re explaining what is going on in your head. “Until they bring him to me, I have to believe he’s still alive.”

You notice Natasha’s frown and she opens her mouth to respond but Steve speaks before she has a chance to.

“I agree,” he starts. “It doesn’t seem right. With all the technology available to them, they should be able to confirm if a solider is dead or not. They didn’t even bring you his tags.”

Nat gapes at the exchange in front of her. “Psych major,” she addresses Wanda, “fix this!”

Wanda’s features are a trained neutral. “There’s nothing to fix. They’re both mentally healthy and well adjusted people, if not a little quick to act. This is just a part of the grieving process.”

“You can’t tell me this is a part of the process,” Nat mutters and crosses her arms.

“Denial is indeed part of the process,” Wanda confirms quietly, “but I don’t need to tell you that.”

“Look, I know it’s crazy but I’m a scientist. I need proof,” you insist.

“There’s no pictures. There’s no body. There’s no proof,” Steve agrees.

Natasha scoffs and gives you both a hard look. “We won’t be weird about it but let us have this,” you plead for both you and Steve. Mostly you. Because you feel like he’s only agreeing to this for your sake but you’re grateful to him.

“Fine!” Natasha finally hisses. “Fine. Whatever. Live in your bubble where everything is fine. Just keep me out of your delusions. To me, he committed an unforgivable act and I’ll talk shit about him any chance I get.”

“Natasha,” Wanda frowns. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I fucking told him to let her go! I told him! I know what war does to people! I told him if he hurt her I’d never forgive him and now look at where we are!” You sigh and bury your face in Steve’s shirt. His strong arms wrap around you pulling you close. She probably warned him until she was blue in the face. Probably told that if he didn’t die overseas, she kill him herself when he got back. She was intense like that and that’s why you love her but right now, you just need a hug. And maybe some food.

“Hey,” you mutter pulling your face from Steve’s chest. “Do you guys want to get some breakfast?” It was the first thing they’d all readily agreed on in a long time and you appreciated it. “Stevie took me took this place near the city where I cried until I felt better. Maybe it’ll work again.” Steve actually chuckled at this notion. It was raspy from tears and lack of sleep but it was a laugh and you’d take it.

———

Time passed and though you missed your husband immensely, you kept it between you and Steve and sometimes Wanda and Sam to avoid Nat’s wrath. It felt strange to ignore an entire part of yourself but you did it to keep your best friend. You held his funeral at his mother’s house. It was strange meeting the woman for the first time without your husband by your side. But Steve was there. He helped you pick out flowers and you baked a pie that Bucky claimed was his mother and sister’s favorite. You hoped to make a good impression on the woman that was technically your mother in law but the first thing she did when she saw you was burst into tears. “You’re exactly the kind of woman I imagined my Jamie would marry,” she sobs in Steve’s arms. You pass off your pie and pull the woman into a tight embrace and cry with her.

Needless to say, it was an extremely rough day. But you survived it. And you went home and had a couple ill advised drinks with Carol and Maria and promptly passed out on their couch.

Probably not your best performance but you got better for finals. Aced all your exams because it’s what Bucky would’ve wanted, watched Steve and Sam graduate, and went to Tony’s huge end of the year party.

Of course with Steve and Sam graduating, they’d be moving out of their apartment which meant you finally had to pack up Bucky’s room. You and Steve got together to fold up his clothes and tuck his things into boxes. Steve ended up finding his stash of your nudes which turned him completely red while you fell into a fit of giggles.

“You can have one for the road,” you offer. “A whole lot of good they’re doing me. Just in case I forget what I look like naked,” you trail.

“Peggy would actually kill me,” Steve laughs making you laugh harder.

“She’s missing out. This could be the ménage à trois of the century,” you joke but he just gives you an odd look that you can’t read which is rare since you’ve spent so much time with him. You could pretty much read him like a book at this point.

“Speaking of Peggy. I’ve decided to try England.”

“Really?” You grin looking up at him.

“Yeah. For right now, just a couple of months to see how it works out. Until I start my contract with American.”

“Look at you! And you said you’d never go back to Europe.”

“The things I do for love,” he sighs.

You smile and scoot closer to him on the floor and rest your hand over his. “Make the most of it. You’ll be out there with the woman you love in the country she loves. You’re going to have a great time.”

He releases another sigh then smiles sadly at you. “I’d hate to leave you, sweetheart.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I am a grown ass woman! I know Bucky told you to take care of me but I can handle myself. I did it for nineteen years before I met him and I can do it for at least nineteen more.” Steve only chuckles at your bravado, no doubt remembering how you couldn’t figure out how change the filter on you coffee maker and it was literally just a button or the countless other times he had to rescue you from yourself. “I’m serious, Stevie. I’ll be alright. I’ll figure myself out but you have a life and a girl waiting for you. Don’t fuck that up on my account.”

He suddenly frowns at you and pulls you into a hug. “It’s so strange how similar you two are,” he mutters into your hair. “Bucky would’ve said the exact same thing. I can almost hear his voice sometimes when you talk.”

“I think that’s what it like when you find your other half,” you whisper. He pulls away from you and finally a smile reaches his lips and the two of you finish packing.

A couple weeks pass and the man that had become your rock hops on a plane to Europe with the love of his life and all you’re left with is the exciting prospect of summer school.

Fun.

You soon fall back into the routine of school and hanging out with Wanda and Natasha. Sometimes Vision and Bruce would accompany them. And sometimes you’d hide out with Carol and Maria when you missed hearing war stories.

“So there I was completely out of fuel on some island in the Atlantic ocean, hundreds of miles from anything and a fucking private yacht just happens to sail by,” Carol recounts enthusiastically.

“No way!” You grin.

“Way! I felt like fucking Jack Sparrow surrounded by coconut trees and sea turtles. Tell her, Maria!”

“We were about to send out a search party and everything. She went silent for a week.”

“I was living it up in the Bahamas,” the blond smirks.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Maria grits before whacking her girlfriend’s arm making you giggle. You miss this stuff. Tales of peril and survival. That feeling of living vicariously through someone else gave you doses of serotonin and you couldn’t get enough of it. “Tell her about that time we flew that top secret jet,” the dark skinned woman then prompts and Carol does not disappoint.

You lounge on their couch while Maria shows you pictures of their planes. You can tell they miss flying immensely and they don’t get nearly as much time in the air as they did while in active duty. Carol was even building her own plane at the local private airport and Maria was supervising the process. It started off as a mystery as to why the one with the engineering experience wasn’t building the plane but you quickly found out that Maria didn’t approve of this endeavor and she just kept an eye on Carol so she didn’t get herself killed in her DIY flying deathtrap.

“And this is Sally. We flew over a hundred successful missions together.”

“No shit,” you breathe looking at the picture of Maria in the cockpit of grey bomber. You could easily glimpse a photo of Carol tucked into the instrument panel. These two are so fucking adorable. Your phone starts to chime in your pocket and you hand Maria back her phone to deal with your own. A picture of Steve and Bucky at the carnival where you went on a double date early on in your relationship appears on the screen and you light up.

“Stevie! How’s France?” You greet excitedly.

“Terrible. I getting on a flight home in the morning.”

“What? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He sighs and you can practically hear the irritation radiating off of him. “It’s a lot,” he groans. “I don’t really want to talk about. I just called to see if you can pick me up from the airport tomorrow. I’d get an Uber but it’d be nice to see a friendly face.”

“Of course! Send me your flight info. It sucks that its not working out but it’ll be great to see you. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too, sweetheart.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smile.

“See you tomorrow.” And with that the line goes dead and a sigh escapes you. Steve’s coming home!

“What was that about?” Carol asks placing a bowl of nachos and guacamole on the coffee table.

“Stevie’s coming home!”

“Rogers? Wow. That didn’t last too long.”

“You sound really excited about it, too,” Maria jokes.

“Yeah, almost too excited. You got a thing for your husband’s best friend?”

“No!” You say a little too defensively. “I just missed having him around. We got really close after Bucky was deployed.”

“Sure you did,” Carol teases.

“Really close,” Maria sings.

“Will you two stop it? I’m married. He’s in a relationship. There’s nothing going on.”

“Stevie! Of course I’ll pick you up at the airport! Do you need your dick sucked, too? I eat ass!” Maria mocks your enthusiastic tone making you fall into a fit of laughter.

“That was one time and with my husband! I made him wash it like five times before I even got close.”

“Yet there’s video documentation of it so you must be pretty proud,” Carol insists with a laugh.

You groan and get up from your contorted position on the couch. “I’m going home. I don’t have to be subjected to this.”

“Go book a bikini wax. Get your girl all pretty for it’s new owner,” the blond continues.

“Oh my god,” you mutter and pull her into a hug then Maria. “Bye! Love you both.”

“Love you!” They chime together and wave as you head out to your car.

As much as you want to deny it, letting Steve bury his cock it you didn’t sound like a terrible time. You bite your bottom lip at the thought of him tearing you apart but then quickly get a hold of your brain.

He doesn't want you like that.

He only sees you as a friend. His tie is to Bucky. He keeps you close out of obligation. Besides, who wants to be with a girl who prays for her husband to come home every night before crying herself to sleep? No self loving man and certainly not Steve. He had his pick of the flock. Why would he want you?

You sigh to yourself and enter your empty house. Wanda and Vision are on a date and Nat’s studying at the library. So you’re left alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t stop you from dolling up for him. Torso hugging sundress, light makeup, you even straightened your hair. You roll your eyes at yourself at how far you went for a man you don’t even want to date.

Maybe saying you don’t want to date him was going a little too far. He’s a great man. Probably a great boyfriend. But there’s so much working against you. You blink against the feelings as you pull into the arrivals zone. You spot the blond instantly; leaning against a large roller bag with a duffle slug over his shoulder.

“Stevie!” You cry jumping out of your car.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins and lifts you into a spinning hug leaving you giggling. “I missed you so much,” he mutters into your hair before finally placing you back on your feet.

“Missed you, too,” you whisper rubbing his full beard. You’ve never seen him with a beard.

He places a soft kiss on your head before tossing his stuff in the trunk.

“Thank you for picking me up,” he sighs and makes himself comfortable in the seat next to you.

“Of course. So, where to now?”

“Honestly, I just really want a good cheese burger.” You laugh and know exactly where to take him. “Jesus, this is perfect,” the blond moans after taking his first bite.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t like any of the food over there,” you mutter dipping a fry in your milkshake and taking a bite.

“I’m a simple guy. I like hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches but they don’t have American cheese.”

“You’re telling me there’s no American cheese outside of America?” You gasp playfully.

“Alright,” Steve attempts to stop you before you can read him for his land of the free privilege.

“It was probably called European cheese and no one told you,” you suggest.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with Tony, I would’ve called him,” he warns with a smirk.

“Fine. I’ll be nice,” you smile.

“Thank you.”

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

Steve groans and nibbles on a fry. “I don’t even know where to start. We fought from the second we got there about everything. Stupid stuff like who does the laundry and sides of the bed. We’d just find stuff to argue about. And everything there is so small. I’m a big guy.”

“Very big,” you agree with a smirk.

“I couldn’t fit in the shower! And the beds were small and the couches! Don’t get me started on the couches!”

“Did you miss your reclining modular sofa?” You laugh.

“Immensely! I feel like I haven’t stretched out in a year.”

“You’re an American sized man. You need an American sized world.”

“Exactly! It’s so good to be back home,” he sighs and stretches across his side of the booth.

“Speaking of home; where are you staying?”

“American got me a hotel in the city until I can find a place.”

“A hotel?” You frown. “You can stay at my place if you want.”

“No. I don’t want to put that on you.”

“Well, the offers there if you want it,” you assure him with a small smile.

“I’ll gladly take you up on our regular sleepovers,” he grins. “And I’m sure I have a back log of stories to read.”

You sigh and glance away. “I haven’t really written anything since you left. Since Bucky-“ you don’t even know how to finish the sentence. “Since no one’s reading them.” Steve hums and reaches across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You haven’t straightened your hair in a long time,” he comments. You smile slightly at the fact that he noticed the effort. “I miss seeing your curls. You’re gorgeous either way but you know that.”

“Steve,” you mutter attempting to look away but he grips your chin softly forcing you to look at him.

“When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful?”

“I think Wanda did this morning while she helped with my hair.”

“Damn. You know I was fishing for another answer?”

“Language, Stevie!” You giggle. “And I know. I’m just making sure you work for it.”

“Difficult. Just like your husband.”

“You seem to be drawn to difficult people.”

“I like challenges.”

The two of you finish your meal and you drop Steve off at his hotel with the promise to visit the next weekend. And it’s like you two are instantly back in your old groove: sleeping in each other’s beds and taking each other out on ‘dates’. It was nice. You missed how easily the two of you got along.

And then work started for him. And he worked a lot!

For now, Steve got a week off every month but getting a traditional weekend varied. Sometimes he got a day. Sometimes he didn’t. But whenever he was in New York, he was always with you. Dragging you out for a nice dinner in the city or to a movie or sometimes just climbing into your bed to get some well deserved sleep with his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

“Hey, Stevie,” Wanda greets when the two of you stumble downstairs after staying out all night and getting home just in time to watch the sun rise. “You need to start paying rent. You sleep here so often.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so used to being here.” The strawberry blonde chuckles interrupting him.

“We don’t mind. It makes her happy. All she did was mope around and hang out with Carol and Maria when you were gone.”

“You moped?” Steve smirks running a hand through his bed tousled hair.

“She’s making stuff up,” you argue.

“Oh no! Don’t try that shit. I have multiple witnesses of your moping including the new neighbors.”

“Sweetheart!” Steve gasps.

“She hasn’t done it in a while but she’d stand outside and stare at your old door like she was waiting for one of you to come out.”

“Wanda,” you whine at the woman telling all of your depression secrets.

“What?” She shrugs with a sly grin. “He should know.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Steve asks giving you a stern look.

“No,” you answer firmly and continue to the kitchen to make you both some breakfast.

“He likes you. You know that, right?” Wanda tells you as she corners you in the kitchen long after Steve left that same day.

“Who?” You ask with a lifted brow and you stir tonight’s dinner.

“‘Who?’ she asks. Steve!”

“What? No!”

“Yes, he does,” Wanda insists pulling you by the hands to force you to focus on her.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s just hanging out with me because Bucky asked him to. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“What doesn’t mean anything?” Natasha asks walking into the kitchen no doubt wondering when dinner will be done.

“Steve hanging around so much,” you mutter.

“Oh? Because he wants to fuck your brains out,” the red head informs the two of you.

“No, he doesn’t,” you state firmly.

“Yes, he does,” both Wanda and Nat counter.

“Have you seen the way that man looks at you?” Nat interjects. “He looks like a starving man looking at a four course meal and he wants dessert first.”

“He looks at you like you’re the best thing in his life,” Wanda adds.

“He looks at you the way Tony looks at Pepper,” Bruce says as he follows his girlfriend into the kitchen.

“No one asked any of you how he looks at me. He probably looked at Bucky the same way because we’re friends!” You cry.

“Or because he wanted to fuck Bucky, too,” Nat mutters snatching a tomato from the tossed salad.

“You’re all insane,” you mutter into your gumbo.

“No! We have eyes and we can see. You keep pushing this wonderful guy into the friend zone even though we all know you want to fuck him, too. You have to move on or he will,” Natasha frowns.

“And we’ll be stuck picking up the pieces of you. Again,” Wanda sighs and pulls plates and bowls from the cabinets.

“He wouldn’t,” you whisper so quietly no one else in the room hears.

But he does and it almost makes you sick.

Some blonde tramp he met at an airport. She works for the government and has her entire life figured out. Great body, great skin, great hair.

Nat and Wanda were completely full of it to say Steve was even remotely into you after introducing you to her.

He introduced the two of you after a long two week stent away from home. You were looking forward to having Steve all to yourself for a week. You had movies planned, new restaurants to try, the whales were migrating so you wanted to take him whale watching. And all of those plans were dashed when he showed up at your door with her on his arm.

“Sweetheart! I missed you!” He grins holding his arms open for you to leap into but you didn’t miss the other woman standing next to him.

“Stevie,” you squeal excitedly as he spins you in his arms.

“Steve, aren’t you going to introduce us?” A sultry voice asked to your right. You peak over his shoulder to finally get a good look at her. Floral blouse tucked into high waisted pants. A pair of high end pumps. Designer bag slung over her shoulder.

She’s perfect.

“Of course. Where are my manners?” Steve chuckles. He releases you so your feet touch the ground but doesn’t take his arms from around your waist. You don’t remove yours from his shoulders either. “Sweetheart, this is Sharon. Sharon this is the famous Mrs. Barnes.”

You grin and wave at the strange woman.

“She’s actually one of Peggy’s distant cousins. Crazy how small the world is,” Steve jokes.

“Absolutely insane,” you agree. “Are you in town for a few days?” You ask the woman.

“No, I live in the city. Steve and I met on a layover in Texas.”

“Oh! You were in Texas?” You ask the blond wrapped around you.

“I was. Brought you this,” he holds up a gift bag and you hope it’s the shoes you’ve pining for for a year. This native woman in Texas makes them but she doesn’t have an internet presence and doesn’t ship outside of the state. “Hope they fit. If not, I’ll be back there next month.”

“Thank you, Stevie!” You cry and hold him tighter.

“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he mutters into your hair. The woman clears her throat and you begin to wonder why she’s spoiling your time with your Stevie.

“This is the one you wanted to introduce me to?” You ask quietly.

Steve nods and pulls away, “You ready to go?” You spin for him to get his approval of your outfit. It was one of Bucky’s favorite sundresses. You could sit on his lap and it was so frilly that no one could tell you were keeping his cock warm while the two of you shared a picnic lunch or watched a movie.

“Beautiful,” Steve grins holding out his arm for you to walk down the stairs. You grin and follow him to his new car.

You were pissed.

Today was supposed to be for the two of you. The first day together in weeks. Yet here she was. You knew he wanted to introduce the two of you. As the closest thing to his late best friend, he wanted your approval.

So far, she wasn’t getting it.

You hid you disdain at sitting in the back seat as you watch the rural landscape become urban and you finally enter the city. Steve opens your door for you then Sharon’s and wraps an arm around her waist possessively. You frown at the motion. It should be your waist his arm is around. It should be your temple he’s pressing his lips against. It should be you.

When did you become so possessive over the blond?

You don’t want him. You’re married. You love Bucky. Steve is anything but Bucky. Steve is uptight, a stickler for rules and order, you’ve never heard him utter one serious curse word in the time you’ve known him. He trusts the government for Christ’s sake.

You stamp down your jealousy as he opens the door to a high end restaurant.

“Three for Rogers,” he tells the woman near the door while you attempt to make small talk with Steve’s date.

“So, what do you do exactly? All Steve’s said is that you work for the government,” you start, looking up slightly at the taller woman.

“I watch for terrorist threats and confiscate possible weapons of mass destruction,” she explains as if she were simply a secretary.

“Wow!” You smile and try not to show how impressed you really are.

“And what about you?”

“I’m still in school. Studying marine biology. I just want to save the whales and sea turtles.”

“Noble,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. You’re both sizing each other up and this is sure to end ugly. “Steve told me your late husband was his best friend so the two of you are close. I’m sorry for your loss.”

It still hurts to hear it.

You just give her a small smile and follow Steve to your table. You haven’t quite figured out how to respond to the sentiment. You doubt you ever will.

“But you weren't together long, right? Less than a year?”

You nod. “He was still my other half. I felt it when he-“

“Sweetheart,” Steve interrupts you, pulling out your chair. “Don’t go down that road. You’ll only hurt yourself,” he warns before placing kiss on your temple as you sit. You nod and stare out the window instead of paying attention to the conversation in front of you. Why was it so easy to send you spiraling? Your eyes burn and you excuse yourself to the restroom.

Breathe. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. A tear inevitably slips from your eye but that’s all you’ll allow. You touch up your make up and put on a brave face.

The waiter is already at the table when you return.

“There she is,” Steve smiles and attempts to get your chair but the waiter beats him to it with a warm grin.

“I was just explaining the specials but if there’s something you don’t like, I can pull some strings in the kitchen,” the man assures you with a smirk.

“Oh? Is that allowed?” You giggle.

“For you, there’s exceptions.” You can’t help but bite your lip to hold back a smile.

He sends you a free drink and Sharon grins at you. “He’s totally flirting.”

“No!” You deny quickly and scoot the drink to the edge of the table. It doesn’t look like anything you’d like anyway.

“Come on! It’d be rude to at least not try it.”

“If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to,” Steve sighs, irritated at the situation for some reason.

When the waiter returns with the food he cocks his head at you. “You didn’t like it? I knew I should have sent over the daiquiri. The bartender said the long island is popular. Should’ve gone with my gut.”

“They both sound good. It’s just a little rude to send me one and not the rest of the table.” Steve hides a chuckle. “But it was a very sweet gesture.”

The second the man walks away Steve smirks at you. “You’re definitely Bucky’s wife.”

“I can’t believe someone married you with that attitude,” Sharon snarks with an eye roll.

“I’m not interested in handouts,” you sigh and focus on your food. But after the meal is done a round of desserts arrives at the table.

“Is this a grand enough gesture?” The waiter asks retuning to the table.

You finally give the man a once over. He’s good looking. Tall. He’s got that rugged unkempt look to him but he’s a little too put together to sell the bad boy persona. “I never got your name,” you smile.

“Peter Quill.” He slides you a card with his number and you don’t even notice how you flutter your lashes for him as you introduced yourself. But Steve does and now he’s pissed. You can tell as it sours the rest of your day. He pouts at the natural history museum and doesn’t say a word on your walk through Central Park but you and Sharon easily fill the silence. For some reason you feel a bit lighter. Guys never flirted with you. Probably because you always wore your wedding ring and they assumed you were married to the muscular blond you were constantly out with. But this helped boost your frail ego just a tiny bit.

Steve dropped Sharon off at her apartment with the promise that he’d be back as soon as he got you home.

“What was that?” Steve frowns as soon as he’s back in the car. You moved to the front seat with Sharon gone and give him a quizzical look.

“What was what?”

“That Quill guy? You were all over him!”

“I was not!” You defend yourself and cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not like I’ll ever call him, anyway. It just felt good to feel wanted,” your voice tapers off at the end of your sentence. Steve glances away from the road for a moment to give you a hard look but he drops it.

For the moment.

“I don’t make you feel wanted?” The blond asks as he parks in front of your apartment.

“Of course you do, Stevie, but not…not sexually.” You roll your head to look out the window at the car parked next to you. “I’ve felt tainted ever since…” you trail not bothering to finish your thought. “I’m a widow. That comes with this weird stigma. Like my husband will rise up and retaliate if someone starts to like me. Or I killed him and I’m looking for my next victim. I just hate explaining myself to everyone!” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m just…very lonely, Steve.” You thought you’d at least still have Steve but he’s moved on.

So should you.

“I’m really tired,” you whisper. “I had fun. Sharon seems nice. I’m glad you found someone.” The words pour from your mouth in quick succession as you get out of the car and enter your home as quickly as possible. It takes a while, but you hear a car speed off and you finally feel safe enough to step away from the door.

You slip off your heels and start toward the stairs when the lock clicks behind you. The tears come before you even have a chance to turn.

“You stubborn little woman,” his authoritative tone breaks down every wall you thought you put up as you stare up at the blond soldier. “I practically threw myself at you but you didn’t want anything to do with me. And now that I found someone, you’re upset?”

“Yes, I’m upset!” You cry. “I didn’t want you to find anyone. You had me!”

“I need a little more than cuddles and movie nights!”

“I just need time, Steve!”

He opens his mouth to retort then quickly snaps it shut before stalking toward you. “I’m going to kiss you and then you can tell me if you still need time.” His lips meet yours and you practically melt under him. They fit yours so perfectly. Your knees start to buckle and he catches you around your waist with a firm grip. It’s almost better than-

He pulls away before you can finish your thought. You search his gaze, lust blown pupils stare back at you expectantly. Fresh tears spring from your eyes.

“I can’t,” you sob. “It still hurts!”

Steve just pulls you into his arms and attempts to quiet your tears. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I pushed you too far. It won’t happen again,” Steve promises as he pulls you into his lap on the couch but it only makes you sob harder.

Knowing he won’t try to kiss you again anytime soon.

Knowing he won’t try to push you.

Knowing your relationship will go right back to the platonic place it’s been residing in all this time.

Because you really liked that kiss.

Steve didn’t return to Sharon’s apartment that night. He stayed firmly wrapped around you as you slept.

That relationship didn’t last much longer after that. And your relationship with Steve turned into something far stranger than what it had been.

You went out on dates, had movie nights, slept in each other’s beds. But now you stole kisses every once in a while. Steve never initiated them. He never flirted beyond the scope of your friendship. He just let you feel it out. A peck as you got ready for bed, or when he picked you up for dinner. You had your first full on make out session during movie night as his place. But you never let it go beyond a kiss. Removing his hands from your waist if you felt too stimulated or putting space between the two of you if neither of you felt like behaving.

And Steve was always the perfect gentleman as usual.

But you can tell his patience is wearing thin.

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Tag List:

@helenasmirkedno

@ramp-it-up

@captainamerica-is-bae

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@bitchacho25

#the boys next door series #college au #steve rogers x black female reader #steve roger x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #Steve Rogers x black!female!reader #bucky barnes x black!female!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x black female reader #stucky x black!female!reader #stucky x black female reader #stucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #thank god I’m done

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Never Too Late 3

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (later in series)

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re turning forty and life seems to be forging ahead on its one way track, that is until you meet Steve Rogers.

Note: Figure I’d give this a quick update :)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Series Masterlist

After you saved Steve’s number to your phone, his first text was unexpected. Just as you finished your dinner, your cell buzzed and you read his message. ‘Hope you’re having a great night.’ You had given him your number so you could run together, you hadn’t expected anything else. ‘Thanks. You too.’ The reply was simple. Courteous but short. Perhaps he would get the hint.

But he texted again. ‘Another mission tomorrow. Enjoy your run. Be back in a few days.’ You felt awkward and uncertain. How did you respond to that? You supposed you were friends but there was a barrier there still. Not like your other friends; old friends, now. The same humour tossed back and forth wasn’t there. You felt a sense of formality; of expectation. He was Captain America. You couldn’t share your dark anecdotes with him.

‘Good luck.’ You replied. He sent a smiley in return. You left it at that and plugged in your phone across the room. You didn’t want to worry about him. You had one more day off before you were once again back to work. A day to yourself. Not that you ever spent much of your time anything but alone.

Sunday came and went. Laundry, tidying, chores. All that after another run around the park. Your muscles were loosening up and you felt decent. No more frozen pizzas but greens and baked chicken. You were changing, a little at a time, but it was something.

The next day, even after your morning exercise, you arrived at work enlivened. You had to admit that Steve’s gift had come in handy. You didn’t have to fumble with your phone for the time or even to check your messages. It was all on your wrists; your steps, your heart rate, your alarms.  

Even so, you still felt a pang of guilt looking at it. He was too nice. Yet you wouldn’t let your mind wander far when you asked why. He had told you. Friends; running buddies. Simple as that. Maybe it was a novelty for him to meet someone who wasn’t entirely starstruck or to have someone who wasn’t in the same line of work as him. Or maybe he was secretly laughing at the old woman and her scuffed sneakers.

And there were other changes. Not just the physical adrenaline of your new habit. You felt a little less suffocated by the window around your counter, a little less annoyed by your eclectic co-workers, a little less bogged down at the end of the day. You started tracking your meals on the watch app, too.

The days ticked off easier and the mornings were less groggy. New York was brighter even as August came to an end. Forty wasn’t so bad. You wouldn’t let it be. You couldn’t. You’d wasted enough time.

Steve returned the following Sunday. A whole week away. You were surprised as he caught you a block before the park.

“Must’ve been quite the mission,” You remarked as you passed under the archway which led to the park. 

“It… was,” He said hesitantly. “Look at you.”

“What?” You glanced over.

“Nothing, you just look… happier,” He replied. “And you’re moving a lot better. Forty looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And the watch,” He added.

“Yeah, it’s… thank you. It’s really helpful.” You ceded.

“Another few weeks and I won’t be able to keep up with you,” He jibed.

“Don’t patronize me,” You said.

“Serious.” He insisted. “You know it’s okay to be proud of yourself. Progress is always progress. No matter how small it seems.”

“You ever think of being a life coach?” You said. “You could really make a buck off the suckers who buy into that stuff.”

“Life coach?” He repeated. “I never heard of that.”

“Oh, you know, they get paid to give you a smiley face sticker for waking up every day,” You said. “Wait, I think they call themselves accountability consultants, these days. Sounds more like my mother.”

He laughed as you headed up the incline.

“Am I that inspiring?” He asked.

“Not the word I’d use,” You said.

“You think I’m bad but this is me in easy mode,” He said. “You haven’t seen me in Captain mode.”

“Captain mode?” You snickered. “Sounds awful.”

“So I’ve heard.” He said as he stopped. You skidded and spun back to him. “Drop and give me twenty, soldier.”

“What?” You shook your head. “Come on, Steve.”

“Not until I see twenty,” He said. You weren’t sure if he was kidding. You laughed. “Captain mode.” He got closer. “Hands shoulder width apart,” He commanded. “Knees straight.”

You stared at him as your chest flurried. You blinked and his hands went to his hips.

“I can’t-- Steve.” You said.

“You can’t or you won’t,” He challenged. 

You grimaced and checked your watch. You weren’t even halfway done your run. You got down slowly to the ground, cheeks burning, and got into position. You lifted yourself shakily and grunted out, “One.”

“That’s it.” He stepped around you. “Two. Three.” He counted for you and swung a foot over you and stood above you. “Four.” He bent and grabbed your waist. “Don’t bend your knees. Five. Six.” He guided you. “Keep your form. Seven. Eight…”

Your arms thrummed and you dropped to your chest entirely at fourteen. You were out of breath already and embarrassed. He came around you and knelt in front of you.

“Only six more.”

“Steve,” You panted. “Stop.” You pushed yourself up and sat on your knees. 

“You’re just gonna give up?” He asked.

“Please,” You got up and wavered on your feet. “I… I can’t.”

You turned away from him and started walking. You dusted off your hands and regained your breath. He followed only as you broke into a jog. He caught up easily.

“You only get better by doing it,” He said.

You were silent. Humiliated. You had felt so good, so ahead of the game and he had pulled you right back. Reminded you of your age, of your weakness. And you had let him.

“How old are you? One hundred and what?” You gasped. “I don’t see any grey. Nothing. I’d killed to look like you ten years ago, let alone today. Don’t act like you know. You don’t. Another ten years and you still won’t feel like I do.” You sniffed back your anger. “You don’t know how lucky you are or how easy you have it.”

“I was just trying to… help. To push you.” He said. “To show you what you’re capable of.”

“All you’ve shown me is what I can’t do,” You sneered. “As if I didn’t already know.”

You continued on in silence. He languished in the anger radiating off of you as you dwelled in humiliation. One step forward, two steps back.

📱

Steve apologized again before you parted. Once more over a text. And again the next morning. You just wanted to forget it and you said as much.

Your run was quieter that day. You had work on your mind. You could tell Steve felt bad. You did too. You were taking your insecurities out on him. He hadn’t done it with bad intent but it still felt like it. It still felt entirely degrading to stand beside him in stark contrast to vitality. He was a beacon and you were a burnt wick.

You left him with as few words as the day before and returned home to shower before you caught the train. The same counter, the same co-workers, the same ticking clock staring back at you, the same disgruntled New Yorkers.

As you clocked out for your lunch, Deanna stopped you. Her usual starbucks monstrosity in hand.

“You’ve got a visitor.” She said. “Front desk.”

You sputtered out your confused curiosity and grabbed your lunch from the break room fridge. The last time someone came to see you, it had been your mother. She wanted your thoughts on your nephew’s birthday party. She had quickly grown frustrated with your suggestions and subsequent indifference to her obstinacy.

But it wasn’t your mother. Steve stood by the round desk where applicants were dolled out forms and their papers were reviewed before the moved onto you. You approached and your grasp tightened on your lunch bag.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“Again?” You peered over at the girl at the circular desk. You waved Steve away from her and led him out to the shared lobby. “I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m mad at myself. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you. You obviously weren’t comfortable with that and I should’ve known better.” He said. “Can I make it up to you?”

“You don’t need to.” You replied.

“Well, maybe you don’t think I do but I think so,” He said. “There’s a pizzeria by my place. I thought a slice would be good for a cheat day.”

“It’s Monday,” You said.

“And? One slice.” He caught your eye. “Please.”

“One slice.” You checked your watch. “And the last twenty minutes of my break.”

“It’s all yours, sorry,” He raised his hands. “I’ll meet you after work. Here.”

“Fine,” You nodded. “See ya then.”

“With bells on.” He smiled but made no move to leave.

You turned away first and felt him watching you as you passed back through the door. You glanced back as you neared the desk. He was still there, staring at you. You quickly continued past the front desk and back through the waiting room. Your cynicism was getting the best of you.

📱

As promised, Steve was waiting for you. You’d almost forgot as he spooked you in the lobby. You let him hail a cab and were thankful for the leather seat. You were exhausted and you weren’t halfway through the week.

The pizza place was small but smelled delicious. You ordered a slice with veggies and Steve got triple meat. You sat at a round table by the window and opened the bottle of water.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“Same old,” You swallowed your first bite. “Not very exciting work. Nothing compared to fighting bad guys.”

“You don’t like it?” He prodded.

“It’s work. It’s definitely not my dream. Not that I really ever had one.” You took another bite to shut yourself up.

“You never tried anything else?”

“Well, I worked retail before. And I was a waitress.” You took a drink of water. “Art degrees might as well be painted over. Ironically.”

“You have an art degree?”

“Buried somewhere.” You said.

“Oh yeah? You paint?” He leaned on the table.

“Sometimes… not much,” You confessed. “Doodles mostly.”

“But… you could sell your art.”

“For pennies,” You countered.

“You never know? And it could be a second hobby. Something you love.”

“Well, with art, you have to have something to say. There’s a point in your life when your voice becomes futile and then you just are too tired to talk above the crowd.” You shrugged. “Anything I have to say has been said before.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What do you care if I paint?” You challenged.

“Well, I think you should do what makes you happy. Not just what you should do or have to do.” He said.

“So you save the world because it’s what makes you happy?”

“Well, in a way, but I do other things. I draw, no degree in that but I do it. I run, not so fun to you but it clears my head. I build things.” He bent his crust and dropped it. “And I do new things that I end up hating and sometimes I end up loving. But if I didn’t try, I wouldn’t know.”

You swallowed and wiped your mouth.

“Maybe that’s why your Captain America and I’m not.” You said as you crumpled your napkin up. “You have a serum that can turn art into money?”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #series #never too late #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Four

Banner made by @thebannershop​

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)

A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des

Updated: 8/9/2020

But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance. 

Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now. 

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back. 

The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway. 

“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.

Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.

Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”

Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”

Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.

Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop. 

“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.

“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still. 

You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.

Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.

When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…

“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned. 

Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice. 

You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”

“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused. 

Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.

You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?

As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in. 

To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier. 

“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.

Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.” 

You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.

“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure. 

The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you. 

You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”

Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.

“Who the fuck is Pearl?” 

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone. 

“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?

The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.

Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.

The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you. 

Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.

Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends. 

Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”

Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.

“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends. 

Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it. 

Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.

“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.

Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate. 

“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”

“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”

Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?” 

Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”

You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full. 

Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”

Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.

For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?

You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies. 

You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment. 

“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away. 

Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.” 

After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building. 

Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.

Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again. 

You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.

“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.

 He needed to cool off, quickly. 

You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word. 

After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.

Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way. 

The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far  wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much. 

You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past. 

As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.

A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs. 

Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features. 

You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.

Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.

As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”

Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.

“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”

“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.

“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. 

Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”

Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”

“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.

With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response. 

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness. 

“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.” 

“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”

From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.

Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.

“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”

In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly. 

Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room. 

After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday. 

You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees. 

You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.

Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing. 

While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good. 

Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly. 

Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.  

The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.

The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection. 

As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea. 

To be continued….

A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love 

xx Des

taglist:  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ 

copyright 2020 aliendes

#bts x reader #bts x rem reader #ot7 x reader #ot7 #bts ot7 #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #soft jungkook #shy jungkook #it got a little long #sorry #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #tsundere yoongi #cypherwritersnet

[spookyc]

So, unfortunately I have to inform yall that as a Maki kin I am contractually obligated to hate kokichi, sorry guys <3

So yeah, I don't like kokichi, I was gonna make an entire post dissecting why exactly I don't like him but to be honest I just don't have the energy anymore. I've moved on to a new hyperfixation, and havent had a thought about dr since the announcement of decadence and I've thought even less about trying to make an absurdly long post about a character I don't like from a franchise I love but have moved on from. As yall have probably guessed by my recent reblogs my new fixation is amphibia and I've wanted to rebrand myself so I could talk about it for forever but I've had this kokichi post bogging me down and preventing me from doing that so I'm just gonna get this out of my system. I will say that I'm not gonna be solely an amphibia blog but rather that I'm changing my entire blog to just be about whatever thing I'm currently interested in so i won't have to box myself into one interest. I had a lot of fun with dr and will love this series for a long time and I'm so flattered and glad you guys decided to follow me for my infodumps and shitposts and if you want to stick around I'd love to have you! If not, it was nice having you around and hell when decadence comes out ill likely make posts about that so you stick could around until then. But yeah! For now I'm going to be a funny frog show blog and I have many thoughts, stay tuned for those.

#danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #danganronpa v3 #maki haruwaka #kokichi oma #amphibia #amphibia my beloved

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟖)

previous part

note: hey y’all it has been a hot minuteee! maybe ab 2 weeks i wanna say? but i’m back wittt a lovely new chapter i hope y’all love it 🤧

i thinkkk i know how to fix the tags now, but if there’s any difficulties i might make a separate post to reassure that everything is just peachy. anyway i hope y’all love this chapter and i hope everyone gets tagged properly!!! adding tags in reblogs :)

playlist

warnings: smut, the cursed d word (daddy!)

word count: 9.7k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

      All while Steve was spilling out his heart to you, for some reason you weren't expecting that to be the result of what he was saying. He was talking so much, making you a little nervous, and you weren't paying much attention to what he was really getting down to saying because of your nerves. But you realized it was so painstakingly obvious what he was getting down to, and because of that realization you couldn't help but let out a huff of a girlish, dumbfounded titter. You weren't able to wipe the smile off of your face after that, questioning silently if this was really happening.

     Just like Steve, you knew the potential your friendship had to be something more, but you had never expected anything to actually come of it. You figured you would both stay floating in the awareness, only ever drawing attention to it through flirty remarks and cute selfies. As much as you had been through with Steve, you felt that he had made it clear that he was taking everything very slow and still being careful when it came to you.

     You had felt that he was loosening up with you and becoming more comfortable, but you definitely didn't think that this was even on his mind. He was good at hiding his feelings, this came as a bit of a shock to you, even though the attraction you had for each other made sense and wasn't nonexistent.

     And you definitely weren't thinking of it nearly as much as Steve was, because you weren't expecting anything from him. You were staying grounded and realistic when it came to this outlandish situation. And when it came to your own mindset, you weren't really looking for anything right now. You were just enjoying your life and the feeling of being alone. Not being bothered to look for relationships or being in anything serious felt essential for your growth and understanding of the world.

You were single and yet unavailable, a choice you made for yourself. But when it came to Steve, you were willing to listen. You didn't know how far you would go, but you knew you'd be crazy not to at least listen to him. You were a mixture of shocked, nerve wracked, and anticipatory.

      Now back to earth. Steve was looking at your face, a smile glued to your lips, your eyes widened in surprise and amusement like he'd just popped the question. One side of his lip quirked up into a smile, hope glinting in his sweet blue eyes as he waited for your verbal response. You found it cute, the way he tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, but those ocean eyes gave it all away. And even more was beginning to shock you, the bud of a little crush that had been planted in the pit of your stomach beginning to sprout and grow upwards, because you were realizing you could see him in that way too.

     You were surprised to see that you were finding him cute instead of strong and buff at the moment, that he was pouring his feelings out to you, instead of the other way around. In this moment, he was the vulnerable one. You had been vulnerable for him before, but it wouldn't end up the same way it had.

That was why you finally spoke and said,

     "Steve... I think I like you too."

Steve, although he had been confident in your reaction and confident in himself in this moment, let out a relieved chuckle. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, clearing the skies which were so full, erratic with colors that he didn't understand. But as he told you how he felt, he knew that he was making the right decision.

    All his life had been full of confusion, this feeling of dissonance, the knowledge that he didn't truly fit in, and this trickled into his understanding of relationships. He had a certain capacity when it came to connecting with people on a level that was more than platonic. When it came to you, the platonic connection you had was undeniable, you shared a connection that was non-romantic as well as romantic. Why not explore beyond the platonic?

You laughed gently, covering your mouth with your hand, your brows furrowed up, less because you were confused and more because you were so bemused by the whole situation. It was real, but it seemed so far-fetched to assume that something like this could happen to you. It was so casual, a man expressing his feelings for a woman. But he wasn't just any man, and you weren't just any woman- and these feelings weren't for the light at heart.

    "This is... weird," you blurted out, for lack of a better word. You felt a little ditzy, responding this way, but you hadn't been expecting this, it came so suddenly that you hadn't even processed all your emotions yet. For now, you could only afford to be shocked and excited. You weren't fully thinking it out, but that didn't seem like it would be a problem. Once again, Steve had caught you off guard, but this time in the best of ways. "Did you draft this out? I feel like you practiced this."

Steve practically blushed, and it felt good to know you had that effect on him. He peeked through squinted eyes while he replied, like he was shy to reveal the answer,

    "A little bit."

    "Oh my god," you laughed, shaking your head.

For some reason, the natural light in your apartment seemed so much brighter now, filling you up and awakening your senses. You felt full with it, light and a feeling of certainty, that as strange as things were, this was how it was supposed to be. Sometimes you felt like the universe was laughing at you. Now you felt like the universe was laughing with you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you weren't expecting this and that you didn't think anything legitimate would come of this. It all circled back to the fact that you were set just being by yourself, with no lover and no one to expect anything of, no one who would expect anything from you either. So to hear Steve saying something like this, while it was exciting, was also something you weren't prepared for. You enjoyed being alone in your post healing space, and you weren't sure how much you'd be able to handle from here on out. You didn't know how ready you were.

But you were staying calm, not letting that bog you down. The confession itself felt monumental. Your excitement and giddiness washed out the slightly halting feeling of omniscience regarding yourself, your relationship habits and where you were in your life.

    "Uhm," you chuckled, breathing a puff of air out from your nose. You subconsciously played with your hair as a way to cope with your nerves. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting this at all, I really don't even know what to say." You face palmed, chuckling at yourself. "I'm sorry, I'm usually less... this."

By this, you meant scrambled up and unable to communicate efficiently. You felt like you should have more words than what you were giving, but Steve had truly caught you off guard. You were trying not to get too giddy, trying to retain some sense of logic like you always did. This was one of those rare blissful moments where you forgot yourself in the presence of another.

    "Think you've said all you needed to say. It would've been a bit awkward if you had said anything else."

Your mind flashed back to the dreaded session with Steve where he'd left so abruptly, and you barked out a laugh.  

     "You're telling me." As you settled more into the realization - not that it was a situation you could get used to very quickly (you had just gotten accustomed to Steve's Avenger status, and now this) - you realized there was something you wanted to know. "So... what prompted you to tell me this?"

You noticed the way Steve started blushing when you asked him the question. You were simply curious, and now that some of your awareness was returning, it was something you felt might help you understand the situation more. You wanted to make sure you were interpreting everything correctly, that you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. You felt secure enough with Steve, but it was in your nature to want to know everything, to grasp around for a true understanding. You wanted to know what you were dealing with, especially because it was something you weren't even expecting.

Steve took in a deep breath in order to absorb everything that he wanted to say.

     "I think I knew for a while that there was this potential for more. I knew there was something there, that I was having those thoughts. But I never really fully gave in to those thoughts. I was just sort of letting them float there, you know. Because I didn't think it was serious, because it wasn't hurting me. But I think I sort of realized that it doesn't necessarily have to hurt in order to be something that should be addressed. I realized that the way I feel for you wasn't just something I should keep to myself, that I needed to tell you. I was thinking about you so much every day, and I... liked it. It didn't scare me."

     Your chest began to feel warm and full as Steve explained himself, and you couldn't help the heat that rushed to your cheeks. To hear him actually confessing his feelings to you, telling you why he had to tell you, was something so unexpected, something that made you feel so full. It had been a while since you'd been romantically involved with anyone, and that was specifically because of the toxic relationships you had been in before. You didn't involve yourself with just any person, not when it came to serious feelings. 

     It was why with Steve you weren't head over heels, among plenty of other reasons that you had already addressed. And while you didn't necessarily give in to the same feelings that Steve gave into, it didn't mean that you were going to push him away. You had been so focused on yourself. But in this moment? You could see yourself with Steve Rogers.

The corner of your lip twitched upward in a jolly smile,

      "Steve, I can't tell you what it means to hear this from you. I mean, it's definitely something I wasn't expecting, and I can say I was thinking about the way I feel for you too. I wasn't giving in either, because I'm just not in that mindset right now, and I thought it would be better to keep my head, and not to expect anything. But I have feelings for you, too. And I'd love to explore what that means with you," you admitted, a small smile on your face as you spoke your truth.

     Steve nodded. All this time he'd been talking to you, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not that his feelings were weighing him down in a bad way, but he had to fulfill this urge to tell you, especially after what he'd done. And he felt that what he had done was necessary to confess, no matter how embarrassing it might feel to admit. He didn't want you to be in the dark about the things he had done to himself as a result of you.

Even with all you'd been through, all the explicit things you had shared with each other, he felt embarrassed to say this aloud. He felt like any way he tried to construe it would sound weird, so in his head he was telling himself to just say it outright, but his mouth was far quicker than his brain. He stuttered as he tried and failed to explain himself,

     "Well, there- there was something specific that happened. It- well, it was a weirddd, it was a moment of... I-I can't really pinpoint-"

You raised your brows playfully, very amused by his stuttering speech, and you nodded as if he were making sense.

      "Yes, I understand," you teased him, and he laughed, shaking his head.

      "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "It's just, this feels so odd of me to say. But you sent a picture of yourself on Snapchat, I don't even think you were thinking of it, honestly. But it made me think. I um..."

You smirked as you realized the point that he was getting to. He didn't even have to say it explicitly. With all your experience as a cam girl, you knew what he was implying. Your voice became saccharine sweet, and your head assumed a teasing tilt as you cooed at him,

     "Stevie, did you get off to my picture?"

     Judging by the way he went red yet again and nodded with an embarrassed smile on his face, you were right. You couldn't help but laugh, not to spite him, but because it was almost surprising to you. You saw Steve as pretty disciplined, and he had made a point of establishing that he wanted to communicate with you as simply friends. That was why he didn't add you on your more explicit private snapchat nor did he watch your cam shows for the past few weeks. You found it surprisingly cute that a simple selfie could send him over the edge - then again, it made sense that this would be something that he'd want to tell you, and that it would relate to admitting his feelings for you.

     Your sugary sweet, teasing voice brought him back to his days of watching you on your cam shows, how you would coo at him and help him get off. The reminder only made him more bashful. You couldn't help but go on, smiling in satisfaction. You couldn't lie - it made you feel a bit cocky that you could get him to that point. Sure, men did a lot of things because of you, but those were men online who you didn't care for as much as you cared for Stevie. You figured he was embarrassed because he thought it was creepy, but you honestly didn't mind. Men had done worse. And besides, it was Steve after all. You had a history.

     "Steve! That's so romantic!" you chirped, watching as he seemed to sink shyly into his seat. It was like you were there with him, the way you could feel his awkward energy through your screen. "Which one was it?"

     "The one you sent on the way to the beach," Steve murmured, peeking out from the hand he had over his eyes.

You hummed,

     "Hmm, I don't remember that. Honestly, though, Steve, I think that's really cute. And really hot. Don't be embarrassed."

Steve chuckled, shrugging,

     "I dunno, I wasn't expecting it. It was what made me feel like I should tell you, because I wasn't just thinking about your picture. I was thinking about you. You know? It was more like... it wasn't just sexual. And I realized afterwards that it brought me to that point because I was so frustrated because I wasn't letting myself give in to the feelings I had for you. And... it was a really nice picture."

You giggled, but past your amusement, you were glad he was telling you these things, no matter how much it might have embarrassed him.

     "Steve..." was all you could say, a smile lingering on your face. "You're real sweet."

He scratched the nape of his neck and looked down. For everything you'd been through, you still made him nervous, in the best way possible. And now that the mutual feelings were out there, he could relish each moment just the way it was meant to be.

     "I'm glad you feel the same way. It's weird, I was trying to figure out if I was just too excited because this is so new to me. But now I know it's not."

     "Same," you nodded. "I mean, I haven't really been attached to one person in a really long time. I was off that. But if there's going to be one person, I want it to be you."

Steve swallowed hard. There was no doubt these feelings were real. And hearing this from you just confirmed that.

     "Me too. Just you."

You smiled for a moment, but you couldn't help your true demeanor, the part of you that needed logic and assortment. This was lovely, but you felt like there just had to be more. Although you thought, how much more could there be? You were miles away, in such different situations in your lives. You didn't want to just go on the same way you had been, not after he told you this. There had to be something more after this, even if neither of you knew what it would be. So you asked,

     "So... what next?"

Steve couldn't say he didn't expect this question from you. He knew you'd want to know where you'd go from this point. And he didn't want to leave you blindsided the way he had when he revealed himself. He wanted to have a plan. He was the grown person in the relationship, he was supposed to have an idea of what was next. But he hadn't fully thought that out yet.

    There was only one thing he thought of that could be solid, but he wasn't sure how that would work. And he wasn't sure if he felt secure enough in himself to let it happen. He had mixed feelings about it. So he didn't bring it up just yet. Despite how stupid he felt shrugging, he did so anyway, and replied,

     "Honestly, I'm not sure. There's not much that we can do, is there?"

You squinted, doubtful of his response. Just like him, you had been thinking of the options, and only one thing seemed solid to you. One thing to do after you realized you both had feelings for each other, to sort of seal the deal, to close the gap. And by the curious look on your face, Steve had no doubts that you were thinking the same thing as him.

     "Isn't there?" you inquired with a suggestive cock of your head.

For all his mixed feelings, Steve felt an overwhelming wave of positivity rush over him when he saw that you were on the same page. You were sharp, there was no doubt about that. He didn't have to question if you were suggesting the same thing he was thinking about. It was bemusing to him, the way that you were quick to clock.

     "You wanna meet me," Steve stated, as if it were a simple fact - and honestly, it was.

     You both had clicked without having to communicate. And neither of you thought it was far fetched. It made sense. It felt pointless to have this confession without there being some way to seal these feelings in in person. That had to be what was up next. You already talked online, texted each other. Doing anything else in order to define these feelings would feel trivial.

     And Steve couldn't deny that lately he had been feeling like he wanted to meet you in person. Before, it was hardly even a thought. But once he realized how he felt for you, it was something that he was fantasizing about just a bit. But it was merely a fantasy of his, not something he was gearing up to actualize.

You nodded slowly, though your heart was pounding at the mere thought of actually breaking the distance. Knowing him, talking to him was so surreal to begin with. You didn't ever expect things to get to this point, or to be talking about meeting him. Not in this circumstance, not at all.

     "If that's something that you are... okay with. I'm not rushing anything."

And it was true, you weren't just making excuses. You weren't rushing anything. You just figured it was the only logical thing to do. After all, you had your own life. It wasn't life or death if you met him, but it just made sense. You'd have to sort things out, as you were sure he'd have to. You weren't aiming too high. You figured this was something that the two of you could possibly achieve in the future, just as a "next step." 

      You also wanted to make sure Steve was serious about this, that you wouldn't just be left hanging by a thread, not after you had had this talk together. Not after you were preparing to commit yourself to someone, something that wasn't even in your mind beforehand.

      And even though Steve had mixed feelings for all the right reasons, he wanted to respect what you wanted. He knew you, and he knew you weren't just dying to meet him, that it wasn't something that would just drive you crazy. You were level headed enough, you had enough going for yourself. Still, if you were on the same page, he wanted to actualize your wishes. And he agreed that it was the logical thing to do - there was just so much that would go into making this actually work. Both you and Steve knew you couldn't just jump into it, but that it had to at least be a possibility.

     So he didn't let this scare him, didn't let these mixed feelings send him overboard like he might have before. He was long past that. He just took everything in calmly, because it was what he owed you. Direction, logic, and peace. Hell, it was what he owed himself.

    He nodded,

    "You're not rushing anything. I understand, it makes sense."

     You nodded, glad you and Steve were on the same page. You didn't intend on letting your guard down completely- just because you were comfortable with Steve didn't mean that you were just going to act head over heels for him and lose all sense of reality. You were still YN, a sensible, strong woman who had boundaries and standards for those who pursued you romantically. Steve was special, but he wasn't an exception. You needed a plan. Needed security.

     And Steve definitely expected that from you, it was why he knew that he needed to have a plan. He sometimes felt like you were too good for him- that he didn't have a clue when it came to these things sometimes, and that he'd do something foolish and lose you. He knew he had to get a clue, and quick. All he cared about was treating you right, especially considering the age difference - you were a grown woman, but he was even older. He had a certain responsibility. It didn't mean he had to be the leader in the relationship, whatever it came to be, because you showed enough leader qualities yourself. But it meant that he couldn't leave things open ended all the time, that he had to show you he was serious.

     When it came to meeting you in person, there were so many things giving Steve mixed feelings. It would be no greater delight than to see you in person. He already enjoyed you so much over the screen. He had no worries that the connection you had over the internet wouldn't translate in real life, as long as he didn't overthink it. It was more a question of time, of his own leadership role in his team.

    Would it get in the way of his job if he was with a woman he had never seen in real life? Would that interfere with his team dynamic in some way? And how could he do so in a way that would keep you safe, from media, from threats, from anything that would get in the way of you and him. There were just so many things that could go wrong, and all for one delicious prize: seeing you face to face without a screen cutting through.

      So, like you, he wasn't jumping into it. But it was on your mind, so he knew he would have to consider it seriously. If this was what the next step would be, he couldn't fuck around too long. He had no intention of stringing you along, of putting this idea out there and then leaving you unsatisfied when he couldn't commit to that next step. So in his mind, there was a distant knowledge that he would have to commit, that this would have to happen at some point. But he didn't want to think about it too much just yet. He wanted to enjoy this moment.

     Your voice interrupted his thoughts,

     "Right. It makes sense. I mean, considering your... life, for lack of a better word, and my life as well, I don't suppose it's something that can just be done. But I'd like to meet you, Steve. Now that I know this, I think it's the only way to be sure that this can be true. To be sure that this is something feasible. And, past all the deep stuff... it sure would be nice to meet Captain America."

      Your smile was so genuine and warm, it almost brought tears to Steve's eyes. He knew he had made no mistake, looking at you. Your glow was so radiant it seemed to touch Steve through the screen, like a friendly sprite fluttering around him, with some iridescent aura. He liked you so much, it made his head swim in a way he just hadn't felt before.

     "Yeah. And I'm sure you've got people lining up to meet the famous Moonrose," Steve smirked playfully, and you laughed, shaking your head.

      "He has a sense of humor. How cute."

Steve wanted to stay on the phone with you for so much longer, talk to you and lose himself in your words and his own thoughts, but he had responsibilities to tend to. He sighed, his hand pressing up against his cheek,

     "Would you kill me if I said I had to go?"

     "Consider yourself a dead man, Steve Rogers," you pouted playfully, and the corner of his lip twitched up in amusement.

     "I wish I could stay longer, I really do. But I'm glad we had this talk, I think we're both on the same page, here."

      You felt calm, secure in this moment. You bit down on your lip and nodded,

     "Yeah, me too. See you, Steve."

     "See you."

✺ ✺ ✺

    Ever since that day, Steve had been in an extraordinarily good mood. Even while he had specifics to think about, as in how exactly he'd make meeting you work, he wasn't bogged down by those thoughts. He knew it would take some time, some mindfulness. He couldn't just bring you here carelessly.

    So, it was a sort of strange buzz that he was in - he was simultaneously giddy and serious, plotting and planning things out, and leaving space in his mind for you. And when he thought of you, just you, any stress threatening to build up just dissipated.

     "You're in a good mood," Bucky commented in passing, taking notice of the small smile that seemed to be constantly engraved on Steve's face these days.

Once again, everyone took notice of Steve's mood - he'd been happy recently, but now it was almost odd. They were beginning to think there was something they were missing. Tony had been the first to really pry and ask if Steve was thinking about a girl. He'd assumed that Steve wanted to talk to someone special when he asked him about the private numbers, and that was entirely true. But Steve didn't let on, not quite yet.

     “Am I?" Steve quipped back, a strange response to Bucky's comment.

    Bucky raised his eyebrow, squinting inquisitively at Steve.

    "Seriously, what's been going on? You hopped up on a little extra serum?"

Steve shook his head slowly with a laugh,

   "Can't a guy just be happy that it's springtime? It's finally nice out. Harsh winter."

    "I've never known you to be a giddy person," Bucky pressed, and Steve just shrugged.

    "Seasons change, people change too," Steve started to walk much faster than Bucky. "Gotta go, Buck. Got some paperwork to take care of."

     Steve practically left Bucky in the dust. He stood there, trying to put the pieces together. He was beginning to think he had an idea of what was going on, but, no. He'd be crazy to think that. It wasn't something Steve would get himself into. But if he was right, then damn it, he wanted to know. Like everyone else, he wouldn't pry too much. But he was beginning to think that they should all be a bit more invested in what was going on. Was he happy his friend was happy? Of course. Was it still a bit strange? Hell yeah.

    And even though he had settled things with you, Steve still had no intentions of putting his business out there. It was his own thing, and for good reason.

✺ ✺ ✺

    Your last day of classes came quicker than you had been expecting. A week flew by so quickly, and even in that week you still hadn't fully processed that day you talked to Steve, the things that he had to say to you. From this point on, you would have so much free time on your hands, maybe you would use it to settle in to your new reality. Just a week ago, Steve Rogers had told you he had feelings for you. He had told you that there was a possibility that you could meet each other. What was your life, honestly?

     If anything, right now it was just a swarm of good. You almost expected something bad to happen to snap you out of this blissed out, full mood that you were in. Everything felt perfect right now. Your brand was swinging into action, you were about to graduate, your cam business was going well as usual. And on top of that, you were in the beginnings of a new relationship. Neither of you were sure what it would actually become, but you hardly even wanted to think about that. You were just enjoying the present, though you knew the future would be so unpredictable and so full of new things.

     To celebrate the end of your classes, and more importantly, the end of senior year, you were having a few friends over at your apartment. One plus of having your own place was that you didn't have to move out of dorms, which was a process most of your friends were going through prior to graduation. And being able to have friends over in a place that you could call your own was so special to you.

       "We're really fucking done!" Aaliyah exclaimed, reaching over the counter to pour herself another drink, then shaking her head and deciding it was best to drink from the bottle.

      "I'll drink to that," Cameron agreed, and clinked her glass to Aaliyah's entire bottle.

       "YN, get off your phone. We gotta celebrate!" Luke nudged you harshly, and you chuckled, rubbing your arm in the spot where he'd impacted you.

     As present as you liked to be when you were with your friends, you couldn't help but be on your phone in this moment. You and Steve texted casually beforehand, but ever since that Facetime call last week, you communicated much more frequently. You anticipated texts and snapchats from him, even the occasional call. Often times you just wanted to hear from each other, wanted to update each other on the smallest of things.

     It wasn't obnoxious or overbearing, it felt just right for the situation that you were in with each other. You wanted to feel closer, or at least the illusion of feeling closer. You were trying to talk to each other the way that people with feelings for each other would. But it didn't feel forced. Your banter came naturally, conversation flowed easily, just as it had before. But now, there was an even brighter spark in each and every text message, every silly Snapchat selfie you sent each other.

    Right now, you were texting Steve about the gathering, sliding in sneaky flirts every now and then, like "wish you were here!" You knew how to get to Steve- even the littlest things did him in.

      "Okay, okay, I'm here! Just, lemme make this call real quick. Really, really quick. Promise," you pleaded with your friends, who were jeering at you playfully as you slinked away quickly.

     You were having fun already, but there was something on your mind, something you hadn't done in a while that you wanted to fulfill. Now that you and Steve had established your feelings for each other, it was only appropriate, right?

You texted Steve, telling him to have his laptop ready, because you wanted to Facetime him.

     You had slinked away to your room, and locked the door behind you, setting up your mirror in front of you and sitting criss cross on the floor. You pulled up Steve's name on your laptop, and Facetimed him. You figured he'd be available to video chat, considering you had just been texting quite voraciously. To your pleasure, he picked up, and you were looking at him on the screen again, a feeling that filled you both up each time. 

      Texting was nice, but actually seeing each other on the screen live felt so much more personal. You felt a surge of pride in you, that you had this ability to just call him up like this, to be able to see him like this. You liked knowing you were the only one that could bring this out of him. And you were about to bring a lot more out of him right now.

     "Hey, how's the party?" Steve asked when he picked up, a grin on his features.

     "Compared to talking to you? Ahh, I can't be that mean to my friends," you joked, and it was really only a joke. But it got the reaction you were hoping for- he blushed and started smiling profusely.

      "You're too sweet," he leaned in. "Why'd you wanna call on my laptop instead of my phone, though?"

      You shrugged, not giving anything away just yet,

       "Just wanna see you better. And I have something for you. It'll be easier to multitask."

Steve nodded,

      "I see you've abandoned your friends."

      "Ding ding ding. Just for a minute though. Or an hour. However long it takes you," you shrugged nonchalantly, as if you were saying anything.

     But Steve felt his senses kicking in. You were alone, obviously because you couldn't just talk to him around your friends, but it was more than that. His stomach dropped from nerves, in the best way possible, but also because this was unexpected.

      "However... long it takes me?" he practically gulped, and watched as you pushed back the laptop and started to pull down the sleeves of your blouse just enough to show the pink bra straps.

       "I missed this, Stevie," you pouted, leaning in very intentionally, so that the curves of your boobs would show from over your blouse.

       Steve's jaw ticked as he watched. He was in his room, and it wasn't as late in New York as it was in California. But his door was locked anyway, and time wasn't an issue when it came to you.

     "We talk a lot," Steve blurted awkwardly in response, immediately feeling stupid.

He didn't mean to be so tongue tied, but it had just been a long time since he had interacted with you like this. Sure, he had his moment with the picture of you, but it wasn't the same as being onscreen with you while you did all the things you did to drive him crazy, right in front of his eyes. He had chosen not to view your cam shows or anything that would get in the way of your budding friendship. Now, you were giving it to him. And he wouldn't have resisted before, because he hardly could - but now, it felt much more appropriate, now that your feelings for each other were out there.

     "I know, but not like this. We talk about my day, your missions. Our feelings. Cute shit like that. But I get so bored, Stevie. No one on my cam site can do it like you."

      "Really?" Steve swallowed, licking his lips slowly and taking in every word you said like it was a mixture of milk and honey.

      "Really. You think anyone can make me scream their name the same way you can? And really mean it? You must know I always meant it, Steve," you drawled slightly, continuing to pull down the sleeves of your blouse and your bra straps along with it, so that now your sleeves were down to your chest.

Steve sighed deeply, as if he were trying to contain himself, breathing through his nose. It had been so long, too long, since the two of you had been intimate like this. It was bringing out this feral nature in him that only you could satisfy. And for you, it was exciting to actually have a person to be intimate with just because. Sure, it wasn't the same as physical touch - which, besides Alex, you hadn't had legitimately in far too long - but it was intimate.

    And this time around, it wasn't just for a customer. It was for someone you could genuinely say you had feelings for. And that felt so fulfilling. It was why you were so quick to give it to Steve, because you were craving that excitement, that full feeling. Being with your friends was lovely, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on to escape them for something like this.

     "Do I get to hear you scream my name tonight?" Steve asked, trying to be confident in his responses, but there was a genuine glint of hope in his question.

You laughed, biting down on your lip, and shrugged,

      "If you play your cards right, sure."

      "How do I... play my cards right?" Steve chewed on his bottom lip, anticipatory and a bit anxious.

    "Just do what feels right," you sighed, and took off your blouse completely, the bra falling off in accordance.

Steve's spit caught in his throat at the sight - he'd seen you in every position, but it never got old. Especially since he hadn't seen you like this in so long. He was already palming himself through his sweats, looking hard into the screen of his laptop - he understood now, using a laptop would be much more convenient for this. It was just like his days with you on the site.

      "Can I see?" you asked, a smile growing on your lips as you watched the way his face contorted, the motions his hands made.

He pushed the laptop further down the bed so that you could see all of him, from his growing erection in his black sweats to his reddening face.

    You practically whimpered when you saw it. It was no surprise that you hadn't actually seen him like this, you'd only ever heard his reactions. All those times, you'd been facing a blank screen. You never got to actually see the expressions that he made, never got to see how big he was, never got to see him finish. He'd gotten to see all of that from you, and now it was finally your turn. Regardless of how things were going to go down right now, you wouldn't be able to control yourself.

     Steve watched as you slipped out of your shorts and started to run your fingers along your clit through your underwear, teasing the warm, wet skin that was underneath. His motions matched yours, grazing his cock with his palm through his clothes. He could usually stand teasing himself, but he was harder than he'd ever been, it had been so long. He was still full of so much pent up desire for you.

    He blushed when he realized that you could actually see him too. Sure, you'd heard him before, but that felt different. He hadn't done something like this, ever. Was it risky to show his face as he did something like this? Sure. But did he honestly expect that risk to have consequences? Not anymore. Still, it made him blush because he'd never actually done this before, at least not when you could see him.

    You moaned, choking out your words,

    "You look nervous, Stevie."

    He chuckled, shaking his head,

    "I don't know, I've just... I know we've done this countless times, but you've never been able to see me. Guess I'm feeling a little rusty."

     "You?  Rusty? Never. I think you forget who you are, Steve," you reminded him, and he smirked- of course you would gas him up a bit, how could he forget how cocky you could make him feel sometimes?

    "Force of habit," he shrugged, and you took your bottom lip under your teeth.

    "Steve?" you asked between pleasured sighs.

    "Yeah?"

     "I really wanna see you. Can you do that for me?" you cooed, putting on your best puppy dog eyes - you wanted to see him for real, not just through the outline of his sweats. You knew he was big, you had known that even before he revealed who he was. But now it was like some sudden kink, to want to see just how big your superhero was.

    He knew exactly what you meant, and the pleading in your voice only made him want to show you even more. He was almost eager as he pulled his sweats down, his cock already springing upwards in his boxers, forming a tent. He watched as your two fingers spun slow circles around your clit once you pushed your panties to the side. Seeing your bare flesh again made him grunt, made his cock twitch in his boxers.

    "Please, Stevie," you groaned, wanting to see all of him.

    "I got you, doll, don't worry," he replied — it was cute to see you get all worked up, but he wouldn't hold out on you for too long. He respected the fact that you were even doing this right now — for that, he decided you got whatever you wanted.

You kept whining until he finally pulled down his boxers and his cock sprung loose. It was hard and heavy, it nearly made you drool just to look at it. You knew he was big, but he was big. Bigger than anyone you'd seen or even had. Just the sight of it, veiny, standing in the air, and throbbing for you made you moan uncontrollably. You were unbelievably wet already, and couldn't help but sink two fingers inside of you - they slid in too easily.

     Your fingers felt the warm and gushy flesh inside of you and you sucked in a breath, just watching his cock on the screen. It was something so deliciously overdue, so much overdue that it felt like a sweet release just to see it. You rolled your head back, and Steve gripped the base of his cock, watching your fingers dip in and out of you while you pleasured yourself.

    "Mmh," you mewled, biting your lip. You looked back on the screen, a needy pout plastered all over your glossy lips, a desperate crease in your brows as you focused in on his cock. You groaned gutturally, just looking at him, imagining what it would be like to take him inside of you, inside any part of you. Your voice was whiny, desperate with amazement. "You're so big."

       Steve's chest pounded at the sound of your voice - so needy and raw, like the sight of him was too much for you. He watched the way your fingers rubbed vigorously at your clit, which was wet and slick with your juices. His hand worked tirelessly at himself, jerking up and down his shaft, his fingers toying with the head, glowing with his precum.

    "You like my cock?" he asked in response, just so he could hear the edge in your voice.  

You sighed in pleasure, scooching your hips forward so Steve could see you better,

    "Yes, baby, I want you so bad."

    "You want it?" Steve gave in to his desire to tease you back, which really became stronger when he saw how needy you were for him. You watched his face, which was a mix of derisive and focused, focused on getting you both to orgasm, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth partially open at all times. The groan that came out of Steve was deep and animalistic, reflective of how much he needed this with you after not having it for so long. "Does it turn you on? Begging for my cock?"

       You whimpered - the more dominant side of Steve was coming out, and you hardly had to coax him into it. He was assuming such a daddy role, you couldn't help it when the pet name slipped out of your mouth,

     "God, yes, daddy."

Steve's eyes were blown with lust, his eyelids heavy, but they widened just a bit when he heard what you called him. You hadn't even thought much about it, but Steve was hanging onto it desperately.

       "Daddy? Is that what I am?" he repeated with a low chuckle, slowing his strokes so he could focus on your response.

You wriggled around and mewled out in response, scrunching your eyes shut as you tried to avoid having to answer him.

      "I'm not hearing an answer, doll," Steve pressed, and you clenched around your fingers, an orgasm sure to arrive shortly - his tone was so authoritative and cocky - you shouldn't have let that slip, but then again, you loved it.

      "Fuck!" you shouted, thrusting your fingers deeper inside of you, your knuckles hitting your clit. "Yes, daddy, that's what you are."

    "Hmm, yeah, that's it," Steve breathed out of his nose, relaxing back into his pillow and letting the careless motions of his hand take over. He was so far gone, any tension from the day so far removed that his head felt clear, and a wave of pleasure rushed over him. So much so that he wasn't even really thinking when he next spoke, his eyes shut and his hands closed around his throbbing cock. "Mm, I can't wait to fuck you."

     A sound you didn't expect came out of you then, and you clenched hard around your fingers as you came, gasping for air and rocking your hips against your fingers deliriously, sweat just starting to drip down your forehead. Steve's orgasm came soon after that, like it was chasing after yours. You both took your time to recover, reveling in the moment. It felt like a sense of peace had flooded your room, and it felt the same for Steve. You both knew it had been too long since you got each other off. And everytime it happened, it was explosive. Just now, it had been on a whim, as a result of your own spontaneity - and you were a bit horny as well. Man, were you glad for those last minute decisions of yours.

     You wiped sweat off your forehead, still breathing hard, and pulled up your underwear - which was no help, you were still soaking through them. But you got dressed accordingly and so did Steve, and you stayed on the call until one of you spoke.

    "Your friends are looking for you, I bet," Steve commented, and you smirked, shrugging.

     "Don't worry, they'll be fine," you grinned, licking your lips.

Steve's eyes were still bleared over, but he was looking right at you,

      "Think they heard us?"

Even after all that, your pussy throbbed at his words, at the thought. If only Steve could see.

    "Dunno."

    "I get the feeling you don't care," Steve grinned, eyes sparkling - he too was glad for your spontaneity.

As you sat recovering, rocking gently back and forth with your knees pulled up to your chest, a small smile appeared on your lips as you recalled the words that had triggered you to come. It was mindless to Steve, a subconscious thought of his that had slipped out of his lips in that moment of pure bliss, as casual and thoughtless as asking "how was your day?"

     "You said you can't wait to fuck me," you hummed, tilting your head to the side, a devious but satisfied smile on your lips.

    You liked, no loved, the way it sounded coming from his lips this time around. Before, you had always shared your fantasies aloud, telling the other that you wished you could be there. But that was before - before you even knew him, before you knew each other the way that you knew each other now. There was no depth to the words. But now, it felt like a prompt to put things into motion, like Steve knew that his wish would become a reality, like he really was serious about meeting you. He didn't just wish he could fuck you, he couldn't wait to. That, to you, sounded like there was already a plan set where something like that could be possible. Like Steve had been thinking about it, a thought that dually excited you and made you wet.

     Steve blushed at the reminder - he had hardly recognized that he had let that slip. Again, it was more of a subconscious thought of his, one that hadn't yet come to the surface. Although he had plans to meet you, knew that it had to happen at some point, he hadn't yet thought of the specifics. It just sort of came out of him, something that he didn't realize he'd been thinking about - that he'd one day have the chance to meet you, that he really could fuck you when the time came. He supposed that the excitement of the moment got him thinking that this prominent physical, sexual gap could be closed once you met. It wasn't the only reason he wanted to meet you, but in the moment, it was what was most on his mind. And the only difference in what he said this time around was that it insinuated driving fantasies into reality.

    "I did, huh?" Steve questioned, smirking slightly.

    He knew what you were getting to, and it got you both excited and nervous all at once. You both knew it was going to happen, but once he said that, it felt like things were becoming much realer.

     "Mhm. That true?" you batted your lashes playfully, making him laugh - he missed this feeling, the friendly interactions after getting each other off, how humorous and organic it felt.

    "Yeah, it's true," Steve nodded, settling into the reality himself. He knew what had to be done, and he knew it had to be set in motion quickly. "Guess we better meet sooner than later, huh?"

     "Just so you can fuck me," you said decidedly, making the both of you laugh.

    "It's not as wholesome as I was expecting," Steve cleared his throat. "But really, you and I both know it's not just because of that. And it very well could be, but we both have so much to offer."

     "Mhm, but you really wanna fuck me," you continued, and Steve knew he had to let you bask in this moment, had to let you shine in all your glory.

He laughed at how big headed you were acting, shaking his head,

      "There's that, too."

     "Hey, really though, if it takes time, I understand," you nodded, making it clear once again that you weren't rushing anything.

    "It takes time, but I can make time," Steve replied quickly.

    He wanted you to feel secure, didn't want you to feel like you had to backtrack from what you both wanted. It would take a lot of work from him to make things work out, would take a lot of self reflection, but he knew that for you, he could handle it. Neither of you were rushing things, but you both realized that you couldn't hold off for too long, that you needed each other soon- physically and emotionally. There was only so much you could do through a screen. The more you talked about it, the more the days passed by, the stronger the urge became. You'd both commit to not allowing it to drive you up the wall - but you could only resist so much. You had to see each other, soon.

    You smiled, impressed by Steve's words. He would make time. That was all you ever really wanted to hear.

    "Yeah?"

    "Yeah. It's a lot, but it can be done. We'll have to be careful, because there's so much... stuff that goes into this. And I have to get myself together first, when it comes to my team and how this will all go down in a way that won't impact my work, or your work, for that thought. But I care about you. And... and I know that this is the next step, and we don't have to rush it, but it's better to see you sooner than later," Steve explained, the gears already churning in his mind- lots of work to be done.

     He didn't want to keep you a secret, but he didn't want to mess up the consistency in his relationships with his team and his relationship with his work. That was one thing that he'd have to figure out. And besides, he liked having you all to himself. When the time was right to be open about it, he'd know. That was just one of the elements he'd have to think of when it came to getting you to him.

     "I care about you too," you pouted slightly, and then smiled again. "And I really do want to see you. When it's right, it's right. You know?"

     "Yeah," Steve took his bottom lip under his teeth. "So... when is it right for you?"

You raised your brows - was he asking for your schedule? Was this really going to happen? You knew that was the focus of your conversation, but actually progressing was something so jarring to think of.

     "For me?" you repeated, gawking slightly at the camera.

     "Yeah, like... I don't know. When's a good time for you?" he asked, as if he were scheduling a simple lunch date.

      Your head started to swarm with thoughts, mainly thoughts surrounding your own availability. Once you graduated, you'd have all the time in the world. Sure, you'd have to start working and continue handling your clothing brand, but you would have plenty of free time on your hands. You wanted to settle into the real world without education first, but you figured that you'd be ready for this adventure soon after graduation.

    "Ah, well... I'm- I'm graduating... this week. And, um, after that I'm pretty much free. I'll need like a week or two to decompress, but after that, I guess-"

      "You can see me," Steve completed your sentence for you, because you were having a hard time spitting the words out of your mouth.

     For all your logic and need for stability, you were floored by the idea of actually planning something like this out. For the umpteenth time that week you were asking yourself: "what is my life?" And for Steve, it was jarring too. It was odd for him to think that he would ever be going through with something like this, something that he had resisted so adamantly beforehand. He couldn't say that he couldn't picture himself in this position with you beforehand, because a small part of him could. 

      It seemed so unfeasible and far fetched to him back then, but it was part of the reason why he pushed back. Now, here he was, in this unbelievable position. But it didn't deter him, it just served as a reminder of how much he had grown since he met you, the same way you had grown.

    "Yeah," you chuckled out nervously, a beam breaking out on your face. You huffed, as if you couldn't believe it, but you were so glad it was true. "Yeah... then I can meet you."

A beat of silence passed as you both just looked at each other over the screen, settling into this moment together. It was like there was a bubble that enclosed just you and him. A circumstance so exclusive that it was as if only the two of you could understand it. And the way you were looking at each other now, you couldn't wait to look into each other's eyes for real.

    "Well," Steve chuckled, raising his brows. "I guess I'll have to make arrangements."

    "Yeah, me too," you refrained from snorting out of excitement, and just sat back.

    "You should get back to your friends, before they start suspecting anything."

    "I assure you, they are not worried about me," a loud garble of laughter sounded through your walls, loud enough for Steve to hear. "See?"

     You both laughed, but you took in a breath, nodding,

     "Ah, you're right though. I should go."

    "Got it. Hey, I'll see you. Soon," said Steve, but the farewell felt so much deeper now.

You winked, leaning forward to hang up,

     "See you, Steve."

You hung up, still giddy and buzzing with exhilaration. You still didn't know what to expect, but you kind of knew when to expect it. And it was coming soon. You had to resist from counting down the days. As Steve suggested, you returned to your friends. You had no trouble focusing on them and your celebration for the rest of the night. But the warmth you felt in your cheeks, the wetness between your thighs, and the smile etched on your face all reminded you of what was to come.

#steve rogers #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x yn #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #girls on film #orbitariums #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #smut

[rhube]

20 Questions For Fanfic Writers

20 Questions For Fanfic Writers

I got this from @fenrir-kin​‘s post I saw someone reblog and they said that anyone who wants to do it should consider themselves tagged, so... same.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

23 on my main account; 32 total.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

397,777 on the main account; about 550,000 total.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Stone Fever (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2)

2. The Naked Anders (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

3. A Gentle Touch (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

4. An Uncomfortable Discovery (JustFenHanders - Dragon Age 2 )

5. Self Reflected (Anders/Fenris - Dragon Age 2 )

4. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Sadly, yes. It really sucks.

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

Yes, nearly every time! TBH, it mostly just seems polite - if someone takes the time to say something nice to me, I usually at least want to thank them, and if they stay a bunch of stuff there’s usually something to reply back about. It excites and delights me to have nice comments on my fic and I like to express that and let people know how happy it makes me.

I usually respond to the nasty comments, too, at least to tell them to bog off. Maybe I should just ignore them, but I’ve never been very good at that. Also sometimes they’re wrong and they need to know it.

Sometimes I get thoughtful comments pointing out something the reader thinks or is worried might be problematic. If it’s earnestly meant I try to respond in kind, even though often it’s a case of them being worried I’m not going to address something when I really wish they’d wait to see how the fic turns out before telling me my fic is problematic. But that’s the problem with an episodic format. It can hurt to get those comments too, but I try to be sensitive to the fact that the person is probably feeling anxious themselves.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe Self Love? (Connor-51/Connor-52)

Although virtually all my fics are extremely angsty, they generally have happy endings too. I like my Hurt with some Comfort at the end. This fic doesn’t *really* have an angsty end, but it doesn’t end in a relatioship either.

(My original fiction is another matter. Thinking about it, a major character dies or is dead/undead in four of my published stories, but is it my fault if only the sad/dark stuff sells?)

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hmm, tricky. I think either The Naked Anders (dark in the middle, but the characters not only fall in love, but Fenris is totally won over to Anders’ cause) or A Gentle Touch (much fluffier fic overall, happy ending, but less clear on how a HEA can happen because the wider setting of Kirkwall is cursed and it doesn’t really address how to resolve that).

8. Do you write crossovers?

As a rule, no. I rarely read them, either. HOWEVER, I dearly *wish* I could write a Lucifer/The Good Fight crossover in which Diane Lockhart has to defend Lucifer for something of which he’s complete innocent, and she takes absolutely no shit from him and basically looks askance at the entire LAPD for putting up with his shit.

It would be AMAZING, but I don’t think I know enough about the law to make it work.

9. Do you write smut?

Hahahaha - yes, quite a lot. I once saw someone rec one of my fics and they were like, ‘It’s rated teen for now, but Rhube usually writes explicit, so the rating may rise’ and I was like, yes, that is fair.

I’m  55,000 words into Forgiveness now and I keep having to take breaks to write smutty fics because I CANNOT DEAL with this slow burn nonsense omg I just want the boys to KISS (and then, you know, do the do).

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I sincerely hope not. I can’t even imagine the amount of stress I would feel.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? Or turned into podfic?

Alas, no.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I don’t think I could cope with that.

13. What’s your all-time favorite relationship (doesn’t have to be romantic)?

Anders/Fenris, if the hundreds of thousands of words I have apparently written about them is anything to go by.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I believe in my ability to finish all my fics! But if I had to pic, I must admit I have less idea overall of where Fenris by Fenris is going in the long term. Except towards Fenris/Anders/Leto sexytimes. But the more I wrote the more it was becoming an interesting angsty fic instead of a silly doubles-sex fic - which I should have expected, but I foresee troubles ahead.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I think I’m pretty good at writing in the ways that people actually speak, and paying attention to how characters speak in canon.

And well-structured angst. Like, oh, you think you can see how this is going to a familiar angsty place, but have you considered all THESE ways the characters could get upset too? BECAUSE I HAVE - and I really need someone else to feel these feels!

It has long been my dream to create a Nugget of Purest Angst, and I feel like I’m honing my skills through fanfic.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actions that accompany dialog. She sighed, he nodded, she raised her eyebrows, he ran his hands through his hair, they groaned, she hummed, he paused for a moment (everyone does things for a moment) etc. etc.

Why must my characters move alongside their dialog? Is it not enough that they say the wrong things to each other in ways that reveal their inner torment?

Also, I am lazy about description in fanfic. I know it. But I mostly don’t have the energy these days to slow down for description. Fic comes out however my poor fatigued brain regurgitates it and I rely too much on people knowing what places are like from canon. Sorry.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Uh, why not? I mean, I’m less likely to do it because I suck at second languages, but I don’t see any reason why a person should not. Is this a common issue for people?

18. What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

Strictly speaking? The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. In a fanzine. Proper Old Skool.

19. What are your favorite tropes/scenarios to read or write?

Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Body swaps. Doubles. Mind-control (but we’re resisting it and we’re very upset that it’s happening, but also we had some extensive discussions about consent and we had sex anyway and we liked it). Forced to Fuck/Sex Pollen/Love Potions. Heats (and Oh No! We’re trapped together! What shall we do?). Arseholes to Lovers.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Complete? Probably Stone Fever. The angst is good and somehow this pwp setting got proper feels and character development in it, as well as a lot of sex. To the extent that I’m now rewriting in an original setting and with original characters (follow @rubyjones for news on that, if I ever get well enough to finish that project).

Incomplete? Probably An Uncomfortable Discovery - the start could do with some polishing as I only expected it to be a quick and dirty short fic, but now it’s 79,000 words long and contains some of the best, most angsty stuff I’ve ever written, as well as a kickass, very angsty fight scene.

I have so many feels about that fic and I really regret that I allowed a comment to knock the wind out of my sails so it became hard to get back to it. I WILL finish it one day, though.

#ao3 #fanfic #me #rhube #dragon age 2 #dragon age

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

out of love by alessia cara + calum for that lovely angst

Thanks for your song and patience!

Please consider supporting me on ko-fi. 

I’m debating on whether or not to continue song blurbs. Your support really helps me out, reblog if you enjoy. 

____________________________

Routines

He first notices it in himself. 

It doesn’t set off the alarm suddenly. Ashton’s really the first one to see it. He asks about you, how you are settling into the new job, and when Calum answers with a placid good, Ashton gives him a look. Like how could good be the only word that Calum had when it came to you. But Ashton doesn’t push it, he nods and says that he’s glad you’re happy with your job and in a place more aligned with what you wanted. 

Calum can’t seem to recall when you started the new job. But it couldn’t have been for more than a day or two. He had just taken you out for dinner as a celebration. Calum excuses himself to the bathroom, racking his brain because surely he wasn’t going insane. But when he scrolls through the text messages from you, he sees the dinner was nearly two and a half weeks go. It’s just his memory, with the latest album things have started to blur just a little and he can’t seem to keep anything straight anymore. 

Calum fucks up the routine. 

Not that he meant it maliciously. There’s an order to the day that you’ve gotten accustomed to. You waking first and cook breakfast. Calum sluggishly pulls himself to at least have his morning coffee with you--you go to work. He catches up on emails, takes Duke out for his walk if he manages not to doze off again, goes to the studio. You get back--there’s always a note left in Calum’st mostly uppercase penmanship if Duke needs a walk. You relax, fix dinner. Calum comes homes, reheats his plate if it’s gone late, you two talk, laughing at the dining room table as you sip on tea. 

Calum doesn’t come down for his morning coffee once. You sit, bag at your feet with ten minutes before you have to leave for work. And you sit, and sit, and sit, wringling your thumbs and picking at your nails. The bedroom door never creaks open. 

In the car, your phone rings. Calum’s name and photo on the screen. “I know you haven’t left yet. Get out of the car so I can give you your morning kiss.” His voice is gruff, still thick with sleep. You bite your lip and laugh, heart-expanding at the fact that you didn’t have to leave Calum without your morning kiss. 

You leave the car running, and jump back out. Calum stands, sans shirt but in sweatpants, on the porch. Duke, who you took out earlier, wagging his tail at his feet. Calum’s clearly tired, eyes puffier than usual. The close crop can’t really be fussed about, but as the length slowly grows back you can see it’s flattened from his sleep. He flashes a quick smile and an open embrace. “Morning,” you laugh, kissing him quickly. 

“Morning. You look good by the way.” He gives you another kiss, to make up for him oversleeping. “Have a great day.”

You nod. “You too rockstar.” 

When your car pulls out of the driveway and down the block, Calum steps back into the house. He hums, still tired and collapses onto the couch. There’s not a lot of guilt, mostly just thoughts of sleep. 

Around one that day his phone buzzes. A picture from you of the latest addition in dogs you see on your lunch break. He replies with a couple heart eye emojis, grinning at the stern-looking German shepherd. Cutest bub around, he types. 

Don’t let them hear you say that. Looks like they wouldn’t take too kindly. Love you, babe. 

Love you too. He goes to send the text but his fingers take pause. When’s the last time he called you doll? He used to use it all the time. Calum erases his period and adds a coma before his fingers add more. Love you too, doll. 

Calum really knows something is happening when you take pause at the bedroom door. His duffel bag, unzipped, and half full. Your voice cracks as you speak. “What are you doing?” You don’t want the scene to send you into a panic but you have no clue why Calum would be packing a suitcase, without warning. He always gave you a week’s notice at the very least--sometimes shows and events kind of popped up. 

“The writing retreat?” He could’ve sworn he told you about the four day trip up the coast. Not going out of the state at all, just a few hours out of the way. It was in the works since last week. Why would he not bring it up to you? 

“The what? How long?”

“I--I told you. It’s only four days. Going up the coast just to write for a little bit. Some guys up there want in a couple tracks. I told you this, baby.”

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Yes, I did. I had to have told you.” But he can see the tears welling in your eyes and the way your lower lip has started to wobble. “Please, please God tell me I told you?”

You shake your head. Throat seizing up on you. God, you wanted to feel stupid for thinking he was leaving--nevermind the fact this was his house. But lately, over the last few months, things felt different, off, distant. It wasn’t the end, you told yourself. It couldn’t have been. Calum always made things up, he was imperfect like everyone else. But not telling you about having to go away, it’s the final straw. 

Calum steps over his bag, arms lifting to cradle you. You take a small step back, with a shake of your head. It hurts to swallow, the squeezing in your chest is not helping. “You don’t talk to me anymore.” The admission is choked as it leaves your lips. You haven’t let out a full sob, but you feel it beating at your lungs and ribs. 

“I’m sorry. I just forgot.”

The look Ashton gave Calum months ago comes flooding back. The heaviness to his eyes, the pull of his brow. Ashton wasn’t confused. Calum was the last to realize it. He was the last one to see the thing happening. If this had been a bad dream, Calum would’ve woken with a cold sweat. When his mouth gapes and his eyes pull together, you turn, clutching your sleeves into your fist to wipe your eyes. 

“Wait, please!”

He still loved you. He did. He still loved you. 

But he hadn’t call doll in ages. He didn’t hold your hand in bed anymore. He didn’t drink his morning coffee with you. He hummed when you talked about work. He hadn’t even meant to do this. It’s not even like Calum felt bored--maybe a little bogged down. But not bored. Things were so good.

You can’t even hide in the house before you turn the corner to the spare bedroom, Calum’s gently taking your elbow to slow you down. What was happening? What was he doing wrong? “Talk to me now. Please?”

That sob, finally makes itself known, scratching over your throat. You pull your joint of his grasp but don’t face him. You can feel the heat of him on your back as he stands, inches, maybe even centimeters behind you, but have no physical contact. “You haven’t had breakfast with me in two months.”

“I have--two months?”

You nod. “You haven’t called about being late home. I still fix you dinner though, knowing that you’re not going to show up until whatever wee hour in the morning. You used to buy me flowers just for no reason and even though I seemed to kill each one with just a look, you kept buying them.”

Calum racks his brain. He bought some. It couldn’t have been all that long ago. He bought some for Valentine’s Day and then more a week later. It was only July now. “Fuck,” he whispers at the realization. “Five months?”

You nod. “Five months.”

You might have naively wondered if people stopped loving each other or if it just they forgot how to love the other person. But here, now, looking at the beige walls of this bedroom you thought the former was definitely more likely. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing Calum can say. It’s the only words his mouth can work around and get out. He loved you. He really did. 

“Ashton asked me if everything was okay with us. And I had to tell him the truth. That I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s not you. I need you to know that it wasn’t you at all,” he urges, finally taking your hand and you let him. You even turn, standing toe to toe with him. “I loved you. Through and through I loved you.”

It’s not even a sad revelation. Somehow it feels mundane to hear it. You knew all along that something had happened. You just didn’t want to believe it. But it’s obvious that things had just run out of juice. Your lip wobbles again and you can feel it, hear the tremors as you speak. It’s probably a stupid thing to admit, but it feels right. You unwind your fingers and speak, “I love you.”

Wiping your eyes, you look to the floor. The earth hasn’t shattered. You thought it might. And it’s not a last-ditch effort to save a dying thing. It’s just a statement of truth, just the bone grinding honest truth. Your teeth ache just a little as you continue to speak. “Know that even when I saw the end of the tunnel, and I was staring it down every goddamn day, I actively loved you. I still love you. But I-I can’t keep doing this. Lying to myself.”

Calum nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I-I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It might be too late for that.”

His chest nearly caves. He takes a staggering step back and the tears that were threatening to spill and tell all his secrets fall down his cheek. The ink of his truth now tracking down his cheeks. He had hurt you in probably the worst way possible. Holding onto a routine and pretending to give out love. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“We all do stupid things for love,” you croak your laughter leaves in bursts and occasionally choked off by a sob. “We all do stupid things for love.” 

Like lying to yourself, or turning a blind eye to things. There’s just a moment, you lean into the wall right outside the guest bedroom and Calum leaning into the door of the hall closet. Neither one of you can look at each other. Your arms are wrapped around your stomach, the pain from your chest now spreading down your body. Calum just feels heavy, even numb because he can’t believe he had drug you through that. Waiting day in and day out for him to either snap out of it or maybe even into reality. Waiting for yourself to come to that realization too. 

He opens his mouth, staring up at his ceilings with more tears threatening to fall down his cheek. 

“Don’t say you're sorry again. Please don’t.”

“What can I say? What can I do to make this better?”

“Nothing.” 

-H

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #calum hood angst #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #h writes

[rpd-rookie]

Under Her Extra-Large Umbrella - Chris Redfield x Reader (PART 1)

Summary: Chris Redfield has always been an honourable man but the things he's seen at Spencer Mansion leave him no choice. He must infiltrate Umbrella's French laboratory, whatever it takes, even if it means manipulating you. But how far he is ready to go?

Author’s Note: This fanfic involves a Post RE1 / Pre-Code Veronica version of Chris Redfield since it focuses on his trip to Europe that is mentioned in RE2. You will probably notice that I used the letter Chris wrote to his S.T.A.R.S. friends. It is actually what inspired this fan fiction in the first place. Gotta be honest with you, this fanfic made me shed blood, sweat and tears. I guess I rewrote it twice before coming to a rather satisfying version and I must have tear my hair out quite a few times when I was struggling with grammar. (BTW, tell me if you see some terrible grammatical mistakes so that I can correct them) Anyway, as usual, I hope you will like it. Please don’t forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think of it in the comment section.

Tags: Romance, Fluff, SMUT, Explicit Language, Manipulation and Treachery. Angst is come ;-)  

Also available on AO3

“Better failing with honour than winning by cheating, son”.           Chris could perfectly remember his father telling him those words. It was in 1990. Chris was a seventeen years old teenager finishing his Junior year, and they were driving back home from driving school right after learning he had failed his theory test contrary to that asshole Colin Monroe who had aced it thanks to a crib cheat hidden in his sock.       He could also remember that his father’s wisdom had barely consoled him on that day - despite what he had let him believe - and that it had taken him quite some time to swallow the bitter pill and even more time to admit that his father was indeed right and that he should live by this motto. Months actually. Plus a tombstone with his parents’ names on it.       Chris never regretted listening to his father. He never regretted promising him that he would do his best to become the man he would have wished him to be. That promise had made him the man he was today. A man who would never stray from the right path however tempting treachery could be. Someone loyal, upright and honourable. Someone his parents would be proud of.

And yet here he was, eight years later, a twenty-five years old cop, breaking the promise he had made his father and doing something so deceitful and selfish it would certainly make him roll over in his grave or wish he were still here to give his son a earful.     But today, it was not something as silly as his driving licence that was at stake. It was the justice he owned to his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, those he had lost at Spencer Mansion and those waiting for him in Raccoon City. It was the security of god knows how many people. This time, Chris had a burden on his shoulders that was way too heavy for him to accept a possible failure. And as terrible as it sounded, he was ready to do something bad for the greater good, whatever the cost, whatever his dead father may think of him from beyond the grave.

                      “To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds,

           How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella.            Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation for another six months.                Barry, don’t even think of coming join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me.              Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK.”

Chris put down the pen on his nightstand and took a look at his letter one more time with a proud amused smile. He knew that his friends, contrary to Irons, would get the hidden message behind that lame womanizer persona that was so unlike him. And hopefully, maybe the police chief would tell his friends at Umbrella his S.T.A.R.S. poster boy was nothing to worry about and just currently cruising for pussies in Europe.  

“Writing to your friends again?” Chris looked up to see you standing in the doorway to his bedroom. You looked very tired, exhausted even, judging by the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, your loosened bun and the way you were leaning against the framework. “Yeah, to give them a small update on my vacation.” Chris folded the letter and put it in the drawer of his nightstand; not very keen on letting you read it. “Tough day?” “You have no idea.” You dropped your bag at the entrance of Chris’ room and went to fall down on his bed, your head on his crossed legs. “Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t say much. Professional confidentiality and all. ”         “I didn’t know working for Umbrella was like working for the CIA.” Chris joked, trying to tone down the disgust he was feeling each time he had to pronounce the word Umbrella. You smiled, too tired to laugh and glanced at Chris who was staring at you.            

God, why did you have to be so beautiful and so sweet and yet so not good for him? Why did you have to work for Umbrella? And how did he allow things to be that way between the two of you?

Chris could remember the day he had first seen you, the day he had chosen not be moral and honourable for once in his life.       It was almost a month ago. He had been in Paris for a couple days, trying to find a way to infiltrate Umbrella’s French laboratory, which was even more impenetrable than Zone 51, the lab being a real fortress (with automatic secured doors, CCTVs, guards and a severe ‘no visitor allowed’ policy) only accessible if you were the lucky owner of a white and red badge. And you had happened to be one.       Leaving the lab for lunch break, happy to finally feel the warm sun on your face, it hadn’t been your beautiful [h/c] hair loosely tied back in a high ponytail or your twinkly [e/c] eyes that had caught Chris’ attention (even though yeah he had noticed). No it had been that badge, that stupid badge carelessly hanging from the front pocket of your lab coat. And it had also been that badge that, unfortunately for you, had made him organise a plan to trick you and get his hands on it, that badge that had made you the victim of his very first treachery.  

Your meeting was – unbeknownst to you – the most unnatural meeting ever. Chris had calculated everything. When? Lunch break. Where? The nearby boulangerie where you used to be eating. What to say? “Désolé. Bonjour. Puis-je m’assoir avec vous?” which meant “Sorry. Hi. May I sit with you?” in French of course, because Chris had figured that playing the part of the poor American tourist with a terrible French accent trying to adapt in the city of love would be much more appropriate for the situation.       And it had worked. He had sit at your table, had exchanged a few words with you and had found you surprisingly friendly and adorable for an Umbrella employee.             But of course, as the majority of Chris’ plans, the meeting hadn’t ended up the way he had imagined (meaning him discreetly stealing your badge) simply because of a tiny detail he hadn’t thought of; you had forgotten your badge at the lab, leaving him no choice but to improvise and organise a second meeting that he had dared called a rendez-vous.

And here he was, weeks later, sharing your apartment and occasionally your bed and definitely bogged in a way bigger deceit that the one he had originally planned, one he knew he would not be able to get out easily.     And to answer the question, did Chris manage to get his hands on your badge? Well, yes and it was now safely hidden in his room to be used at the proper moment. If only he could shut his guilt away as well. Things would be much easier.

“What did you do today? Sebastien told me he barely saw you.” Sebastien was your other roommate. A nice redhead guy as well as a curious unstoppable chatterbox. “Oh, nothing interesting. I woke up early to jog at the Bois de Boulogne then I spent the rest of day wandering in the city.” That was half a lie. Yes, he had gone for a run at the Bois de Boulogne but he hadn’t spent the afternoon visiting Paris. No, he had spent his afternoon trying to reach the FBI from a phone booth in order to know if they had some news concerning Irons or the Mansion Incident. Unsuccessfully.           “If you want, we can spend this Saturday together. I’m sure I can show you few places you haven’t seen yet.”           “Aren’t you working this Saturday?” You were always working on Saturdays. “I need a day off to clear my mind a bit.” That didn’t sound like you. You were too much of a workaholic to prefer spending your Saturday playing guide to your American roommate. “Now, consider me worried. What’s up at work?” Chris asked, concerned not only because he knew something terrible could be happening at Umbrella but also because he couldn’t help but caring about you, Umbrella worker or not.         “Those last days have been a bit tough that’s all.” You wouldn’t tell him more. You couldn’t. For so many reasons.     “Well in that case, what do you think about me running you a nice hot bath?” You glanced up at Chris. He had drawn your attention in a very interesting way. “That depends. Will you be with me in that bath?” You asked cheekily.         “Do you want me too?” He smirked and you put your hand on his neck to pull him closer to your face. You pressed your lips softly against his; sighing in this kiss you had been dreaming about all day, as Chris brought you against his broad chest, his strong arms now holding you tight against him. You felt so safe in his embrace and that’s what you needed right now.        

Chris pecked you a couple times before laying one last kiss on your forehead with a tenderness that made you melt in his arms. “I’m gonna go run you that bath, okay?” You nodded. “Join me in ten minutes.”       Needless to say that those ten minutes were the longest you had ever experienced. Probably because they gave you plenty of time to dwell on the things you had experienced today at the lab, the things you had seen, the things you wanted to forget and yet couldn’t.           You got up and grabbed the bag you had left by the door to search for a small notebook that you opened with a desperate sigh. Then, you took the pen on Chris’ nightstand and started scribbling notes and drawings in it. A habit you had taken a few months ago and that somehow helped you from not cracking up.  

You guessed you took more than ten minutes when you heard Chris clear his throat by the door, only wearing a small towel around his wait. Goodness, what a sight.         You quickly closed the notebook as soon as you spotted him and put it back in your bag while he pretended not to notice. “Haven’t you forgotten something, mademoiselle?” He smirked and you giggled. “Have I?”     “Yes. I think there is a naked man waiting for you in the bathroom.” He joked and you approached him with a amused yet cheeky smile. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles against your palm, as you looked up at his face with a mischievous look. “Is he hot?” “Right now, he is very hot.” He confessed, absolutely in the mood to play with you. “Better not keep him waiting, then.” You purred and you put your hand on one of the straps of your summer dress to gently make it slide along your shoulder.     That small sight of your naked skin made Chris hiss and unable to resist the urge to lay a trail of soft warm kisses from your neck down to your shoulder. You could tell the smoothness and the perfume of your skin were driving him crazy as his mouth soon started devouring you and muffled growls began vibrating in his throat.     His calloused hands roamed down your back, making you instinctively move your hips closer to his crotch, and he unzipped your dress. It dropped at your feet revealing your body that Chris gazed at with his brown eyes darkened by desire. They lingered on your breasts and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to touch them. He loved them too much for that. And so, his hands cupped them and his thumbs brushed your hard nipples. “Gosh, Y/N.” He breathing in, trying to calm his heart pounding in his chest “I can’t wait any longer.” Chris suddenly grabbed you and hoisted you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, which made you yelp.     Nevertheless, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, making his towel fall to the floor. “Oops. That was not voluntary.” You giggled. So did he. “Right.” And he rushed towards the bathroom, with you in his arms, his lips devouring yours in a hasty burning kiss on the way.

He set you up on the double washstand and quickly locked the door behind him, giving you a brief view of his divine firm behind, though you liked the front as much if not more right now. “What are you looking at like that?” He smirked. Well, his chiselled chest, his carved abs and that big hard cock. What a silly question! But you couldn’t say that and so instead you urged Chris to come closer to you, spreading your legs to welcome him between them.   He obeyed but instead of giving you that lustful hug and passionate kiss you were expecting, he crouched in between your legs and remove your panties, kissing your smooth legs, from thighs to feet, as he did. You clearly knew where that would eventually lead but you moaned anyway when you felt Chris put your legs on his shoulders and burry his face in between your thighs. “I told you I’d help you relax.”         “What about the hot bath?” You tilted your head towards the bubble bath he had run for you few minutes ago.     “Oh don’t worry, we’re getting there. But first you know how much I like licking your pussy.” He winked and his tongue lapped your slit up to your clit without waiting another second. A loud moan escaped your mouth as Chris sucked your bud loudly, pulling it between his lips, and he looked up at you with a proud smirk before focusing his attention back on your pussy.     He was good, very good even, way better than any other men you had ever been with. He knew exactly how to please you. He knew where the tip of tongue had to swirl to make you shiver, knew the right spot to suck to make you moan and when to add his fingers to make you cry out his name - which was right now by the way. “Oh my god, Chris!” You mewled loudly as you felt one of his fingers entering you, his mouth still eating your pussy up. Your legs instinctively clenched around your lover’s head while one of your hand found its way in his short hair. Then you heard Chris hum in between your thighs as he kept on licking you and fucking you with his finger, adding one more in the process. You pulled his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me now.” Chris complied and, after his tongue slid one last time in between your lips, he stood up to catch your lips in a new passionate kiss, making you taste your juices on his expert tongue. You could feel his cock against you, hard and slightly throbbing already, showing how impatient and aroused he was.       “Enter that bath, quick.” He ordered with a deep voice that made you shake against his body.

You obeyed and gladly let your burning body sink in the bubbly water, the lukewarm water cooling you off a bit (which wasn’t a bad thing). You were soon followed by Chris who entered the bath with a brutal eagerness that made the water waved a bit too much around both your bodies. “Don’t flood the apartment.” You giggled as you spread your legs to make him a place in the tub. “I can’t promise you that.” He confessed amused, as he grabbed his length in his hand to jerk it off a bit and guide it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. He tickled your swollen clit with his tip before entire you almost smoothly making you draw a sharp breath.         “Damn, you’re so tight.” Chris growled as he took hold of the edge of the bathtub above your head to push himself deeper inside of you, enjoying your wet walls around his cock. “You’re fucking big, you mean.” You said with a painful hiss that brutally calmed his ardour and made him consider immediately pulling out of you. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?” He worried, aware his girth needed get some getting used to and afraid that he hadn’t given you enough. “No, no. It’s okay. Just give me sec.” You cleared your throat and adjusted yourself underneath Chris, spreading your lips with your fingers to welcome him the way you both desired. Hard, big and rough. “Okay. Good now.”           “You sure?” He asked, definitely not willing to hurt you. You nodded and pressed your lips against him to show him how much you wanted him right now. He got the message and started moving inside of you, slowly yet deeply for now.

You dug your nails in his biceps and started moaning; taking delight in feeling him going in and out of you. It was just the most divine sensation in the world. He filled you so perfectly. “Chris. Please. Faster.” You begged.             He complied and started pounding you more quickly, hands still on the edge of the tub, towering you with his muscular body to assert his dominance over you the way you liked it. But it wasn’t enough for you and so you wrapped your legs around him forcing him to go balls deep inside of you. Chris smirked, loving your initiative. “You like it deep and rough, baby?” You cried out.   “I didn’t hear you”   “Yeeess.” You whimpered with small tears in your eyes. He hammered you harder, spilling water on the bathroom floor, and you clenched your walls around him. “Oh god!” You yelled, out of breath.

He was relentless, so strong, so fast, so deep you could hear his body slam against your skin and echo the splashes of the waves in the tub. “Come here.” He lay on his back and urged you to come and straddle him. And so you climbed on top of him, admiring how handsome he was underneath you. “Guide me into you.” You did as he said and directed his throbbing cock to your wanting pussy, welcoming him again inside your wetness, Hands pressed against his pectorals, you immediately started undulating on top of him, feeling the pleasure coming back in your lower stomach.         “That’s it. Keep going.” He whispered, gazing at you.

Chris’ hands crawled up your body to reach your breasts and play with them a bit, delicately pinching your pointy nipples, as you kept riding him. You knew he loved groping them and you also knew how much he loved them in his mouth as well. Therefore you decided to bent over him a bit, just enough for his face to reach your chest, holding on to the wall in front of you with one hand to keep your balance. Chris smiled, understanding perfectly your little game, and pulled one of your tits to his mouth to catch one nipple between his lips and suck it greedily.       It was apparently very pleasurable for him (even maybe more than it was for you, and it was a lot) since he started humming and growling loudly. You enjoyed hearing and seeing him like this very much, so much you stopped riding him to focus on this spectacle.            

It didn’t last long though as you soon felt you lover’s strong hands gripping your ass to make you bounce on his cock again. “I so want to cum, baby. Please make us both cum.” His words made you shiver of excitement and you locked your lips with his as you started rolling your hips onto him again.       But it was certainly not enough for Chris since after few seconds he suddenly grabbed your hips to slam deep in your pussy and relentlessly pound you from underneath. You screamed his name and hold on tight to him. He was very rough, so rough you could barely breathe, but you didn’t mind at all.     Soon, you felt your face become so red and your bundle of nerves become atrociously sensitive. You knew you were ready to explode. “Chris. I’m gonna cum.” He put his hand on your clit to stimulate it and help you reach your release, his cock hammering you even harder than before.       You clenched your pussy around his throbbing cock, making him groan because of how tighter you suddenly were. “Tell me I can cum in you, baby.” He asked, panting. He was very close too. “Yes, cum in me.” You didn’t need to say it twice as Chris immediately growled in your ear, slowed his pace, and spread his cum in your pussy with a last animalistic grunt as you came undone on top of him, yelling his name, your powerful orgasm almost knocking you out.

You collapsed on him, incapable of remaining straight. “Wow. That was something.” He chuckled, exhausted and out of breath, and so did you.             “You’re okay?” You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows. What a ridiculous question. “No, I’m being serious, Y/N. Wasn’t I a bit too rough?” He asked.       “You were perfect.” You admitted before kissing him tenderly.           “AND SO FUCKING LOUD!!!” You heard shouting from behind the wall. You both looked in the direction of the noise, understanding that your roommate had probably heard everything but despite the embarrassment you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Poor Sebastien.       “Why don’t we get out of that bath and cuddle a bit in bed? The water is getting cold.” Chris offered.   “I’d like that very much.” You smiled and managed to leave the tub, using the little energy you had left in your sore body.            

As you dried yourself, you saw Chris head towards the door with a towel draped around his waist. “Where are you going?” You asked.   “Taking some briefs in my room. See you in your room in a minute?” He smiled and you nodded, impatient to spend the night in his arms. “Can you bring me back my clothes and my bag while you’re at it?”           “Sure.”

Chris closed the door behind him and headed towards his room where he put on some clean underwear and picked up your stuff as you had asked. But the moment he grabbed your bag and caught a glimpse of the black notebook he had previously seen you inside, he knew he would probably not join you as soon as he had told you.         He watched it first, hesitant, knowing perfectly well that what he had in mind right now was very bad. It was one thing to steal a badge, but spying on you, that was going too far. “No, Chris. No.” He whispered to himself. And yet, he grasped the notebook and opened it.   It was a diary of some sort judging by the numerous dates he noticed as he quickly leafed through it. And if it was a diary then it was indeed very private, intimate even, certainly not his to read. He thought about putting it back in your bag for a second, but what if something valuable to his investigation was inside that notebook?         “Argh, fuck.” He cursed as he went to the first page.

“May, 14th 1998

Today made me regret the time I was just the intern bringing Professor Rochois his morning espresso. Umbrella is asking more and more of me, and the pressure they put on us workers is driving me insane. But what’s worse is that I’ve got the impression they are not telling us everything, especially concerning the experience the seasoned scientists are conducting in the north wing. But I guess I’ll soon have answers to my questions since Professor Rochois said that he was genuinely impressed by my devotion and was thinking of promoting me.”

Chris frowned, apprehension knotting his stomach. That didn’t sound good at all. He needed to learn more about that even if the moment was far from convenient. You could show up anytime and catch him red-handed.         He turned a few more pages, rapidly skimming through some notes he would definitely read another day, until he spotted a weird drawing of some octopus-like creature. What the hell was that thing?

“June, 7th 1998

The NE-a parasite. A parasitic species indented to retain intelligence. It has been developed by Umbrella Europe for years. At first I thought it was just a revolutionary way to cure brain damage. After all, that’s how it had been advertised to me. But the more I study it, the more I believe Umbrella may be up to something else other than treating brain injuries or Alzheimer. I don’t know what and I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His body was shaking and he could feel fear eating him up and he started imagining terrible things.   What if you were involved in the Spencer Mansion incident? No, no. You couldn’t be. And yet, Chris decided to have a look had the entries you wrote in July. He needed to reassure himself. One immediately drew his attention.

“July, 28th 1998

My superiors have been quite on edge lately, something to do with an incident that happened with the American branch of Umbrella from what I overheard. I don’t know what it is though, but I’m sure it must be pretty big because they doubled down security in the lab. The team and I have the impression we are living in a 1984 remake. The CCTVs are always recording and I sometimes have the strange sensation I’m being permanently spied on, even in the locker room. Maybe they have doubts about me because of the many questions I often ask about Project Nemesis.”

Project Nemesis? Y/N, what the hell were you working on in that lab?

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #fanfic #under her large umbrella #re2 remake inspired fan fiction

[scapegrace74-blog]

Saorsa, Chapter 16

A/N  Here is the next installment of Saorsa.  Jamie’s on a mission, and Ned Gowan makes his first appearance.  He keeps poking his head up in this story, like a marmot with a law degree.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging!  It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

For a man who couldn’t walk more than fifty yards without getting winded, Jamie Fraser was still a force to be reckoned with when he set his mind to a task.  In the two days since she’d confessed her dual secrets to him, he had directed labourers to a nearby bog to cut peat to burn through the winter instead of wood; suggested they mill the estate’s abundant acorns for flour, rather than letting the wild boar eat them all; shown Murtagh what was needed to repair the old grist mill; and sent the field hands out to collect the season’s last thornapples, so that Cook could stew them as preserves and dry them as fruit leather.  He deferred publicly to her position as Lady of Lallybroch in all matters, but it was clear that he knew a great deal more than she about the running of the estate in hard times.  How that came to be was a question she grew increasingly focused on answering.

With supper eaten and cleared away, they were now at opposite ends of the long couch in the great room.  Claire sat with her legs curled by her side, a novel resting on her thighs. Jamie's feet were extended on an ottoman as he listened attentively to BBC Radio broadcast the latest news of the war.

Her guest treated the war with odd disassociation.  Unlike most every other man she knew, he neither gloried in Britain’s triumphs nor seemed overly moved by her defeats.   He asked strange questions about the location of Pearl Harbor and the size and nature of a Panzer division, but otherwise absorbed the news in silence.  The Duke of Sandringham’s comment about the dubious dedication of the Scots to the war effort came to mind.  In truth, she barely knew Jamie, but she was certain he was not a coward nor a draft dodger.   As usual, all her suppositions about his motivations led her to barred doors that she did not feel entitled to open.

The news ended with the usual orchestral flourish and was replaced by quiet jazz.

Jamie stirred and looked her way.  “I’ve been thinking, Sassenach...”

She smirked, both at the now-familiar nickname and the fact that Jamie always seemed to be thinking.  He was often silent, as though over-awed by the simplest of daily occurrences, but it was clear that he was a man who reasoned deeply, yet preferred action to words.  It was a practical intelligence, when contrasted with Frank’s cerebral style.  If her late husband had been a florid adjective, James Fraser was all verb.

“I ken tis yer decision but would it no’ be wise tae consult the law about yer… situation?” he finished delicately.   She’d yet to tell anyone else about Frank’s death or her pregnancy, and she appreciated Jamie’s discretion.

“I thought of that, Jamie.  But I’m worried about what will happen if word gets back to the Duke of Sandringham before I’m ready.  He’s connected to every High Street lawyer in Scotland, I’m certain of it.”

Jamie grinned what she’d come to consider his piratical grin before suggesting, “Aye.  Where’er in Scotland could we find a man of the law who wouldna go blethering tae an English laird about keepin’ Lallybroch out of ‘is clutches?”

She couldn’t help smiling back at him, despite the seriousness of her situation.  Their eyes clutched and held for a long moment, before she broke the hold and looked down at her lap, smile fading.

“If you could make some discreet inquiries…” she murmured.

“Consider it done.”  He rose carefully from the couch and came to stand before her.

“It’s time fer me tae be beddin’ down wi’ Murtagh in the croft, Mistress Beauchamp.”

The switch from the familiar to the formal was not lost of her, and she rebelled against it instinctively.

“Absolutely not!  You’re still healing.  And you are not a labourer.  You’re my guest.”

“I’ve strayed in yer bed too long already,” he protested, and then blushed as he realized what he’d just said.  He plowed ahead anyway.  “Yer a widowed woman, and tis no’ right for me tae… weel, ye ken what I mean.”

“I most certainly do not.  I’ve been a widow for as long as you’ve known me.  Nothing about that has changed.   I will not hear of it, Jamie.  If you feel badly for depriving me of my bed, we can switch bedchambers.  You aren’t sleeping in that damp croft, and that’s final.”   She rose to stand in front of him, her fists resting against her hips and her chin thrown back in defiance.

“Did no-one e’er tell ye that yer as stubborn as a whole team o’ oxen, Sassenach?” he said with resigned affection.

“Let there be no mistake, Mister Fraser.  I’m far more stubborn than a whole team of oxen.”

**

Ned Gowan looked every bit the part of a disreputable lawyer.  His long hair was pulled back into a greasy pigtail, and he had the narrow, canny eyes of a larcenist.  Jamie would not divulge where he’d located the man, but he begged Claire to listen with an open mind as he set forth his argument.

The royal grant that saw Lallybroch pass from a family of Jacobite traitors into the hands of Frank Randall’s ancestors was clear.  Lallybroch would be held in perpetuity by successive generations of Randalls until there was no direct heir, at which time it would pass to the current Duke of Sandringham, to whose line protectorship of the estate had been given.  As long as the customary payment of a hundred pounds was made twice a year and a Randall resided at the estate, Lallybroch was theirs.

There could be no question in anyone’s mind that the child Claire bore was the lawful heir of Captain Frank Randall, conceived after their marriage and before his death.

Therefore, once born her child would be the natural inheritor of Lallybroch.   During the child’s minority, Claire would hold the estate in trust and be responsible for its management.

“Even though I’m a woman?  Even though I’m… not a Scot?” Claire asked, her hand unconsciously touching her still-flat belly.

“Oh, yes, my dear.  British history is full of examples of foreign women wielding power in the absence of their native husbands.   On that subject, the law is very clear,” the lawyer responded with a twinkle in his eye.  “I’m not saying the Duke will not try to contest it, but the child you carry is the future Lord or Lady of Lallybroch.”

She was totally engrossed in what Ned Gowan was saying, so she missed the look of mute agony that travelled over Jamie’s face.

**

The relief she felt after Ned Gowan’s visit put her in a playful mood.  She ribbed Jamie good-naturedly about his peculiar fondness for Cook’s cock-a-leekie soup at the supper table.

“Tis almost as good as my mam’s recipe, Sassenach.  She would make it when’er I was ill, or when I strayed too long in the dreich and came home frozen tae the marrow, which was often.”

She opened her mouth to ask about his mother, but he forestalled her question with his own.

“Where’abouts are yer people, Sassenach?  I ken they’re no’ here in Scotland, but do they visit ye?”

The smile fled from her face, and Jamie immediately looked contrite.

“Claire, I dinna mean to…”

“It’s alright.  It’s just that, well… I don’t have any ‘people’.  Not really.  Not the way you mean.”

He emitted a soft sigh and reached for her hand where it rested on the table.

“My, err… my parents died when I was quite young.  In the influenza epidemic that followed the Great War.  My uncle, Lambert, raised me until I was old enough to attend boarding school.   It was quite the unconventional upbringing, visiting all manner of places, wherever his work took him.   He was an archaeologist, you see.”

Jamie nodded absently.

“Lamb died before the war.  Cancer.  It’s been just me since then.   Well, and Frank.”

“How long were ye marrit tae ‘im?”

“Less than a year.   Love during wartime, I suppose.  We met last June, were married by October, and he was deployed only weeks later.  We last saw each other in August, and then…”  Her free hand unconsciously strayed to her flat tummy.

“I’m sae sorry, Sassenach.”   She was grateful there wasn’t an ounce of pity in his tone, only sincere regret.

“No, it’s alright.  It sounds cold, but we weren’t together long enough for me to truly miss him.  Anyway, you asked after my people, but all I have are memories.”

A pained noise burst from Jamie’s throat.

“Ye ken that isna true, Claire.  Afore ye know it, ye’ll have yer wee bairn tae raise.  And the men and women of this estate care for ye, truly.”

“Do they?” she asked, glancing at him sideways.

“Aye.”  Jamie nodded, but said no more.

#my writing #outlander

[cowboylikedean]

folklermore spn finale: the last great american dynasty

Okay so this post took forever to write for a couple reasons. 

First of all, this one is special in that it has two readings for my grief.

The first one is terrible and heartbreaking and honestly I don’t want to spend a lot of time on it. I see Andrew Dabb as THE great villain of Supernatural, and he truly had a marvelous time ruining everything. The sarcastic nature of the song goes in to speak to the fact that I feel legitimately crazy for how much I blame him. It’s sad and heartbreaking. I think about it sometimes when i hear this song and instantly force myself to stop thinking about it and go back to the other view. 

So the other view is more what you might expect with the vibe of the song... but it is SO HARD for me to put into words, I found. So I’m sorry if this is messy and disjointed and all over the place. 

I spoke in cardigan’s post about how I’m not the fan the show wanted and there’s a large part of the narrative in the folkermore-spn-finale feelings for me that expresses not being the fan the narrative wanted or needed.... Most of the time this is brought up in this, it’s angry, or sad, or whatever... but this time... this time it celebrates it.

I had a marvelous time ruining everything.

Putting this under a cut because it’s very long. I didn’t mean for this to get this long rip.

I let myself sink into the feelings of wonder and awe I felt when I first fell in love with the show and then let myself find the conclusion that IF I did in fact “ruin everything” (aka the show) by not being the fan the show needed me to be to enjoy it, at least I had a good fucking time!

From that first bit where Taylor sings that Rebekah’s salt box house took her mind of St. Louis.... Supernatural took my mind off my life too. I remember when I first watched the show, I was 20 and I’d just failed out of school (the first time). I was lying to my mother and her husband (who I lived with) about going to school. I rode the city bus at the time because I didn’t have my license yet. I’d leave the house and say I was going to the bus stop down the street. Instead, I hid in the woods that separated my neighborhood from my grandfather’s back yard. I worked at his house “after school” every day from 4-6, taking care of his house, doing light cleaning and cooking, helping him adjust to being a double amputee so it worked out nice. Every night I pre-loaded 5 hours of episodes on my computer so I didn’t need the internet and every day I would sit in the cold on a log and put my computer on a slightly bigger log and curl up in my warm coat for a day of Supernatural before heading inside to Pappou’s house at 4. Sometimes, I just waited until the afternoon when I knew my mom would be gone and I could go home where it was warm and I had wifi. Sometimes though I got wrapped up and I just stayed there.. all day. 

Supernatural is, what I would consider, one of the last great american TV shows. Like... It’s right there with Grey’s Anatomy as the last TV shows that have an actual following where people watch it and it’s a thing that haven’t been corrupted by the streaming world. Television is so important to me, it’s my favorite medium of storytelling and it’s been lost. Streaming destroyed it. People say we’re living in a “golden age” because there’s “so much good TV” but there’s NOT! What we have is high production quality on a lot of mini-series and long-format movies that have been randomly split up into “episodes” but don’t make sense if you space them out in any way. The episodic serial format of television has been LOST and that’s heartbreaking... 

But to me... this song... it’s about The Last Great American TV Show, The Last Great American Fandom, The Last Great American Dynasty over my life, my fandom, my relationship with tv, and my world view. 

The line “How did a middle class divorcee do it?” also just... First of all there’s something so distinctly American about it... We all know Supernatural is itself a sort of lover letter to Americana... it’s the aesthetic of Nowhere USA which is part of what makes it so effective and heartbreaking. The line in the song is about how Rebekah was just... boring, average, a little sad. Someone unremarkable you feel a little pity for. That’s the Nowhere USA of the aesthetic of the show... THAT’S the heartbeat of “Americana.” It’s boring, average, unremarkable, a little sad, you kinda pity it, it shouldn’t be that deep, but it is. It’s when the unremarkable accomplishes the remarkable. And that’s the whole myth they fed us as kids, isn’t it? I could never explain the beauty of this line inside or outside the context of Supernatural to someone who isn’t US American so I’ll just stop trying... but it’s just kljasfkd 

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that first stanza in the first verse... When I fell in love with Supernatural, I was boring unremarkable, a little sad... and the show was a wealth of possibilities... but also I was at a point where I was getting over the main fandom I’d had for the past year and a half (Buffy) and I had just fallen in love with Sherlock and I had nothing but time. I wasn’t bogged down with the anxiety of school, I got to devote my whole life and existence to this show. I was also a wealth of possibilities, and as we know the show was also boring, average, unremarkable, and a little sad. Both me and the show were Bill and both me and the show were Rebekah.

So when the wedding between me and the show was charming, if a little gauche it made sense cause there’s only so far new money goes. For me, this represents 2012-Mishapocalpyse: The Golden Age... Look... It’s no secret 2012 was my favorite year of all time... Tumblr was small and fun and hadn’t been corrupted by wanting or trying to be “cool” or “edgy” or “interesting.” I chose the mishapocalypse for the end of this era to me because that was the last time I felt like I could come on tumblr and really just LET GO into insanity. Almost instantly people were shit talking it as if it was not the single most fun 24 hours this website had ever had. In 2013, we saw the rise of YFIP and people trying so hard to “””prove””” they were “”””cool”””” unlike ~those~ tumblr people!!! It was pathetic. But in 2012, we just... had fun. And it was charming, if a little out there. But there really is only so far that the youthful innocence of an online community that’s new goes. 

But I picked out a home on tumblr. And our parties were tasteful if a little loud. Tumblr in 2012/2013 was..... Fun. From mapcrunch to the mishapocalpyse. Some would argue about taste, but I’d say... “if a little loud.” I really just can’t separate the fun I had on tumblr back then from spn and I can’t separate spn from the fun I had back then. 

But then of course, we all need to settle down some times because the fun doesn’t last forever. In this line, I hear myself in both Bill and Rebekah and I hear the show in both Bill and Rebekah. Both of our hearts gave out and the other way to blame. 

So then the chorus... “who knows if she never showed up what could have been?” I CHANGED because of the show, I don’t know who the hell I’d BE without it! And likewise, I don’t think *I* personally changed the actual show, but the show WAS changed by each one of us. The show itself is folklore, changed and shaped in each retelling. There’s a creative freedom to the chorus that lives in that love.

So then there’s the second verse. After the rose colored glasses came off, Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever and I gave up on the greater spn fandom forever. I dropped the hellers and joined the tight knit Dean stans. This verse is about living in spite. It’s that wild American rebellion mixed with a little bit of sensual romanticism. In season 9, it was us against the world. And the reality is we were angrier than this verse gives and less free and fun... but looking back, it felt like A Time. I don’t know how to put it into words really but it was like... We found ways (and continue to find ways) to celebrate Dean when we weren’t supposed to. Fuck everyone else Dean is perfect. 

And then in the second verse, we celebrate that rebellion. The change from “the maddest woman” to “the most shameless woman” in the chorus is so important here... In the first chorus, Rebekah and I were mad and crazy and wild. In the second chorus, we had no shame. We lived IN SPITE of the state of the world around us and fucked anyone who had anything to say about it. 

In the first chorus, “who knows if she never showed up what could have been” paired with “maddest” has this creative potential. Like who knows who I would have been without spn and who knows what the show would have been without us, the fandom. And in the second chorus, that line changes to this destructive force. Like the show and I were both shameless to just exist, you know? because we would have been better without each other... but even as it acknowledges that, it’s still... sweet.

So then we have the time I left the fandom. Here we only hear bits and pieces of Rebekah’s life and Rebekah’s time in Holiday House. She was only seen “on occasion.” And on occasion, you could find me reblogging some Dean stan posts, getting into spats with Sam stans, posting about how the writers suck, calling out a heller. But 7 years is a long time and my fandom sat quietly in the history of my blog... And then it was picked up by me. 

Rebekah, in the song, refers to my past. My previous relationship with the show. Taylor’s part refers to my current relationship with the show. 

Who knows if I never showed up what could have been? If I never came back, what would my life look like? It would have been healthier, I’m sure. But then again - I needed this. And if the show hadn’t came back who would I be? 

But there goes the loudest non-woman this fandom has ever seen. I will scream from the ROOFTOPS! and what I want to scream is EVERYTHING from the past but with my full grown adult context. I know now more than I knew then that I had a MARVELOUS TIME ~ruining everything~!!! And I get to CELEBRATE THAT! I get to let go and have fun. I get to sit and think of Nov 5 and how that night, I relived those parties that were tasteful if a little loud. And then every day since I relived flying in the Bitch Pack friends from the city. I get to CELBRATE!

I may not have been the fan the show wanted. I may have fucked shit up. I may have lived in spite of this show even when I lived because of it. But damn I had a marvelous FUCKING TIME Ruining. Everything. Everything this show built it wanted me to see and love and appreciate with these toxic fucking relationships and the destruction of Dean Winchester can KISS MY ASS cause I had a MARVELOUS time fucking that shit up. Everything this show wanted from me that I refused to give it. Every SPEC of growth and learning and fun and enjoyment I have had from this show.... was toxic. It ruined it. Because it was not the growth and learning and fun and enjoyment the show WANTED ME TO HAVE. But damn did I have fun. 

The show and I are the last great American dynasty full of rebellion and spite and damn is it fun. 

#tlgad #taylor analysis #putting this in that tag because i mean #folklermore spn finale #personal #i SPENT FOREVER on this #god i'm so glad i got this out #but i don't know if it will make sense to anyone but me #tlgad spn finale

[haikyuu-and-more-haikyuu]

if your fave hq characters had pets, what sort of animals would they have?

Ah! This sounds like so much fun! I’ll just do karasuno, tell me if you want my take on the others teams too or background characters! Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes or weird sentences- I am over stimulated from work and it hurts to think! But I wanted to get this out before bed :D 

Daichi: He’s a big doggo person. He likes big dogs becuse he can rough house with them and take long road runs with them. He is gets a Alaskan Malamute named Wakana, since she is so vocal.  And even when the dog grown up, she still thinks she is a lap dog, Daichi literally have to push her off if he wants to get things done. Wakana always puts up a light fight. Such a drama queen. 

Sugawara: He doesn’t have time for much and doesn't want a high energy animal since he deals with 30+ monkey since he is a elementary school teacher, so he gets two bunnies. Both boys, a white one and a grey one. The grey one is named Mitsou and the white one is named Masa. Mitsou has a temper and will often stump his feet if he is disatisfied (when Suga doesn't give him cuddles) while Masa is just happy to be there :D

Asahi: He get’s a St. Bernard's dog and just looks scarier than he already does. But that big doggo is the cutest dog. He liked cuddle and get attention and will often just sit by Asahi or visitors sides until he get’s the attention he wants. He also is quick to snatch up food that has fallen on the ground and often begs for left overs. He rarely gets some. His name is Sora

Nishinoya: He doesn't get a pet until late into adulthood. He traveled around the world and wouldn't have had the time to care for a pet. But when he eventually does settle down, he gets a greyhound. He needed a partner that was just as playful as him and also a challenge. His name is Tsuyoshi, which means strong. 

Tanaka: Get’s a dog like a light brown bull terrier. His name is Arata, and he is just as rowdy as his owner. But also really cuddly and attention seeking. He chews up his toys in minutes, so Tanaka has to by really strong toys so they actually last. He also liked to by clothes to the dig since Arata doesn't mind.

Ennoshita: This chill dude gets a chill catto. they like laughing together and just take a nap. The cat goes out and comes back after a few hours. That is how they both like it. He names the cat Rina. She got kind of too lazy at one point and gained a little bit of weight. So Rina had to learn to walk on a leash with Ennoshita and it works well. 

Narita: Is allergic to cats and dogs. (if you guys didn’t know, its the enzymes in the spit that people react too, not the fur itself) Taking shots and medications for it is too much of a hazzle for him, so he gets a big fish thank and fills it with fishes and a few eels and snails too. They don’t do much but it’s exciting to see them swim around minding their own business. He also likes to by new items and sea weed for them so their tank gets decorations and a little personality. Some of them follow his fingers when he is close. 

Kinoshita: Got a sphynx from a family friend that just had a littler. His was surprised to see how cuddly and playful they were. His cat is also curious and talkative. The cat, named Sushi, becuse Kinoshita tried to make sushi one time and the cat jumped up and tried the almost done roll, often greets him when he comes home. he also like to sleep with Hishashi in the same bed. Kinoshita also buys him winter and summer clothes so the cat doesn’t freeze to death or get sun burned when he is out. Kinoshita has fallen greatly in love with that wrinkly monster.

Kageyama: That video I reblogged of that volleyball playing doggo, that is Kags doggo. (lol jk) He gets a dog, a little, fluffy pomeranian, to everyone surprise. The old lady next door died and when she didn’t have any family members that could take in the dog, Kageyama offered to take the two year old dog into his care. Her name is Yoko. She is playful and often nibble on his sock when he is relaxing. She has a blanket she likes to sleep in and is really cute when she does so. Kageyama has tried to take the small dog on road runs, but the little Yoko gets too tired and needs to be carried the rest of the way; (small dogs doesn’t need as much exercise as bog doggos)

Hinata: I saw this pintrest post about Hinata owning a mimi turtle (or baby turtle) and yes! He get’s a lil turtle that he names Hikari (light). He likes to feed her berries and often talks to her when he rambles on about his days and need some company. She is often walking by herself in the living room and it took Hinata a few times before he was smart enough to tie a long red yarn around her for him to know where she was. He once lost her and didn’t find her until two days later. He though he had killed her. Hinata likes to think that Hikari likes to be on his head (but to the turtle, it’s the same)

Tsukishima: He and Akiteru tried to convince their mother to let them have a tiger or a bearded dragon. But Mrs Tsukishima said no and that was it. When he gets older, he gets two birds. Named Rex and Strawberry (named after a dinosaur and his fave dessert). Birds are actually very cuddly and often likes to be with their human and play or just relax. So they wouldn't be in their cage when Tsukishima is just home. If he has visitor they need to be in the cage for a few hours. He also learns them words and always whistle when its feeding time. Birds pick up on that too. They have leaned Tsukki, since Yamaguchi calls him that, and now Tsukishima can hear his nickname 24/7.

Yamaguchi: It’s canon that Yama is a dog person, so he would defiantly have a doggo (or two when he grows up) His family currently have a Shiba Inu that they got then he was in middle school. Yama wanted to name it french fry, but Tsukki didn’t let him. So he named it Yukiko since the dog likes winter so much! Like him! He gets his how dogs when he is well into adulthood. 

Yachi: When she lived with her mom, before she moved out, they didn't have any pets since the complex didn’t allow pets and her mom were too busy taking care of a pet. She get’s a hamster names Sho.  (It means to fly) she named it that because his fur his black and it reminded her of karasuno. He doesn't do much except for run in his wheel-thing and relax in his tunnel. She likes re-decorate his thank and by new stuff for him. It’s a little spoiled hamster. 

Shimizu: Get’s an isle cat that like to sun bathe and cuddle with her on the sofa. the cat has a running wheel and uses it sometimes when Kiyoko is in the room with there. She is brown, black and white. The cat also likes to sit on the counter when Shimizu makes food, just to observe. He name is Aki, and Kiyoko named her that becuse her fur remained her of autumn. 

Ukai: Gets a mop that becomes the next store pet. He got the dog when it had trend three years and was put out for adoptions. His name is Hibiki he is often seen relaxing on his bed by the counter in the store. He doesn’t bark much, but when a few rowdy school kids passes through the store, he can get a little worked up. Most of the time, everyone is fine with the little helper Sakanoshita has gotten. 

Takeda: Gets a dog after a few years. He gets a cocker spaniel that is playful and rowdy and stick his nose into everything. The garbage, his closet or cabinets; you name it. His name is Dai. He once got so excited of seeing a bird outside, that he ran straight into a glass door. He was fine and so was the glass. Takeda was surprised when he saw how energetic the dog was becoming. 

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