#we called it television rot

[inkskinned]

we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."

we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."

we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.

we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.

we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.

we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.

do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.

i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.

we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.

and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.

tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.

#spilled ink #warm up #sorry for going missing lol #my week in review: #got in trouble at work #for not being at work during non-working hours #then crashed my car within 2 hours of this #and then less than 24 hours after that #in the hospital with the flu #im okay now but ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm #who put a fuckken curse on me #btw this rant is trans inclusive love u

[ddejavvu]

eddie brock is the og loser boyfriend and i can’t stop thinking about venom just like completely bullying him when he’s in a relationship like his partner is like this drop dead gorgeous person and eddie wears the same sweaty jacket all the time and eats frozen tater tots haha

"There are crumbs on your shirt." Venom observes, and when Eddie nods with a noncommittal grunt, he continues, "And it is not a shirt. It is a sweatshirt. A sweaty sweatshirt, Eddie. And you wore it yesterday."

"That I did," Eddie crams another handful of chips into his mouth, salted and straight from the bag. His attention remains solely on the television in front of him, and Venom's goopy form shakes its head.

"Y/N is coming over later." He reminds the human, watching with disdain as Eddie chokes slightly on his mouthful because of the way he's slouched in his seat. He swallows regardless, and when he speaks, his voice is gruff from the irritation in his throat.

"Yeah, she'll be here in a few minutes," Eddie nods, "Hey, do you think they fake this show? The drama, and all."

Venom has no interest in whether the trashy reality show that Eddie is so enraptured by is fake or not. He cares that you'll be here any minute now, and Eddie looks like a corpse that's been rotting for a few days.

When the doorbell rings, Eddie moves to get up. Crumbs begin raining onto the carpet and he groans as his lazy joints ache, so Venom shoves him back into place with a strong tentacle and uses another to stretch and open the door for you.

You're clearly expecting a person on the other side, but you're quick to recognize the tentacle you're met with instead. It wraps greedily around your waist and you place your hand over its sticky form, grinning as you're barely able to shut the door behind you before Venom yanks you over to the couch.

"Hi, baby," Eddie greets, tipping his head onto the back of the sofa to grin upside-down at you, "How are you?"

"Good," You lean down to kiss him upside down, and Venom is appalled that you're willing to put your lips on Eddie's crumb-coated ones.

"Sour cream and onion?" You guess, and you're rewarded with the near-empty bag of them that Eddie had been demolishing.

You settle happily onto the couch by Eddie's side with the chips in your hand, and when Venom begins to let go of you you hold his tentacle in place. The symbiote watches you silently for a moment, observing your behavior and thinking a whole host of unsavory thoughts about humans and their disgusting tendencies.

"I do not understand," Venom interrupts your gushy sentiments with Eddie about how terrible the acting is on so-called 'reality' shows, "Eddie is disgusting."

The man's nose wrinkles and you let out a scoff of a laugh.

"Thank you, Venom. That's very kind of you. Did you forget you're made of slime?"

"Slime does not sweat. And I do not have crumbs stuck all over me."

"Venom, being in a relationship with someone means that you need to be comfortable with them. We don't have to dress up all the time, Y/N knows what I look like in pajamas and I've seen her hair unbrushed in the morning."

Venom, too, recalls the rather impressive tangled mess of hair that you sport after a night of deep sleep.

"You do not mind that he smells?" Venom turns to you, his milky-white eyes blinking with a squelch.

"He's smelled worse," You give a half-shrug, only one of your shoulders moving as you squirm closer to Eddie beneath the blanket he's draped over you.

"You're both too good to me," Eddie grins, batting his lashes sarcastically, "Careful not to flatter me too much, don't want my head to get too big to fit in my helmet."

Venom regards Eddie for a moment, then thinks of the motorcycle helmet the man breathes into every day. It's repulsive.

"Your head is already abnormally large," Venom observes, settling into Eddie's shoulder opposite from you, "I will keep insulting you so that it does not get bigger. You are repulsive."

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock scenario #eddie brock oneshot #eddie brock one-shot #eddie brock one shot #eddie brock headcanon #eddie brock headcanons #eddie brock hc #eddie brock hcs #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock fic #eddie brock x you #eddie brock x y/n #eddie brock x reader fanfiction #eddie brock blurb #eddie brock drabble #eddie brock dialogue #venom x reader #venom x you #venom x y/n #venom fanfiction #venom oneshot #venom imagine #venom drabble #venom blurb

[bitchlessdino]

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n

[kagu-une]

you and mingi have been friends since childhood; you thought that you knew everything there was to know about him. there is just one secret: he's in love with you, and the feelings may be reciprocated.

pairing. song mingi x fem!reader

genre. smut mature themes ahead. minors do not interact.

content warnings. another friends-to-lovers trope (i'm not sorry). non-idol!au. dom!mingi. sub!reader. desperate sex? idk how to put it, you'll see. possible jealousy? possessive!mingi. fingering (f receiving). use of pet names such as 'baby'', 'good girl'. gentle degradation?? praise. big pp!mingi...... unprotected sex (use protection or Else). a little teenie weenie bit of plot. ahem. anyways

a/n. it seems that i write best at the ass crack of dawn, or in a (nonexistent) time crunch. anyways this is a drabble that's been living in my fully furnished frontal lobe for a while, hope it lives up to your expectations @lissiesykes :p this has not been proofread btw

smut beneath the drop down!

it was the same saturday ritual that has carried on for years since you started college and moved into your own apartment: your best friend, mingi, would come over and the two of you would waste the evening away by rotting on your couch, and forcing him to watch whatever series was your newest hyperfixation.

this saturday was no different. you had long since showered and changed into a pair of dilapidated sweatpants, and a shirt that you were sure was mingi's, but figured it shrunk in the dryer. you had just finished the usual routine of microwaving a bag of popcorn when you heard a familiar knock at your door. setting the bag of popcorn on the counter to cool off, you padded across the living room to answer the door. behind it stood mingi, his large stature easy filling up the doorframe. though you watched him hit his growth spurts as a kid, his height always caught you by surprise.

"hey!" you greeted him with a soft smile, stepping off to the side to allow him to enter your apartment.

"hey," replied he as he entered, kicking his shoes off by the door. he shrugged off the hoodie that he wore as he made his way into the living room and tossed it over the back of the sofa. "it smells good in here."

you chuckle to yourself as you close the door and lock the deadbolt; mingi said the same thing every time he stepped foot into your home, even though you made the same snacks nearly every time.

"i'd hope so... it's popcorn." you had returned to the kitchen to grab a bowl from a cabinet, and proceeded to dump the popcorn into it now that it was cool enough to handle. "we're almost done with ratched, is it cool if we finish it tonight?"

mingi had since made himself comfortable on the couch, stretching his legs out to rest against the coffee table. he turned to face you from his seat as you spoke. "of course, i was looking forward to the finale, anyways."

he took it upon himself to turn the television on, knowing you'd be joining him on the couch soon enough. he launched netflix and clicked your profile, scrolling until he found the 'recently watched' section. mingi selected the show and got comfortable in his seat. you hurried to your spot next to him, snacks in hand as the introduction to the show began to play on the tv screen.

the show had long since ended, and the two of you weren't quite ready to call it quits just yet; so, you were both facing each other, having a rather lively conversation about something that had transpired in your younger years.

"dude," mingi let out an exasperated laugh as he carded a hand through his hair. "you totally froze when you tried to ask that guy out for prom. what was his name again? hongjoong?"

you groan out in residual embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands to conceal the blush that rose on your cheeks. "do you have to remind me? god, i bet he was just as embarrassed," your voice came out muffled as you spoke into your palms.

mingi's fingers curled around your wrists and pulled your hands away, laughs still bubbling past his lips. "c'mon, y/n, it isn't that bad. when is your date with him anyways?"

your ears picked up on the jealousy that tinged his voice when he brought up the fact that, yes, you did have a date with hongjoong coming up. you had reconnected with him after seeing him on a dating app. curiosity got the best of you and you swiped right — it was a match! you brought it up to mingi last saturday, and you swore that you saw his shoulders deflate just a little when you told him. you decided not to bring it up, but you couldn't help but to think that mingi looked dejected when he left that night. maybe you were thinking too much into it.

"on wednesday, i think– why does it matter to you?"

"awe," whatever hint of jealousy that you think you heard was now drowned in a playful tone. "are you getting shy?"

mingi leaned over to poke you and tickle your side, which earned a shriek from you as you launched yourself backwards to get out of his arm's reach. you batted his hand away once your back was pressed into the opposing arm of the couch. it didn't take much for mingi to close that gap, reaching for your sides once more. somehow you both got into some sort of one-upping-wrestling-match — you trying to get away from mingi, who was dead set on trying to tickle you — that landed you both on the floor.

mingi took the upper hand as he straddled your waist, and pinning your wrists to the rug beneath you. a triumphant smile was plastered on the cheeky bastard's face — he knew he had won. the two of you mirrored each other's labored breathing as you looked up at the man above you, eventually locking eyes.

the same man that got to watch you grow up, and you, him.

the same man who, when your first boyfriend broke your heart, mingi broke his nose.

mingi, who would schedule his weekends to make time for you.

mingi, with that same lazy smile that he's always had. the same smile that caused your heart to skip a beat in your chest.

the realization that you were in love with your best friend hit you like a freight train. as your eyes dipped to his plump lips, you wondered what this meant for your friendship. the last thing you wanted was to lose your best friend.

you sucked in a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding, and that soft noise is what set things into motion. mingi lowered himself on top of you, closing the gap between your bodies. his lips crashed onto yours with a ferocity that you've never seen from mingi before.

you whimper softly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking it on it. mingi understood what was being asked and pulled away to remove it. this allowed you to catch your breath... and for reality to come crashing down on you.

"mingi," you breathed out, your meek plea too quiet for him to hear over the roar of his own heartbeat in his ears.

he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the side, before leaning forward to hover over you again, each of his hands posted on either side of your head. you did your best to keep your gaze off of his newly exposed skin.

you repeated, "mingi." it caught his attention now, mingi's eyebrow raising. "we can't do this." you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, but the disquietudes that swirled in your head told you to believe otherwise.

"goddamn it, y/n." he almost sounded defeated.

him cursing caught you off guard. it wasn't that you had never heard mingi cuss, because you had and did; but, never at you.

"don't you get it?" his voice was small, almost a whisper. "i love you. i've been in love with you for so long, y/n."

the confession caused your stomach to flip. whether it be out of excitement or fear was to be determined.

"i watch as you choose other people knowing that i can treat you right. i know you, y/n. everything about you. i was made for you."

mingi's face closed in on yours, and the fact that you weren't protesting only encouraged him to continue.

"no one understands you like i do. no one can make me feel so alive like you can. i don't want to live with the regret of knowing that i never tried. i need this for me." his breath fanned your face as he spoke.

his lips were brushing yours by this point. there was no denying the emotions that buzzed between you both. your hands snaked around his shoulders and pulled him forward, officially sealing your fate.

there was no time wasted from here. mingi's mouth connects with yours fiercely. his kiss instantly becomes intense as he lowers himself onto his elbows, allowing him to cradle your head in one of his hands. his fingers grip at your hair, anchoring your head back. when a soft moan slips out of you is when he plunges his tongue into your mouth. mingi moves with passion, and hope; yet, is far more calculated in his movements than you expected.

you lift your legs up to remind him that he is still sitting on you. one of his chuckles falls against your lips as he shifts his weight, using his knees to push your thighs apart and slots himself in the space between them.

when he pulls away, a string of saliva beads between your bottom lips. you break it with your finger as mingi moves to tug at your sweatpants. from your position, you could see that a tent of arousal began to form in the crotch of mingi's jeans. with the joggers out of the way, mingi could see how your panties clung to your core, your arousal blooming on the gusset.

"you have no idea how often i've thought of you like this." admitted mingi, that shit eating grin returning to his plump lips. he trailed a finger over your clothed slit, eyes flicking up to your face to watch your reactions to his touch. noting how you arched your back to chase the feeling, he tugged your panties to the side.

a shiver raced through you once your cunt was exposed, though you blushed feverishly underneath mingi's scrutiny. he continued to toy with you, leisurely and with no hurry. he dipped a finger to your entrance, only to collect your juices on his fingertips and repeat the process.

"don't be a tease, mingi," you whined out in protest, reaching down to lead his hand where you needed them most. you couldn't help but to be impatient. mingi's hands were always nice, and they had recently occupied your mind when you touched yourself.

"oh?" he asked, rhetorically. to pacify your whines, he pushed a finger into you, but held it there at the second knuckle. his thumb took position over your clit and applied enough pressure to make you shudder. "how bad do you want it, then?"

you were in no position to beg to begin with, and mingi knew it. the lack of friction was driving you crazy, but when you decided to gyrate your hips to seek out the pleasure, mingi pinned your hips down to the ground. his hand pressed into your belly, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken dare.

"tell me how bad, baby."

then he began to move his finger inside of you. at first, they were short strokes with him curling it every so often. his thumb had resorted to gentle circles against your clit.

though, when you hadn't spoken to oblige his request, another finger was added. you moaned softly as you were stretched out. usually, two fingers weren't enough to make you feel full. with mingi, however, it was just right.

he began to pull his fingers out of you, stopping just before he left you completely empty — only to thrust them back into you, bottoming out to his knuckles.

you let out a strangled cry, trying to press your knees together from the stimulation but the way mingi had you pinned made it impossible to achieve. he leaned into his hand, beginning to open you up with his fingers.

"please- fuck- mingi!" you managed, throwing your head back at the pleasure.

"there you go, y/n, i knew you could beg for it." mingi's eyes were trained on his hand, watching as your pussy swallowed his fingers up. "i make you feel so good, don't i? look at how wet you are."

you nod fervently, clinging onto every word that left his mouth. "please, mingi... i-... i need you so bad. so bad." you weren't meaning to babble so mindlessly. everything about this situation had your head reeling.

"good fucking girl." he punctuated every one of his words with deep thrusts of his fingers into you. you knew that if he kept it up at this pace, you wouldn't last much longer; even more so when he used his free hand to massage your clit.

the familiar heat began to pool in your stomach. every nerve was alive, your skin crawling with electricity. "m... mingi, i'm so close..." your eyes screwed shut as you tried your best to postpone the impending orgasm.

mingi was a man on a mission as he began to mouth at your breasts through your shirt. you pulled it up and out of the way, pushing your bra down so that your breasts were bare. his eyes drank in the sight of you as more of your body was exposed. he was a starving man sat before a feast. his plush lips closed around one of your nipples, sucking it between his teeth and rolling it between them. you cried out, your hands finding their way into mingi's hair and tugging at it.

the heat licked at your belly and spread down to your thighs as your climax closed in on you. you tried to warn him, but you were only left with your jaw slack as your orgasm rocked your body. stars studded the corners of your vision as your muscles tensed.

mingi fingered you through your orgasm, cooing sweetly into your ear as you rode your high. "you're so beautiful, all for me. all mine. you belong to me."

he didn't give you much time to recuperate from your previous orgasm before he was doffing his pants and sliding his own boxers down his thighs. with how hard he was, you could only imagine the restraint he was using before.

nothing could have prepared you to see that mingi was well endowed. you were grateful for him opening you up earlier, as you were unsure if he'd fit at all. you weren't clueless when it came to sex, but none of your previous partners were quite as big as be was.

he turned to grab a throw pillow off of the couch, motioning for you to bridge your hips. once you did, he slid the pillow beneath you. "there you go." he squeezes your bare thigh in reassurance.

your skin was warm and damp from the exertion from your previous orgasm. your pussy ached to be filled again, and you could only press your legs farther apart as mingi grasped the base of his cock and dragged his tip between your drenched folds. you shiver under his touch, especially when the head of his cock teased your hole.

mingi knew he was on borrowed time. he wanted to get inside of you before he went off like a shotgun, seeing how turned on he was from watching you come undone all over his fingers; yet, he wanted to savor the moment as long as he could. he wasn't quite convinced that this wasn't another wet dream of his. to wake up now would be so unbelievably cruel.

he eased himself into you, eyes oscillating between your pussy and your face. above all else, your safety was his main priority. every cry and whimper was a sign for him to stop, and wait until you gave a signal that you had acclimated to him stretching you out. eventually, he hit the hilt of his cock. his hips pressed against yours as he leaned forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it and watching as it snapped back into place. from here, you realized how beautiful that mingi truly was. his bone structure and perfectly pouty lips, and eyes that could pierce right through you.

those pouty lips were drawn into a soft smirk when you pulled away from the kiss. you nodded and shifted your hips, giving mingi the go-head to start moving.

his movements were slow and careful. his honeyed gaze boring a hole straight through you as he watched you take every inch of him. you sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, but soon the pain dissolved into wanton pleasure and need. you wrapped your legs around him as his tempo began to increase, motivating mingi to speed up.

soon, the only sounds that filled the apartment was skin against skin, and how when he angled his hips just right, turned your individual moans into high pitched whines.

mingi straightened his posture, only to grab your hips and pull you into each thrust that he delivered to you. he was desperate to feel you, desperate to get your walls to remember the shape of him. his eyebrows were knitted together with focus. a bead of sweat trailed from his forehead to his jaw.

"gonna split you in half if i have to," he muttered between heavy pants. "you're mine, y/n."

you had clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle the cries and moans that tumbled from your lips. you were sure that you'd get a noise complaint from the apartment complex tomorrow. the way mingi had you positioned made it so that with every stroke of his dick, he was ramming right into your g-spot. you blinked away tears that threatened to spill as you took what he gave you.

"do you hear me? mine." he was starting to get sloppy as he neared his own orgasm. he pressed your thighs up against your chest as he drilled into you, chasing his own orgasm. "fuck- mine. mine, mine, mine." he chanted the word like it was a mantra.

your core was tightening in another climax.

"mingi... please- i'm yours—.." you mumbled between whines and hiccups. "'m gonna cum,"

mingi's hand returned to your belly, pressing into it and earning a yelp from you. feeling his cock as it fucked you open was overstimulating. all you could manage to do was whimper and writhe beneath him.

"are you going to cum all over– fuck..– this dick? cum for me, pretty girl."

as soon as you tipped over the edge with your own orgasm, mingi's followed suit. his whole body stiffened as he came, a shiver wracking his spine as a pinched moan escaped him. your head was still swimming with pleasure as mingi stuffed you full of his seed.

you both sat still for a few moments following, the two of you catching your breaths. mingi eventually slides out of you, leaving you feeling oddly void inside. he stood, and your gaze followed him as he disappeared into the back of your apartment. once he came back, he had fixed his clothes to cover himself once again. he was carrying a warm washcloth that he used to help you wipe yourself clean.

he joined you in the floor again, laying on his side so that his torso was pressed against your side. he peppered gentle kisses along the side of your face, carefully brushing strands of hair back into place. your body was heavy, and your eyes were half lidded from physical expenditure that took place. you turned to snuggle into mingi's chest, draping an arm over his side.

"mingi." you decided to break the silence, not yet leaving the cover of his chest to meet his eyes.

"yes, y/n?"

"i love you, too. so much. forever." the confession felt natural on your tongue. only then did you decide to tilt your head back to look at him. he wore a goofy smile on his face, now wearing his own flush on his cheeks at your revelation.

"forever." mingi echoed, drawing you into his embrace once more. you welcomed his warmth. when you nuzzled your face into him, his scent wrapped around you.

you could get used to this.

#atz #song mingi #mingi atz #ateez #ateez fanfic #mingi fanfic #atz smut #ateez smut #mingi smut #mingi #mingi ateez #ateez mingi #18+ mdni #mdni #seonghwa smut #seonghwa ateez #san smut #san ateez #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung smut #jeong yunho #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Rain Therapy | Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It's a line that you and Bucky just can't seem to break, but it's nothing one of Tony's infamous parties can't fix.

A/N: Another fluffy one for me, which is still something I'm growing used to writing. I'm getting anxious for some angst, so ask me for some and I'll see what I can do!

Warnings: two idiots in love, slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, language, allusions to smutty content, jealous Bucky

Word Count: 7,206

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

The whisper of lightning, the promise of thunder, the answer of rain. The sky darkens and the sun is forgotten, casting a gloomy light on the earth below.

And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, I find it to be a chemical mixture for peace.

“Y/N, Y/N what the hell are you doing out there?”

That illusion of peace shatters, and I let out low groan, keeping my eyes shut as the raindrops fall down on my form outstretched on the pavement.

“I was having a peaceful moment of bliss until someone decided now was an opportune time to bother me,” I call back.

“An opportune time to-” I hear him cut off incredulously, muttering something to himself as heavy, booted feet slosh through the rain to reach me, “Get off the damn driveway, doll. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth,” I respond, staying pleasantly where I lay right in front of the Avengers Compound.

“Myth my ass, now get up and inside before I throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”

I click my tongue, not having to open my eyes to know my best friend is standing right beside me, “So much violence, so much language. You should join me, some inner peace would do you good.”

Thunder cracks above, rumbling through the earth and into my bones. Even though I don’t hear his steps moving away, Bucky goes silent beside me. I begin to think he’s taking me up on my offer of a little rain therapy.

“See,” I sigh into the cacophony of nature, “Isn’t that peaceful? Maybe-”

I don’t even have time to react when a pair of strong arms, one of them freezing cold due to the metal in the rain, grab my waist and lift me clear off the floor. My eyes snap open with a jolt as I see myself being thrown over Bucky’s shoulder just like he promised.

“What the-” I stop myself as he secures me with his arm dangerously near my ass and slap his broad, muscular back, “You little bitch!”

“A little bitch who’s gonna keep you from getting a cold,” Bucky responds, and I can hear the smugness in his tone from back here, “Is the rain still peaceful?”

“No, there’s a jackass who got in the way.”

I feel his body rumble with laughter, feel the noise pass through my body and make my heart tumble in its cage. With that, his arm edging near a zone that’s clearly more than friends, and the sight of his wet t-shirt stuck to his back, I feel the anger flood from my body. Instead, I find myself thinking about what his abs look like with his rain-soaked shirt pressed against them.

Damn it, I’ve really got it bad.

I try my hardest to shove the image from my mind, but it only sticks harder and makes the spot where Bucky’s hand rests burn. I notice his metal hand on the other side, rain dripping off of it, and I can’t help but let my mind trace to-

I halt my thinking abruptly. He’s your best friend, he’s your best friend, he’s your best friend.

He’s my unfairly hot, broody, and annoyingly heart-fluttering best friend

With his free hand, Bucky shoves open the front doors to the Avenger’s Compound, walking a few steps until we enter one of the large, high-ceiling living areas where a television blasts a movie.

“I told you,” Tony announces after the group of my friends and teammates sees Bucky walking in with me on his shoulder, “Sam, you owe me five bucks.”

“Put me down, terminator,” I grunt, to which Bucky finally sets me on my feet.

Immediately I go to hit him, but the sudden change in my body’s gravity sends me off balance slightly. I stumble back slightly, trying to make the blood rush from my head so I can balance again.

“Woah, careful there, Bambi,” Bucky laughs, gripping onto my waist to help steady me.

Where his hands touch, metal and skin alike, my skin sets on fire. The radiating electricity from his touch only annoys me further and I shove out of his hands, swatting his chest.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and holding a finger in his face like a scolding parent, “Next time you manhandle me, I’m going to remove your arm like Ayo showed me.”

Bucky smirks at me coolly and says something, but I miss it because my eyes drop down to where his t-shirt sticks to his abs from the rain. Just like I imagined it would, it makes my mouth go dry and my heartbeat miss a step.

“See something you like?” Bucky taunts.

Cheeks flushed, I look up at him calmly and smile, “Just thinking about what a shame a body like that is wasted on the grumpiest man alive.”

The group of Avengers lounging around the various chairs and couches in the living room snicker, their attention drawn from the television. He lifts an eyebrow at me and those infuriating steel blue eyes ricochet my pulse.

“Sure you were.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, turning and looking at team, “Who bet against me?”

Tony, Bruce, Wanda, and Nat lifts their hands and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest in feigned hurt.

“Traitors,” I grumble, not being able to stop the smile that wants to twitch onto my lips as Bucky walks up beside me and rests his arm on my shoulder.

“They bet right, didn’t they?”

I look up at him with the half-smile I wasn’t able to stop, “Screw you,”

I turn around and leave the living room, making my way towards my room so I can shower and change. From behind me, I hear Bucky’s laugh that sears itself into my memory.

“Love you too, doll!” He calls out, and my heart launches into my throat.

He doesn’t mean it like I want him to, not like how I mean it. Not like how I've meant it for months.

As I finally get to the confines of my bedroom, I shut to the door and let out a trembling breath. I keep my back pressed to the door for a moment, leaning my head against it and forcing myself to forget the way his hands felt, to strike from my memory the beauty of his laugh. When I finally peel off my wet clothes and step into a scalding hot shower, I let the water and steam surround me long after I'm already clean.

I'm a coward, a coward and a fool for falling for my best friend and not being able to say a word to him about it.

Long after I'm out of the shower and cuddled up with a book on my bed, a knock sounds on my door. I've barely glanced up at it in confusion when Natasha's voice calls out, "I know you're probably reading a book but put it down and let me in unless you want me to break down the door."

A half-smile tugs onto my lips and I set my book aside, untangling myself from my covers and opening the door for my friend. She gives me a smug smile and waltzes in, plopping down on my bed. I can't help but shake my head at her as she makes herself at home.

"Why are all of my friends so violent?" I taunt, sitting down next to her.

"Most of us are trained assassins." Nat gives me a playful nudge, already lifting my spirits from the gloom and doom they were resting in. Her knowing gaze immediately notifies me that I can't escape the conversation to come, so I don't even bother to skirt around it.

"Why does my life suck?" I groan, dropping down onto my back dramatically. Nat laughs beside me, shaking her head down at me.

"So many questions tonight," She remarks, following the words with a tired sigh and laying down beside me. As we both stare up at my ceiling, my mind is held captive by one person. Both it and my heart have been held hostage and I'm starting to understand the truth in Stockholm Syndrome.

"You know, and brace yourself because this is gonna blow your mind, you could just tell him how you feel," Nat advises.

"And risk ruining everything that we already have?" I reply, my brows creased in an ever-present state of worry, "I could live with being friends with him forever as long as it meant I still had him in my life. But if I tell him how I feel and it changes everything to the point where he can't even be around me?"

I take a charged pause, startled by the sudden rise of emotion. I swallow down the burning pain, but ultimately I decide to go easy on my breaking heart. The poor thing doesn't know any better. All it knows is that it wants Bucky Barnes and I keep locking it and its desires into a cage of bones in my chest.

"A life without him...I couldn't live like that."

Nat sits up beside me, catching my attention in time to see the sympathy flashing across her features, "Y/N, I know it's scary but if you'd just trust me I think the outcome would surprise you."

She can tell that I'm still not convinced, so in a last ditch effort to rally me from my slumber of inaction, she reaches across me and grabs the book I was reading. I sit up, a protest just starting on my tongue as I reach for it. She pulls it out of my reach and holds it in front of her chest, displaying the cover for me to see.

"Do any of the characters in these books ever fare well from denying their passions?" Nat asks, and I find that she has me in a figurative corner, "Do their stories end well when they decide, 'Nah, I'm too scared to tell him I love him'?"

"I don't love him," I protest, but the lie is sour on my tongue and allergic to my soul. It gets rejected so quickly by everything within me that I almost think I'll have a physical reaction to it.

"Bullshit." Nat challenges, setting the book aside and grabbing my hands. I shake my head, trying to escape her arguments that my heart jumps in agreement with.

It's a brutal thing, to have your heart yearn for one thing and your mind so resolutely against it. I've always thought it strange how the dichotomy of desires could root in a person, but it makes sense in a way. The heart is led by our passions, our intuitive cravings. The mind is hardwired by nature and instinct to protect us, to propel our survivals.

Even if that means our passions must be slaughtered.

I'm keeping my mind in charge by sheer will that's hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff. My will only has a few fingers left to hold with, and I can feel it slipping every day Bucky's near me, every time his skin brushes mine, every time he simply is.

“I need to move on,” I almost desperately announce, gripping handfuls of my sweatshirt to keep from crying, “I need a way to move or this is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.”

Sympathetic to my distress, Natasha lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “You know, with Tony’s Semi-Annual Charity Gala coming up this weekend it’s the perfect time to move on.”

I perk up slightly, the thought breaking a sliver of hope in the pit of despair and self-pity I allow to well up. For an Avenger, I sure know how to wallow in pain.

“…or make a move on a certain super soldier.” Nat continues.

“Don’t be silly, I’d never steal Steve away from you,” I jest, my tone wavering but stronger than before. Nat rolls her eyes from beside me before shoving my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally meet my friend’s gaze, “One last chance. One chance and then I’m putting myself out of my misery”

That’s so easily said. The unspoken truth is that my poor heart doesn’t stand a chance. It hasn’t for a long time.

“Great!” Nat smiles, squeezing me into a side hug on the bed, “I’ll start planning your outfit now!”

And with that, she’s off my bed and into my closet. As we spend the better part of the night deciding on what to wear to the upcoming gala, I can’t help but let my mind stray to its usual focus. With a groan of exhaustion, I drop my head into my hands and tell myself that same lie.

“He’s my best friend. That’s all.”

It’s getting harder and harder to believe.

|||

A few days later

It's been a few days since the rain incident, and I've finally managed to garner a moment alone from everyone. It's not that I don't love being around them, but it taxes me more than I care to admit to be around him.

A forlorn sigh brushes past my lips, but as I nestle down on the floor in the library Tony had put into the Compound, I find my worries drifting away. Instead, they're replaced with the story in the pages, rapturing my attention and distracting my mind.

That is, until the door opens and I feel his presence before I see or hear him.

"There you are, doll. I've been looking for you all day," Bucky calls, his deep, smooth voice cascading into my very soul. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to not let it show on my face how jarring it was to be snapped from the book to the person I've been trying to avoid.

"You've been looking for me?" I ask, managing to make my voice seem calm and pleasant. He approaches where I'm sitting on the floor, a breath-stealing smile tugging at his lips.

"Course I have, I haven't seen you in days," He replies, his face the picture of relaxed calm, drawing a fierce dichotomy to the barely-veiled confliction on my own. Bucky takes a moment, surveying me sitting on the floor amidst all of the chairs and couches available. He lifts an amused brow at me.

"Why are you on the floor?"

I can't stop myself from smiling up at him and all control I had in keeping myself away from him disintegrates, "It's more comfortable to me. Are you judging me Barnes?"

His laugh bursts light into the depths of me, and as I watch his face relax I can't help but look on in awe at how far he's come. When he first joined the team, he was withdrawn and quiet and even grumpier than he is now. He never smiled, never laughed, and barely spoke. Now, of course he's adorably grumpy most of the time, but he smiles and laughs. He enjoys life, and he more than anyone else in this world deserves to enjoy life.

"What're you reading?" Bucky asks, and I try to ignore the way my pulse rockets up when he settles down beside me on the floor.

He stretches out his long legs, keeping the one furthest from me bent and resting his arm on top it. His other leg is stretched out and nearly touching my own. To help balance his weight, he settles the hand closest to me, his metal hand, onto a spot on the floor behind my back. The position makes his chest brush against my shoulder ever so slightly and all I can feel is the burning of his presence and the searing of his gaze.

"Just some fantasy book," I reply, not wanting to bore him.

I look over at him to see his eyes already on my face, his own radiating a serene peace. He furrows his brows at my prolonged examination of his features and the ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just," My mouth has gone dry again, and I can't seem to clear the haze on my mind, "You look at peace."

"Well someone pretty incredible suggested rain therapy, which works like a charm for my grumpiness."

A laugh bubbles out of me, only widening the smile on his face. I find myself subconsciously leaning into his presence and bringing our faces closer.

"Seriously," Bucky continues, making me realize our proximity and pull back to a normal distance, "I'm always at peace around you."

My heart doesn't just miss a step, it stumbles and falls and nearly gives out in my chest. His words affect every part of me and it's a feat of pure resilience that I don't reach over and press my lips to his.

"Unless you're doing something stupid and testing my nerves," He adds on, lightening the air and making me giggle. He nods towards the almost forgotten book in my hands.

"You were going to tell me about your new read," Bucky reminds, and I smile.

I spend the next ten minutes detailing what's happening in the book, my excitement about it taking over and making me ramble on without barely taking any breaths. I occasionally look between the book and Bucky, sometimes gesturing with my hands to establish my enthusiasm.

Even when I'm not looking at him, Bucky's gaze never leaves my face.

So much for giving myself space to try and move on from him. That thought is far from my mind, though. The longer I’m near him, the closer he is, the harder it is to remember to forget him. And now, with Tony’s Gala tomorrow night, I don’t know how I’m going to move on.

Maybe I really can give this one last shot. It could break me if it goes wrong, but I have a feeling I’ll break a little regardless.

|||

The next night

Not even the pounding of the music and the chatter and clatter of hundreds of guests can drown out my racing mind.

“Stop tugging at your dress, you look great,” Natasha chides from beside me.

With a huff of anxiety, I heed her words and stop fiddling with the snug material of the one-sleeved dress. It hugs my curves down to my waist before draping elegantly to the floor, broken only by the high slit up the thigh.

“I know,” I reply, downing my second drink of the night and setting down the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with a brief smile, “I just haven’t seen him yet. He’s coming right? Tony told us all to be here, so he wouldn’t just-”

“Why does there have to be so many people here?”

My words die out at the distant but unmissable rumble of words behind me. I turn around, and my entire world seems to focus on the epicenter that is Bucky Barnes as he walks in beside Sam Wilson.

“It’s a party man, I thought you loved parties back in the day,” Sam replies, smiling at a few people as he walks in.

“Yeah well I don’t like people like I did then,” Bucky grumbles back, messing with the edges of his all-black suit that is tailored so perfectly that it hones every inch of his body.

His broad shoulders, his muscular form, his piercing blue eyes in a fierce dichotomy with the darkness of the getup…I almost trip in my heels.

“You don’t like any people? That breaks my heart, Barnes,” I manage out coolly, walking up to the pair with a half-smile tugging on my lips and my heart dancing with the butterflies within.

Bucky’s gaze turns from the party goers to where I walk up to them, and a part of me melts at the way a light filters into his features. His dashing smile makes my own grow before I can stop it. The way he simply stops for a moment and stares at me, as if the throngs of people around us don’t exist…

It’s more than an effort to shove my poor heart into its shackles.

“I guess you’re an exception, doll,” He amends, and Sam rolls his eyes beside Bucky as they stop before me.

“It’s not like I’m right here,” Sam announces, making me giggle slightly and look to him.

“Hey Sam, good to see you,” I greet, walking over and hugging the man. He hugs me back, smiling brightly.

“Good to see you too,” Sam responds, his eyes catching on something over my shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are some fans who need me.”

I laugh as I watch him walk over and greet a group of women by the bar. When I turn back to Bucky, I shove down my nerves and shake my head as I pull him into a hug.

“You look incredible, Buck,” I announce, trying to ignore the rightness of his body against mine as he pulls me into a hug that lasts a moment more than I should have let it.

“Y/N,” he deadpans, pulling back but leaving his arms on my waist to admire me. His eyes sparkle with something akin to awe that makes hope rise in my chest, “You put me and everyone else in this room to shame.”

“You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror,” I remark, desperately trying to not show all over my face how beautiful he is.

Bucky just smiles. He looks at me and he smiles and I am undone.

My eyes catch on Natasha over Bucky’s shoulder as she mingles in the background of the party. When our gazes meet she gestures to Bucky with a hand, mounting the words ‘Come on’ as she does. Nodding back to her, I remember the conversation we had a few days ago and right before we joined the gala. I have to be bold and make a move, take a chance before I lose the ability to do so.

“So,” I turn back to Bucky, smiling knowingly up at him, “How’re you doing with the whole party thing?”

Bucky takes in a breath, nodding his head slightly as he surveys the party scene around us. Drinks are flowing, laughs rising, and music is permeating through every sector of the Avengers Compound. The floor shakes with the base and the clattering of shoes as he looks back to me, “Oh you know, just fantastic.”

“Is that so?” I taunt, almost laughing at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. He shoots me a grumpy glare that finally unleashes my laugh. At the sound, Bucky’s features soften and a smile touches his lips. I notice this and furrow my brows up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, just holding that’s soft smile in his eyes that makes me almost forget the track of the conversation. When I snap myself from my daze, I gasp.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, holding my clutch up and opening it to find what I stashed earlier, “I know how you are with parties like this and all so I thought that this might help make it a better memory.”

“You got me a gift?” Bucky asks, shaking his head at me with furrowed brows, “You should have told me, I would’ve gotten you something too!”

I shake my head, finally finding what I’m looking for and glancing up at Bucky, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

With a bright smile to cover my pounding, anxious heart, I hold out the small book in my hands. Bucky glances down at the gift I hold out, and I watch his body go still. Anticipation dances in my belly as he ever so gently reaches out and takes the old, fading The Hobbit novel into his hands.

“It’s a first edition, don’t ask me how I found it,” I inform, playing with the fabric of my dress to give my now empty hands something to do, “I know how much you loved it and now when you’re watching me read in the library, you can read too.”

My words ring out between us, and yet Bucky barely moves. Just when I’m beginning to grow nervous, my heart melts into a puddle in my chest when he lifts his steel-eyed gaze to me. I’ve never seen him cry before, but here and now I can see the lining of unshed tears in his gaze.

“Buck-"

He closes the distance between us, pulling me so close to him that there’s no room for separation. I melt into the hug, becoming nothing more than an extension of his body. There’s no him. There’s no me. There’s only us as we’re suspended in time, caught in this moment.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles, not moving back an inch and letting his voice cascade over my neck and down my spine, “You don’t know what this means to me.”

Reluctantly, I pull back. Every part of me shouts in protest, but I know we have to separate as some point. I give him a soft smile, trying to ignore the noose that’s slowly tightening around my heart. I’m a goner. I have no chance of recovery.

“Don’t mention it,”

Bucky stares at me for another moment, the charged silence soon taking on an anticipated feel. We’re both waiting for the other to make the first move, I can sense it. I see Nat nudge me from afar again and decide to finally muster up my courage and stop waiting. I notice Bucky shakes his head at something, mumbling something to himself, but I press on.

“Hey, do you wanna da-”

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Bucky bursts out at almost the same instant, making me cut off my sentence quickly.

A drink? He’s going to get a drink right now, as soon as I was about to ask him to dance? I know he didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still stings like one.

“Oh, uh yeah sure. That’s-”

Before I can even finish speaking, Bucky has darted away desperately towards the bar at the North side of the room near Sam. I stand dumbfounded, my heart slowly sinking. This is going to be much harder than I thought.

|||

It's been nearly an hour and a half and Bucky is still managing to be everywhere that I am not.

I can take a hint. Even if that hint shatters my soul a little.

As I watch the super soldier mingle with some of the guests, a polite and slightly annoyed smile on his face, I feel something snap within my chest. Here I am, lounging pathetically at the bar all alone, and there he is, my best friend who I can't seem to fall out of love with. His strong jaw and steel eyes don't dare to turn in my direction, and I feel my fracturing soul crack even more.

I have to let it go. I have to let it go. I have to let him go.

With a long sigh, I pick up the drink before me and down its contents, letting the burn soothe away the edge of the crawling pain in my chest. Once the glass is slammed back down on the bar counter, I steel my nerves and stand.

It's time I stop feeling sorry for myself and move on.

My eyes scan the thick crowd scattered throughout every inch of Tony's gala. Music radiates through every molecule of air, and just one glance at the dance floor has my feet moving before my brain is. As I walk over to the dance floor, I see a random guy standing with a few others. He's cute enough with a charming smile, so I grab his arm as I walk past, making him glance over at me. I flash him my best smile and tug him towards the dance floor.

"Dance with me?" I ask boldly, and his smile widens.

"I'd be honored," He replies, letting me pull him onto the dance floor.

I should let myself be whisked away into the music and the movements and the feel of his hands on my hips as we dance. I should let the base and the crowd and the charming man before me wipe away every thought, but I just...can't. All I can think about when his hands slide gently on my waist is how different it feels when those hands are Bucky's. My heart is crushing slowly, and so I do everything I can to forget it.

It's actually beginning to work until the music abruptly cuts out.

Groans and boo's arise from the crowd with me on the dance floor as we all look around, trying to figure out why the music's stopped. "That's so weird," The nice guy I'm dancing with mumbles. I mention my agreement, my eyes sweeping the edges of the party before I catch a glint of dark metal. My eyes fly back to the metal only to see Bucky storming away from the sound booth, his metal fist clenched so hard that I'm surprised it doesn't malfunction. In his metal grasp is a hunk of wires, and my stomach drops.

He did not.

"Don't worry folks! I'll have the music back up in no time," Tony announces, flashing his winning smile to the crowd as he jogs to the sound booth, "There was a slight malfunction"

I see him shoot Bucky a glare, but true to his words the music is back up in a matter of minutes. I feel anger begin to make my blood boil and I pull away from the guy I was dancing with. I see a frown pull onto his face as he lets me go but follows me a few steps.

"Are you okay?" He calls after me, and my heart twists in sympathy. I must look absolutely furious and he probably thinks it's pointed at him. So, I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm alright, thanks for the dance. I needed it," I comment, before turning and continuing my beeline for the brooding super soldier in the corner. He's standing with Sam, muttering something that I can't hear as I finally break through the crowd and walk up to them.

"Here we go," Sam mumbles, slowly backing away as I come to a stop in front of Bucky.

"What the hell, James?" I grit out.

"Oh she used the first name," Sam comments, his eyes widening, "I'm going to go check on Steve."

Then he leaves, and it's just Bucky and I. Bucky just shrugs, not meeting my furious gaze.

"I don't know what you're so mad about but-"

"Oh really? So you didn't just rip out the sound system?" I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest. He finally turns and meets my gaze, and damn it all I can't stop the swooning of my heart at the dark, rugged look on his face.

I'm angry, I remind myself. I'm angry with him.

"What does that have to do with you, sweetheart?"

I scoff, shaking my head at him, "You are unbelievable! I was finally starting to have a good night and-"

"Dancing with that handsy prick makes your night a good night then?" He interrupts, and I have to fight to keep the smug look off of my face at catching him.

"What were you saying about this having nothing to do with me?" I fire back, lifting an eyebrow. Bucky clenches his jaw and takes a step closer to me, probably expecting me to back off. I don't. Instead, I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, trying and failing to seem taller than him.

"I don't like you dancing with other men like that," Bucky informs, his voice dark. He's so close to me that his whiskey and pine scent invades my senses, threatening to empty my head of the argument at hand.

"I can dance with whoever the hell I want, Barnes. And since certain people made it very clear they didn't want to dance with me, then certain people should have no say in who I dance with"

"I don't dance, Y/N." His eyes are cool fire and they sear right through me. Even in this heated argument, all I can seem to think about is how badly I want him, body and soul. My thoughts are banished when he spits his next words out, "Not with you, not with anyone."

It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. So why do I have to fight to keep the hurt off of my face?

Just like that, the fire in my argument is gone. I nod, taking a few steps back, "Okay, that's all you had to say."

And then I turn around and leave before he can see the tears welling in my gaze.

I force myself into the crowd, making sure I move quickly and weave myself between those around me to get away as fast as possible. Then, with my heart in my throat, I finally make it to the outskirts of the party where a glass sliding door leads out into a training field. Through the glass, I can see rain pouring down into the dark, almost moonless night.

Seeing it unravels a bit of the pain within my chest, and I don't even think as I slip off my heels and walk outside. I shut the door behind me, muting the sounds of the party and leaving the downpour of rain and the distant rumble of thunder to take over my senses. I set my heels down carefully and walk out into the field, barely jumping when the cool, refreshing droplets begin to pound into my skin. It's not long before I'm soaked and my entire outfit is ruined. I don't mind, though. I'm not planning on going back there anyways.

I sit down in the grass, not even minding how it dirties my dress, and hug my knees close. When I slip my eyes shut, I'm reminded why I love the rain so much.

In moments like this, I can't distinguish my tears from the rain

I don't know how long I sit like this, my eyes shut and the rain drenching me. Eventually, my body stops shaking from the sobs that have now subsided and any evidence of my breakdown has been washed away. I'm almost at peace when I hear that voice, that stupid, addicting voice, ring out behind me through the storm.

"I'd say you'll catch a cold, but I don't think you'd care much"

I swallow hard, cursing my heart for the way it jumps. I open my eyes, but keep my gaze firmly forward across the training field.

"Especially since it's coming from you," I add on, grateful for the lack of tremor in my words.

"I guess I deserved that one," Bucky concedes softly, his voice getting closer. My body begins to shiver with the anticipation of him being close, the response purely visceral and out of my control. I just hope he thinks it's from the rain.

"You think?" I scoff lightly, not having the strength to be angry anymore.

It's silent for a long while, and I almost begin to think that he's left and gone back inside. I'm proven otherwise when I see Bucky walk out from behind me, standing right in front of where I sit with my knees drawn to my chest. Against my better judgement, I look up.

And there he is, drenched like I am and an unreadable look upon his stupidly handsome face.

"Bucky-"

He extends out his human hand, and my words die, "Dance with me."

Every part of my heart beams, and it’s an effort to keep the fluttering of my heart out of my body language. I pause for a moment, almost as if to give him time to retract his hand. When he doesn’t, I hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” I whisper. His half-smile grows as he looks down at me with what almost looks like…adoration.

“I don’t,” Bucky confirms, his voice like sugar and pine, “But for you I’d do anything”

I can’t even try to hide the visceral effect his words have on me. With a thousand butterflies batting in my stomach and my heart beating viscously out of rhythm, I allow a small smile to grow on my lips. A new excitement in my chest, I reach up and slip my hand into his large, rough one calloused with work and time. It fits mine perfectly, as always, and his touch muddles my senses and wakes me up all at once, as always.

As he helps me stand, the rain still pouring down on us, he tugs me close to him so suddenly that I stumble right into his chest. A small laugh escapes my lips as I catch myself on his broad chest. Bucky’s so close, so warm, so intoxicating to me that every fiber of my being yearns for his proximity. I’m nothing but a firing hum of nerves and sparks being this close to him, with a hand on his chest and his arm secured around my waist.

And we dance.

There’s no music, there’s no reason. We just dance. Bucky’s magnificent at it, every step dripping in ease and cool confidence that only makes me love him more. I’m so caught in the moment that every thought of a reciprocated or unrequited love has been banished from my mind. All that exists is here and now, underneath the downpour of the heavens with the cacophony of nature as our song.

He twirls me around, making water splash up and a giggle bubble out of me when I slip and fall directly into him. His body rumbles with low laughter when he catches me stopping my fall. Bucky doesn’t even have to say a word for me to know he’s making fun of me, so I slap his chest with a huff of laughter.

“What?” Bucky’s amused voice is the harmony to the melody of the rain.

“I can feel your judgement from here,” I point out, but before I can raise my lightened gaze to meet his on my own, a metal hand hooks under my chin and gently turns my face up until our eyes clash.

Suddenly, I’m not so humored anymore.

Neither is he, I can tell. The air is different—still light with joy but now corded with something deep, rich, and intangible. His piercing blue eyes seem to be burdened with a million different thoughts, but I can barely bring myself to breathe let alone ask him what is going through his beautiful mind.

Bucky doesn’t say a single word, though. He doesn’t have to. My eyes glance down to his lips for no more than one half of a second, and by the time I’ve returned my gaze to his, he’s closing to distance between us and connecting his lips to mine.

I’ve never understood what is so special about kissing in the rain. I get it now. There’s something so dichotomously beautiful in this moment, in the cold, relentless rain and the desperate, burning heat of Bucky’s lips moving against my own.

Again, no words are needed for us both to understand. This kiss is everything that has been bottling up over our friendship. It’s every quiet moment in the library and loud moment in our arguments. As his hands tug me closer and ignite my skin as if it were burning clean off, as his lips and tongue move with mine, every thought and worry and tear-filled, longing night washes away. The very thought makes me sigh into the kiss, and finally we break apart only for the need for air.

Bucky doesn’t let me pull away an inch.

His arms keep my locked close, his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath. He nudged my nose with his before pulling away only enough to meet my gaze. One hand of his cradles my jaw, his thumb running lazy circles on my cheek.

“Does this mean you like me?” I whisper, a humored glint already lighting my gaze. Bucky laughs roughly, his voice sending shivers down my spine that don't go unnoticed. Rather, the other hand he keeps on my waist lifts to absently trace the path of the shiver, almost making my knees go weak.

“I more than like you,” Bucky quips, a content smile taking over his features. My heart misses a step and I don’t dare to dream.

“You really like me?” I taunt, and another heart-warming laugh pours from those perfect lips.

“You’re gonna make me say it, doll?”

I swallow thickly, my eyes not leaving his. I don’t dare to say another word, leaving the challenge up to him. Bucky sighs, moving the hand he keeps on my spine to cradle the other side of my face, now cupping it in his full grasp. He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back enough to where his lips still graze mine as he speaks.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have. Always will.”

My knees nearly go weak, and suddenly I'm so very grateful for the rain's ability to hide what is a drop and what is a tear. I'd never hear the end of it from him if he knew that's what his confession brought me to. When one of thumbs catches a stray tear, though, I know he's fully aware.

"I love you too, Buck."

Bucky smirks before me, bringing his mouth close to my ear and sending another shiver racing down my spine, "I figured that much out, sweetheart"

"Oh whatever!" I announce, hitting his shoulder but leaning in closer to his mouth that now trails from my jaw back to my lips. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips before holding me close to his chest and looking up into the sky that downpours upon us.

"Rain therapy, I guess it really does work," Bucky remarks.

"I would say I told you so, but-" I'm cut off by Bucky suddenly grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Bucky calls up to me, spinning me slightly and only making me giggle louder.

"Bucky, I'm in a dress!" I protest. He slaps my ass smugly and begins to walk with me still over his shoulder back to the compound.

"I know, let's get you out of that"

As my laugh tumbles out of my mouth, it twirls and dances and gets lost with the pounding of the rain and the rolling of the thunder. Once again, I'm in the debt of the rain, and I can't help but smile at it gratefully as my best friend and the love of my life walks triumphantly with me over his shoulder into the midst of Tony's nice party. Neither of us care about the looks we receive, though. Neither of us even notices.

All we see is the rain and each other.

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #angst #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[reds-writings]

rust cohle headcanons

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: here's some more rust brain rot on my behalf <3 feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: implications of sex, light cursing, etc. let me know if i missed anything! (minors shoo!)

word count: roughly 1k

-----

adding to the headcanon floating around of him being an acts of service type man through and through. yes, he can go on neverending tangents but sometimes words about his more sentimental/mushy feelings are better demonstrated by him being at your near beck and call whenever you’re in need

you don’t even have to directly ask him to do anything. it’s more like if you were to mention offhand that something in your car didn’t sound right or your fence needed some redoing they’d find themselves fixed within the coming days without so much as another word 

that man is crafty and i cannot be convinced otherwise! the little beer can people he made are just a small example of what he can do with his hands. one day in town you saw a beautiful chestnut dining table but it was just a tad out of your price range so you figured you’d save up a little more for it and get it the next time you stopped by 

rust had some downtime (more like made downtime during his bouts of extreme insomnia) and got to building. it was a while after and by that time you had long forgotten about the table you saw until one day you got home from work only to find an ornately designed table in your dining room. it was a bit different than the one you’d spotted at the shop but no less beautiful. in fact it was even more gorgeous with its polished shine and intricate details 

you had searched for a note or maybe even a sign left anywhere of the maker that it came from to then spot a neatly carved ‘RC’ underneath one of the tabletop’s lefthand corners 

your fingers grazed over the simple set of initials as your brain damn near short-circuited at the fact that this man built you a damn table. with his bare hands. rust cohle saw that you liked a table and decided to just make it himself

you’d made your way to the receiver on your wall after snapping out of your disbelief and rang him up

“You built me a table.” You said it more as a statement than a question instead of a normal greeting.

“I did.” His tone held no sense of pride or smugness at your shock. As if this were no big deal at all.

“You built me a table. When did you have time to build me a whole table? In fact, when’d you start bein’ able make tables in the first place-”

“D’ya like it?” He interjected in that lackadaisical way of his and you paused. 

“...I love it.” 

“Good.” 

“Well, I guess then it’d only be fair for me to invite you over for dinner so that we may put this lovely new table to good use. As thanks of course.” 

You heard him huff in fond amusement on the other line, “Yes, ma’am.” 

y’all put that table to good use alright 

he’s more of a grappler than a cuddler when it comes to sharing a bed

he holds you as if in need of tethering himself. it was as if he were to let go somehow this wouldn’t be real and your presence would flit away should he loosen his grip at any given moment 

if you get too hot in the night any point of minimal contact was still initiated like tangling your foot with his or linking pinkies just so he knew you were nearby (this happens longer down the line in your relationship when he feels a bit more comfortable having someone in his space a bit more constantly) 

quality time together isn’t necessarily always spent doing something totally stimulating or exciting 

it could be as simple as cooking dinner together or curling up on your sofa while he reads and you watch something soapy on television 

he’s a very private man so going out to do something super couple-y isn’t really up his alley. he won’t really ever deny you if you wanted to really switch it up and go to places like bars, the movies, fancy restaurants, etc. he’d just find himself more reserved in more public spaces but no less completely and utterly focused on you

he’s not much of a dancer but don’t get it twisted. his ass can dance. the man is from Texas so you best believe he has more than a few line-dancing routines ingrained in the depths of his mind

on the very few occasions you’ve gotten him to agree to dance with you when you’re out you nearly laugh every time with how seriously he takes it 

you find yourself cooking food for him often. not that he ever expects it of you but living off of cigarettes and beer can only do so much for a guy. he genuinely forgets that his body needs a meal when he gets all caught up in his work (you don’t bother nagging at him much because he’s grown and more stubborn than anything at times) 

if you aren’t available to check in on him you’re not above making Marty grab something for him when they’re stuck at work 

any kiss he gives you is not one made in passing. anything rust does has some level of deep intent behind it but he never kisses you or says ‘i love you’ out of routine or empty habit

he’s a deeply feeling guy and a lot more handsier the longer you’re together (usually still only in the privacy of your own home). it goes back to just having to feel tethered or connected to you! it comforts the more broken/scared bits of him knowing that you’re just there and present and real

his synesthesia can make things overwhelmingly intense so sometimes when you’re out or after certain activities he finds himself in need of longer moments to himself (which you never take personally) 

in less serious moments you find yourself asking him the dumbest questions you can about smelling colors or tasting places 

“So does that mean Marty’s got a taste to him? You've tasted your coworker?” You snickered as you lay beneath the weeping willow in your front yard with him.

“It don’t work like that.” He said around the unlit cigarette in this mouth, tone sounding as if he were entertaining a silly child. 

“Nuh-uh! You said somethin’ awhile back about my presence tastin’ like jasmine and clementines or somethin’-”

“Drop it.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek trying not to giggle. 

“I bet you Marty tastes like stale coffee and I dunno…regret-” You snapped out a surprised laugh as you felt a quick pinch on your side. 

#rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #true detective season 1 #matthew mcconaughey #true detective imagine #rust cohle headcanons #rust cohle #reds-writings

[takami-takami]

I Think I Love You.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. fluff.

warnings— gn!reader. keigo is in denial. tooth rotting fluff.

It takes Keigo eons to realize that he loves you.

As intelligent as he is, for every intuitive observation that turns the tides of his hero missions, he isn't the best at analyzing his own feelings. He prefers to put his emotions in a box, to scribble a smile on the lid, lock it with the heaviest brass he can find, and call it a day.

He's handling everything perfectly, thank you very much.

But when he tries to put his friendship with you in that box, you keep opening the damn lid. You keep crawling out, perching yourself on top and blinking up at him. Frustrated, he attempts to shove you back down with frantic hands, using all his weight; but for the first time in his life, it just isn't working quite as it used to.

So after months of coughing and telling himself his chest aches around you because you're such good friends, of explaining he's obsessed with you like you're a goddamn love interest in a movie because you're just so platonically compatible, of practically scribbling your name in his notepad with little hearts around it during commission board meetings, he finally flops face first on his bed and groans.

He's got a crush.

Are crushes supposed to make you think about owning a cozy cabin somewhere quiet together, where he can listen to your breathing without any distractions? Do other men fantasize about what they'd write for their wedding vows at some flower-adorned, ivory altar when they think about their crushes? He hopes they do. Maybe then, he could write this stupid tightness in his chest away as some childish, grade-school crush. That's a lot easier to deal with than love.

Yeah, this is a crush. Everybody gets those, right? He can work with that.

It comes to a boiling point on a too-quiet Saturday evening. You're practically sitting in his lap as you watch some television show he's just a bit too distracted to follow. It's not weird that his arms wrap themselves around your front, and it's not weird that his chin finds its resting place on your right shoulder.

"Oh my god, I love this actor," you nestle back against him snugly. "He's so cute, it's not even fair."

Keigo's jaw clenches.

"Hmm. I don't see it."

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to soothe himself by analyzing the wretched actor's features. He already knows your type— he knows you so well, better than anyone could ever hope to, he seethes— but it helps to remind himself. He's blonde, lithe yet muscular, with a patch of stubble to boot.

Keigo does it better. His arms tighten around you as he places a platonic kiss on your shoulder to ground himself.

The next day, he decides to pick up an extra early patrol shift. He won't be sleeping, anyway.

If Saturday's the boiling point of the kettle that is his emotions, then Sunday's the fever pitch. The screeching whistle becomes impossible to ignore.

You slept over at his place that night— which is, again, not weird in the slightest— so he's greeted by the sight of you when he walks through the doors of his dimly lit bedroom after work.

But this time, it's not a comforting sight. His heart rate slams suddenly, nearly knocking him to his knees.

You're fussing over your appearance in the mirror, putting together the finishing touches on your look for the gala Keigo (should not have) invited you to tonight. Your jewelry clinks with your movements, echoing off the walls of his head and knocking each thought out somewhere he can't reach.

When you turn to meet his gaze, you don't mention the way his mouth is hanging open ever so slightly.

"Oh! You gonna get ready soon? We have to leave in—"

"Can I kiss you?"

The words spill from his lips before he even has a chance to cover them with his hands, to shove them back down his throat. The bubbles of regret start to well up in him, thrums of panic making him scramble to take it back. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, this isn't, he's not meant for, you're too—

You throw your arms over his shoulders as you honest to god laugh.

His hitched "mmph" when you plant your lips against him melts your heart. Shaky palms find their place against your hips, finally having the permission they've begged for all this time.

"Fucking finally," you sigh.

#hes so cuteee #felt fluffy today #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks imagine #mha imagines #bnha imagines #keigo takami comfort #hawks comfort

[pookietv]

small pause | arthurtv

requested!! an arthurtv x reader social media break up, but with a happy ending :)

hope u guys enjoyed and i loved doing this so if you have anymore requests please send them in!!

liked by arthurtv, freyanightingale and 5,278 more tagged bambinobecky

yourusername: forcing becky to take me on museum dates that she doesn't care about

bambinobecky: you stared at the paintings and i stared at your arse

↳ yourusername: sounds like a good trade tbh x

gkbarry: your haiiiiir i would kill for mine to be that thick

↳ yourusername: love you endlessly girl

sabinablair: looking gorgeous

↳ yourusername: need to see you soon! missed u like crazy x

liked by georgeclarkeey, chrismd10 and 6,839 others

arthurtv: went back to jersey for a while, sorry for the lack in uploads! wanted some time at home and with family for a bit, will be back and uploading next week :)

georgeclarkeey: come back i miss our cuddles

↳ arthurtv: you weren't supposed to tell anyone about that

arthurnfhill: looking good!

↳ arthurtv: are you flirting with me??

user1: omg him going home to feel better after the breakup, arthurxy/n heart is breaking

liked by yourusername, arthurtv and 7,208 more. tagged arthurtv

theuselesshotlinepod: had the lovely @/arthurtv on with us this week to talk UK youtube, dating, and growing up with chris md!

arthurtv: is george allowed to touch everyone like that in the workplace??

↳ maxbalegde: well we tell him not to due to HR but he just couldn't keep his hands off you x

liked by faithlouisak, taliamar and 6,302 more

yourusername: dragging the girls to come out for cocktails has become a too often occurrence (not that i'm complaining)

taliamar: ugh was so good to see you

↳ yourusername: ditto, literally have been rotting in bed so the girls was exactly what i needed

faithlouisak: ur so hot

↳ yourusername: coming from my favourite milf x

bambinobecky: what is there on this earth that cocktails can't fix?

↳ yourusername: i'll not go too deep on the main insta x

yourusername has posted on their story!

liked by yourusername, georgeclarkeey and 6,893 more

arthurtv: a silly little last min trip to greece :)

georgeclarkeey: any excuse for you to take your top off

↳ arthurtv: your mum wasn't complaining last night

arthurnfhill: literally didn't even realise you had left the flat, you're in greece?

↳ arthurtv: glad to know i'm appreciated

liked by arthurtv, bambinobecky and 6,390 others

yourusername: i went away for the weekend and thought i'd share some of the cute photos (ps: there were so many cats i loved it so much)

taliamar: literally the prettiest!! i didn't even know you were going on holiday

↳ yourusername: was a last min long weekend thing, i didn't even know i was going away until the day before lmao

username3: anyone think it looks really similar to where arthur is rn???

gkbarry: you're so hot oml

↳ yourusername: no u

bambinobecky: could have at least taken me with u

↳ yourusername: next time next time x

username1: y/n's single hot girl summer era is gonna go so hard

↳ yourusername: about that ...

↳ username2: what the fuck does she mean 'about that'????

↳ yourusername: hehe

liked by arthurtv, bambinobecky and 6,389 others tagged arthurtv

yourusername: okay so i may not have been on holiday alone

user1: oh my FUCKING god i called it

user2: mrs television is back i been waiting for thissss

georgeclarkeey: we all called it, knew it wouldn't be off for long

↳ yourusername: get lost loser

↳ georgeclarkeey: you mock but living with him in his mopey missing y/n era was no fun

arthurtv: you did me dirty with that second photo of my entire plate of beans

↳ yourusername: i mean what are you gonna do, break up with me again?

↳ arthurtv: way to kick a guy when feels guilty

↳ yourusername: being guilty is a small price to pay if it means you'll take me on holidays again :)

↳ arthurtv: i think i owe you a million holidays

↳ yourusername: i can live with that x

maxbalegde: possibly the shortest breakup i've ever seen (but i knew it wouldn't last long, arthur literally looks lost when ur not in a room let alone not in his life)

↳ yourusername: just means i'm stuck with him for good

liked by yourusername, arthurnfhill and 7,839 others

arthurtv: she only got back with me to make me take nice photos of her

yourusername: absolutely not!!! (it's also for the banging cuppas you make)

↳ arthurtv: ah, makes sense

user1: favourite couple are officially back together

#arthur frederick #arthurtv #arthur frederick x reader #arthurtv x reader #chaos crew

[diordrysdale]

after dark ⋆ andy barber (part 2)

dark!neighbor!andy barber x camgirl!reader

word count ⋆ 1.1k+

warnings ⋆ smut! minors dni, virtual sex/livestream, cheating, sexual use of a popsicle, age gap (reader in their 20s, andy in his late 40s) daddy kink, masturbation (f), degradation kink, mention of spanking, VERY SLIGHT mention of cnc play (you’ll see).

authors note ⋆ you all will definitely see andy’s dark side next chapter <3

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

PART 1

3 days earlier

“you just need to feed sprinkles three times a day, and that’s pretty much it.”

your best friend, lila, handed you her family’s cat as she rushed to gather more of her belongings and tossed them into her luggage.

“the guest room is all yours, make yourself at home!” you followed behind her as she scrambled down the stairs at the sound of her mother calling out for her.

“if our house is still intact when we come back, you’ll get paid,” lila rolled her eyes at her mother as she hugged you goodbye.

“come on, tony! we’re gonna miss the flight!” the eighteen year old boy waved goodbye to his best friend and next door neighbor, jacob barber.

“keys are on the counter top, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. love you, bye!”

present day

andy huffed as he scrubbed at the dishes, listening to his wife chat loudly on the phone while the television was blaring whatever brain-rotting reality show was trending at the moment.

he tilted his wrist to reveal the time on the apple-watch, 7:03p.m.

it was torture having to wait.

“andrew! go water the plants next door, cindy and the kids aren’t home— carol, stop!” laurie continued laughed on the phone with her friends, forcing andy to count to ten before drying his hands, although the simple act gave him a flashback.

sucking on a popsicle in nothing but your light pink lingerie, you told 60.8k of your loyal subscribers how your day went, how you were terrible bored during a job interview and could only picture yourself spreading your legs for the employer, begging him for the job as he slaps your pussy with his rough belt.

“I’m not sure if I got the job, but at least I have all of you,” you lean back into your cloud-shaped, getting comfortable in the bed you got to call yours for two weeks.

barber543 donated $250.00!

barber543: stop pouting, you make me wanna fuck that slutty mouth of yours til you’re begging me not to

your [e/c] eyes lit up at the familiar user, giddiness running through your veins as you hook your panties to the side with one hand.

“barber543, I did promise a surprise, didn’t I?” You whisper as your other hand moved the blueberry-flavored popsicle towards your sex, moving through your folds before tapping your clit.

“you choose what I call you.” sliding the cold treat inside your cunt, you whimpered at the feeling, heart racing at the notifications of subscribers screen-recording.

barber543: greedy little girl, say mr. barber

“m-mr. barber,” andy shuddered at your breathy words, “don’t fuck me with the popsicle, please.”

barber543: you better fucking take it if you want my cock, you don’t deserve it

“ah- pleaseplease, ‘s too cold-“ your words contrast against how quick you began fucking your cunt with the popsicle, clenching it around it so delicately.

barber543: harder.

“mr. barber, m’ gonna cum, feels too good-“ you choked on your words as your free hand zeroed relentlessly on your numbing clit, back arching as your hand flew out to clutch your bedsheet, leaving half of the blueberry treat in your pulsing cunt.

barber543: wish I could bend you over and slap your ass raw for cumming without my permission.

“don’t punish me, daddy,” your fucked out glance was priceless, removing the popsicle from your center and licked the tip with a breathless giggle.

andy shook his head with a idiotic grin as if he actually was face to face with the angel that you were— or pretended to be.

andy wiped his cum-tainted hand on spare napkin, before something caught his eye.

kneelforhansen donated $3000.00!

kneelforhansen: I’d love to have you for myself. direct message me if you’re interested, kitten.

andy despised the glimmer in your eyes— a look he wanted to believe only belonged to him.

“oh my, thank you,” andy could tell your soft voice was entirely genuine, and he was about to raise the amount, but he remembered than any purchased higher than a thousand would send an alert to his and laurie’s joint email account.

“you’ve made my night, mister.”

andy scowled at the memory— even if a billion people watched your stream, he liked to think you two were simply having a skype-sex session or whatever the younger people used now for video chatting.

facetime?

“hold on- andrew! the plants!” laurie shrilled, waving her hands as she pressed her phone between her ear and her shoulder.

“fucking hell.” andy mumbled, slamming a drawer into place as he made his way out of the house, glancing towards his right and analyzed the garden.

suddenly, he saw purple lights go on in one of the rooms on the second floor.

if cindy’s daughter is still home, why is he doing their chores?

he shoved his hands into his jeans, opting not to water their stupid roses and stupid hortensias and stupid—

his childish thoughts were interrupted by a sweet maserati revving carelessly into the driveway.

he’d be humiliated to admit his jaw dropped at the sight of a celebrity walking about 10 feet away.

devin peters, movie star.

“I’m outside, baby.” he sang into his phone, most likely sending a voice chat as he leaned against the goddess of a car.

the front door swung open, revealing a girl with nothing but a oversized shirt and pink panties, [h/c] hair and beaming [e/c] andy couldn’t mix up.

there was no way.

“there she is.” devin reached out his arms, engulfing you in a needy hug, guiding your legs around his narrow waist.

no. no.

“my pretty girl. how’s my kitten been?” the movie star began walking blindly to the house, mind racing on how many ways he could utterly destroy you.

“oh, crap, that’s lila’s neighbor. hold on,” you wiggled yourself away, shyly making your way towards the older man who was three seconds away from passing out from shock.

“im sure Cindy must’ve told you to take care of these flowers, but I’m house-sitting for a couple weeks. I can manage, mister…”

“barber. mr. barber.”

your eyes widen as your head spun for a split second due to the unquestionable coincidence.

no way.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

PART 3

a/n; this is my multiverse: lloyd hansen, andy barber & devin peters

(devin peters is chris evans’ cameo character in the movie don’t look up, just a reminder :)

#kali writes ! #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut

[randomfoggytiger]

Writing Patterns

Thank you for the tag, @virtie333~! :DDD

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

"I Know You. It’s What I Do."

The hulking shadow had vanished from the tunnel mouth, slipping through cold, faded stone as easily as mist; and taken her partner with him. Mulder’s ferocious “FBI--” wilted into an unanswered echo while she yelled for him, hit the rock, hit it again, and began pushing, shoving each of the weathered corners to find a weak spot. 

"You're Not Here, Dana-- You're a Million Miles Away"

He didn’t know what had gone wrong.

The Hospital Where You Slept

The world shrank to his beating heart, desperate inhalations, and freezing sweat.

“Think He’ll Call You Tonight”

Charlie was the one that convinced their father. 

"You Up For Joining Us?"

Bill had arranged it with Dana ahead of time: Dad’s first mates guarding the perimeters while Charlie, Hessa, and the kids stood inflexibly in the middle. 

"Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You"

The first time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder was the day after his sister and her partner were sucked almost dry and hospitalized in Washington State for nearly two weeks.

Eight Nights of Mulder: Day 8, Lights

Lights catching and sliding off of files, lots and lots of files, hearts beating in time with their feet, breaths hitching with the heady flurry of the past few days-- wondrous resurrections and answers in their hands and dangers rumbling quick and powerful behind them.

Eight Nights of Mulder: Day 7, Latkes

Mulder stopped mid-signature, holidays at his grandparent’s house slamming into focus as Agent… as one of the agents swept by with a wide smile and a plateful of food.

Eight Nights of Mulder: Day 6, Dreidel

“Yes, Mom, yes, I will-- what? You… what? Yes, yes I-- yes, Mom, I got it. Yes, I’ll tell him. Mom, Mulder’s here I have to go--” 

Eight Nights of Mulder: Day 4 and 5, Endurance and Miracles

Mulder stood as far as he could from the blood and the gore and the rotting scent of failure, willing the ocean air to leech the exhaustion from his bones.  

and

“Mulder? We need to follow the ambulance back.” 

Tagging (if you want~): @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @amplifyme, @suitablyaggrieved, @pennyserenade, @deathsbestgirl, @settle-down-frohike, @cecilysass, @slippinmickeys, @aloysiavirgata, @storybycorey, @sigritandtheelves, @invidiosa, @thescullyphile, @darwin-xf, @numinousmysteries, @skelavender, @television-overload, @nachosncheezies, @wexleresque, @sagan-starstuff, @writingwell, @incidental-ao3, @tofuttim, @stephy-gold, @jessahmewren, @whovianderson, @oohnotvery, @syntax6, @teethnbone, @chavisory, @two-microscopes, @piecesofscully, @sharpestasp, @freckleslikestars, @spidey-is-tired, @leiascully, @mulderwearingglasses, @frogsmulder, @danascullysjournal, @unremarkablehouse, @xxsksxxx, @redteekal, @sarie-fairy, @agentwhalesong, @dreamingofscully, @cutelilcurtain, @thatfragilecapricorn30, etc.~!

#Writing Patterns #tagged #fanfiction #fanfic #the last ten I've written #txf #xf fanfic #Mulder #Scully #xfiles #x-files #the x files #mine #writing #Bill Scully #Tara Scully #Maggie Scully #Charlie Scully #Eight Nights of Mulder

[qqtxt]

[🌸] be mine w/ txt

✿ pairing: ot5 x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / tooth-rotting fluff 🌸 / minor cursing/curse words (none with ill intention!) ✿ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 500 words for each member / altogether, word count: 1,894 words ✿ happy valentine’s, lovelies! 💖 [masterlist 🌸] / other members under the cut! / @kflixnet​​ ✨

[🐰] soobin / my sweet valentine although soobin’s a shy bean, he still manages to make you shy with the way he had intended for valentine’s to roll out. from asking you to be his valentine through a sticky note he left in his notebook and asking you to open the book to reveal his attempts of writing as cleanly as possible: ‘be my valentine?♡’

ooh... choi soobin is one smooth little shit.

the cute setup allows for soobin to show up at your door with a single rose and that smile on his face when you surprise him with a single rose. it’s like looking into a mirror; hilarious, stupidly sweetly in love. fast forward to now, being in his arms cuddled up in front of the television linked to netflix with an anime rerun he loves to watch but really, it was always just an excuse to have you in his arms. the feeling of your lips pressed to his chest as you partially lean into his embrace to have your eyes glued to the screen; your hands, laced by his hip as you squeeze him every now and then to shift to a comfortable position but always, always by his side.

that makes soobin smile as he curls his arm around your shoulders to shift you closer. it’s the way you silently oblige, willing to be as close to him as possible and the gentle kiss you leave on his chest. he rests his cheek to the top of your head and occasionally allows his eyes to glance at the two stems of roses by the television console.

tl;dr: this cutie might not make it a big deal to ask you to be his valentine’s (as he doesn’t see the need to have to wait for valentine’s to do something sweet) but would see it as a way to kind of playfully show you his affection. say it with me: he :”) feels :”) happy :”) seeing :”) you :”) happy :”) so he’ll definitely try to show you in some way during valentine’s either a small gesture, a cute date, as long as he gets to spend some sort of time with you. (if not, he may just send you flowers or a little something!)

[🦊] yeonjun / my silly valentine you try not to spoil the fun when the second you open the door and yeonjun’s fumbling with his phone because he’s trying to play a love song, only for spotify to fail him. the loading screen makes you snicker quietly, a hand still on the door, the other pressed to your chin to hide your smile. he squints his eyes at you and it makes you drop your smile, now both hands up in front of your chest as a hey, i’m not laughing. just watching you, my guy.

he soon breaks out to a grin when the upbeat tempo of i just called to say i love you by stevie wonder starts playing. he keeps one hand on the phone, juggling the small bouquet of flowers and he extends his other hand to you. before you can reach for his hand, he already juts to grab ahold of it; pulling you close to him to start swaying you to the music even if you didn’t plan on dancing in front of your doorstep with nothing but a shirt and shorts on.

it’s not what you had intended (your box of chocolates for your lover boy over here stashed away in the fridge and he most definitely beat you to it) but with the way yeonjun’s smiling at you widely, trying to dance around with you and make you smile is all you could possibly ask for on valentine’s.

tl;dr: be prepared for extra-ness or just one of the most heartwarming gestures despite it being something simple. i can see he’ll either go all out or resort to being “simple” but... c’mon, we all know even if it’s “simple”, jun’s still going to find a way to make it extra. buying you flowers? man will try to serenade you and force you to take the flower from his hands. buying you chocolate? he just may feed you one by one. regardless, valentine’s is just another excuse for him to shower you with love and his appreciation; be it grand or simple, it’ll have his whole heart.

[🐯] beomgyu / my lovely valentine beomgyu’s a romantic, and it shows even on a day like valentine’s that’s over-commercialised for the sake of ripping out profits from lovesick couples. yes, gladly give me all the damned festivities at the cost of more than what it’s worth, right now. you can’t even see him properly with the balloons that block your view but it’s the way he struggles with his yelps and shouts is what reassures you that yes, this is the man you love past all the silliness and goofiness he does just to see that smile on your face.

“be my valentine?” his voice is nearly drowned from your eardrums but your laughter reaches his ears just as effortlessly.

“do i have an option here? you looked like you robbed the entire party shop,” you try to grab ahold of some of the balloons, luring them in so beomgyu has the chance to step into your home. past the door, he ditches the balloons when they’re able to be constrained to your ceiling. he gently grabs ahold of your wrists to give them a shake so you let go of the balloons and when he’s able to look at you face-to-face, he gets down on one knee with the plethora of balloons surrounding you, framing the silly, lovable sight in front of you that is choi beomgyu looking up to you with sparkling eyes.

“c’mon, i’m not getting up until you give me a solid answer–”beomgyu’s words are left stuck in his throat when your hands move from his grasp, cupping his cheek to give him a kiss that shuts him up completely. it’s brief, but it’s impactful. you’ve officially knocked all the wind out of his lungs and breathed life back into him all at once.

when you pull away, he blinks at you in a daze; entranced... but his personality is never diminished.

“if i knew buying you balloons will give me kisses like that, i would’ve robbed the party shop a long time ago.”

tl;dr: playful and romantic; the perfect combination of choi beomgyu. he’ll make it fun but you can tell it all comes from the love he has for you. apart from the typical cheesy stuff, he’ll find new ways to innovate this forsaken celebration and make it something you look forward to. even if he doesn’t have anything planned, it’s the way he asks you to be his valentine (with a cute twist) is what makes valentine’s worth celebrating. he doesn’t think he needs to do something on valentine’s to show his love but rather, he wants to just because he loves you.

[🐿] taehyun / my sincere valentine it’s an hour or two past midnight that taehyun returns home to you. just the beginning of valentine’s in the wee hours of the new day that he snuggles in bed with you. past the slumber and sleep ebbing away in your consciousness, you can feel his kiss to the side of your head as he curls his arms around you.

“you okay?” your voice groggily reaches him; but it’s always as clear as day, gently nudging his ribcage. he chuckles softly and nods, able to decipher just how tired you sound but it never manages to faze the concern and worry you have for him.

“mhm,” he hums, “better now here with my valentine,”

“hmph,” he feels you huffing against his chest, yet your actions prove otherwise when you circle your arms around him and nuzzle into his embrace, “you didn’t even ask me.”

“oh, sorry,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering: “be my valentine?”

“get me chocolates tomorrow, then i’ll consider,” you mutter under your breath, to which he snickers, “who said i didn’t? it’s in the fridge already.”

“...you’re good, kang taehyun,” you sigh, eyes remaining shut as you allow yourself to succumb to sleep. before you do, taehyun doesn’t miss the way your words reach his ears, and it makes him pull you closer with a smile on his face to await for the day to begin officially in a couple of hours that he’ll get to spend with you.

of course i’ll be your valentine. always have been.

tl;dr: his approach is rather simple but it’s not any less sincere than the rest of the boys. he goes for a more... “rational” and lowkey approach, but with the way he expresses his love for you and what he feels on this day is what makes your heart feel full. if there was something he’d want to do or a place to bring you, he wouldn’t wait for valentine’s but he wouldn’t be opposed to using valentine’s as an excuse, either.

[🐧] kai / my soft valentine *pun intended upon opening the door, you’re greeted with a plushie so huge, it almost swallows the person holding it. apparently, it’s–”kai!”

“a little help would be great!” he yells back, past the fluff engulfing him that you lunge forward, easing part of the weight as it begins to topple over you. kai’s signature laughter rings in your ears when you’ve decided to give up, laying on the floor with this huge fluff of a teddy bear on top of you. his animated, excited voice is mumbling something of how adorable you looked; sounds of camera captures entering your ears.

“kai, get this off me!”

“only if you promise to be my valentine,” he huffs, kneeling beside you with a cheeky grin now that he sees you can’t move with this teddy bear on top of you.

“huening,” you deadpan.

“yes, pretty?” he smiles; so sweetly in contrast to your death glare.

“i agreed to be your valentine’s countless of times now since we got together. it’s kind of a given at this point so please, get this off me!”

“benny,” he corrects, already peeling a part of the teddy off you so you can sit up. with narrowed eyes aimed at him, he chuckles, “i named him ‘benny’,”

“you can ask benny for kisses, then!” you manage to nudge the teddy bear at his face so you can sneak away. with a hey!, kai’s quickly closing your front door and terrorising you with the bear he’s bought you... which later on, ends up being a cute movie night of kai leaning against benny behind him with you in his arms in front of him. a kind of combination he won’t switch for the world if it meant having you in his arms.

tl;dr: this boy would approach valentine’s similarly to how he expresses his love for you (and his guilty pleasure) of plushies. he views valentine’s as an opportunity to do something grand, or maybe something just as silly as getting you a big-ass plushie as a joke (but not really, lol). either way, he’ll kinda show you his affection as he usually does on any other day, but just add something a lil’ extra.

#kflixnet #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #txt stories #txt imagines #txt reactions #txt reaction #txt scenario #soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #taehyun x reader #taehyun scenarios #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai scenarios

[candiedspit]

Banana Daiquiri

It was summertime; hot tango and swedish malt. 

I was twenty five, a lonely space cadet with no return mission. I floated through the mist of pristine, magic light. I wore a cocktail dress to the corner store because I could. Artificial diamonds shuddered on my wrist while a thousand hot words licked the walls of my mind every single second. I was very alive most days. 

For work, I took care of Gem, a bright seven year old whose favorite color was a carcinogenic green. The kid was mute. And in lieu of a proper schedule–some of the families I’d worked for before treated their children as hostages to time, every hour had a name–I was given the simple task of entertaining Gem until her parents got home from work. 

This meant long walks to the playground, afternoon movies, aquariums, library trips. I liked Gem. Her long sheet of blonde hair which ran down to her stomach and flew in the wind. Her penchant for worms and dirt. I could tell she knew more than I did, picked up on the subtle tones of the universe.

Each morning, I picked her up from her house and we headed out. Out to the avenues. Out to run out fingers along the brisk voltage of morning. Out to the world. It was the third week of June. It had been raining on and off for several days. But at last, the skies were clear and the sun was beautiful, dazzling rays falling to the ground. Gem held my hand. 

Gem, it’s a wondrous morning, I said as we walked. 

I held her backpack on my shoulder. 

It’s the kind of morning you could weep over, I continued. 

The kind you dream about when you’ve been inside for too long, marinating in all of your perceived misery piss. The kind you didn’t think you’d ever see again. But here it is. 

I love the summers most because every horrible thing you did in the winter is gone. Every tantrum. Every snarl. Every shard of glass. Gone, gone, gone.

Eleven blocks. 

We walked until we reached Gem’s favorite park, the one with the long, twisted slide and sprinklers and swings. Gem let go of my hand and ran to the swings. I sat down on a bench and drank from my water bottle. After this, we’d go to get lunch. Strawberry ice cream. Soda, sandwiches sliced down the middle. And then maybe we’d saunter down the boardwalk and play some of the games they have there. 

I’ve always gotten along well with kids. I think I understand them. The bossa nova of the world, each little thrill and dissapointment. How you can feel gladness singe your fingertips. How the sun shines for the first time every time. 

How confusing the grown ups are. 

After work, I usually went to my favorite bar or called the man I’m seeing. Or both at once. It depended on how tired I was, how long the day had been. That evening, I went to the bar. On third street, it was a run-down bar that never had more than twenty occupants. I sat at the bar and ordered my usual; a banana daiquiri. The bartend asked how my day was. I said it was fine and left the conversation at that. I watched the small television above his head. A newscast about the bombings in Turkey and gasoline prices. All things that didn’t touch me. The universe only existed as I could see it. I got one more drink, paid and left. 

On my walk back home, the skies were bloodied and vicious and beautiful. Clouds ate at one another like twins in the womb. I was wearing a long blue dress. I felt like taking off my skin. I wanted the wind. I wanted everyone to love me. The buildings seemed enormous, metallic titans left to rot in the ground after some fantastic war. I was living in the land of zero, the peace spread across the land like a woman on a bed. 

I got home too soon. 

✴

Gem stopped speaking at around three years old. 

It was January and outside, snow filled the gaps of the city like glue. It dawned upon her parents as syrup spreads across the table–the silence. No babbles through the hallways. No requests for sippy cup. No mama. When her mother would urge her to speak, she would look into her face with her insect green eyes, and then look away. Gem’s pediatrician said she would grow back into speech. Had something happened? 

Nothing happened, her mother said. Nothing has happened. 

Gem had always concerned her parents. During holidays–out on the white, dense beach in Spain or with her many spritely cousins at Christmas–Gem preferred to play alone. She could never look at the camera when pictures were taken. And she had this–her parents called it a habit–habit of doing a sort of kangaroo hop when she was excited or nervous or anything at all. Sometimes she wringed her fingers in and out of crooked fists. 

 But the speaking was different. When Gem’s mother told me, she couldn’t stop herself from getting choked up. 

It was like we lost her, she said. Whatever stupid hope I had that she was simply an eccentric kid, that I was the idiot for not understanding the way she saw the world, was killed. And replaced with the fact that we had something on our hands we weren’t prepared for. 

When they finally got the diagnosis, Gem was five. 

Often in these cases, early intervention was key; but also, girls were typically diagnosed later than boys. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And what mattered was what her parents were going to do next. Therapists moved in and out of the house like business men on a train. Occupational, speech, physical. 

But in the summertime, she didn’t have access to therapists. All she had was me and our little ventures into the world. I hoped I was doing good by Gem. That sunflower kid. That cartoon heart. All I could do was try to guide, be her compass in a dark terrain. 

I liked living two lives. 

One where I filled in the gaps and another where I fell through them. 

✴

Sometimes, I have strange thoughts, I told him. 

I was in the bed of the man I loved. And I was sure he loved me too. At least, at that moment. He was five years older than I was. But he was fun to be with. I liked spilling out in the dark with him. I liked his giant hands over mine. I liked surprising him.  

What kinda thoughts? He asked. 

I know what other people are thinking. I know what everything means. There’s an ultraviolet shimmer to the world and I can see through it, I said. 

It’s hard to explain, I continued. Happy neons. Dark, frustrated movements. An elevator dropping to the basement. How do you explain a yard to a kid kept in the attic? 

You’re a freak, he laughed and kissed my head. 

He didn’t understand. 

✴

I sat out on his balcony–he was one of those people who had balconies but never used them–at the end of a gigantic, African cigar; one of his favorite pastimes besides television. And me. It tasted like midnight, a rough kind of bark. Ash. I liked letting the smoke out so that it floated above the city like a warning of sorts. Beware, there are people who say they love you and don’t. Beware, there are peep holes even in Heaven. I was high on a pill he’d slipped into my mouth, something small and pink. In combination with the tar and the night air and the fact that I was naked, I felt like a kerosene bomb. I felt like a laughing serpent. A dirty thrill. I began to speak out loud, beneath my breath so that nobody could hear me. 

Not anyone besides you. 

There aren’t many people like us, I began. Not everyone can see the mess, the vomit and slashes of graffiti and stray dogs and doom, and smile. Not everyone can see that there are fairgrounds in a warzone. Not everyone can touch the music. Not everyone can hear the light from miles away. But we can, Gem. I think we are gods.

I think we are poets.

#my poetry #fiction

[buckyarchives]

the trials and tribulations of getting Bucky Barnes a second date.

summary: Bucky hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs a little… practice.

words: 2.1k

tags/warnings: tooth rotting fluff, gender neutral reader, bucky being old and reader being horny

a/n: small drabble i posted on ao3 awhile ago. i need to post more on tumblr so here’s this.

read on AO3

—♡—

Boredom was going to eat you alive.

Bucky Barnes had fallen into a depression since his last date, it had probably been the tenth one this month because you and Sam were oh so determined to get James Buchanan Barnes back out into the dating scene. And the dating apps were definitely not working. So he opted out. Bucky came through the door of your shared empty apartment and declared he was destined to be alone and threw himself on the couch– and it seems he hasn't gotten back up since then.

“So like, Steve is an asshole.”

You hummed, eyes glued to the television screen. “Wait until you figure out that's not even his real name.”

“Jesus.”

Having been there on the whole failed-date-depression thing, you joined Bucky on the couch and decided to help him catch up with the 20th century. So you introduce him to netflix and your favorite series– shameless. It was trashy and loud and nothing like Bucky had ever seen. He described it as a train wreck that he couldn’t keep his eyes off. You agreed. He likes it.

Anyways, that was about 2 or 3 days ago, give or take. Sam had been texting and calling you both, in his words, to get off your lazy heartbroken asses before he had to come over and rip the television off the wall. Sam also texts you in big capital letters.

FIX HIM.

You scoff at the message and grab another piece of pizza from the coffee table. You glance at Bucky on the other side of the coach, lying parallel to you. His 5 o'clock shadow had grown darker, as well as the bags under his eyes. Bucky is wearing one of his many stupid red henley shirts and some sweatpants, your eyes travel down his body, and his foot is nudged between your side and the couch. You poke it. He flinches, Bucky’s a little ticklish. But don't tell anyone that.

“Alright, Buck.” You snatch the remote and pause the show. “What's your problem?” He looks offended, like he wasn't expecting this conversation at some point.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” he sends a glare to you, the reflection from the tv makes his eyes glossy and bright. He looks pretty good, for being couch-ridden depressed. “You know what im talking about '' you snark back. Bucky turns, his face lands flat into a pillow. A muffled and pained-groan escaped his lips. Swiftly, you reach across the man's body and grab the pillow.

“Gimme that!” bucky reaches, but you’re quick.

“Not until we fix your… dating problem.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Jesus. You make it seem like I'm some loser.” he sits up, scooting to the edge of the couch. You tilt your head and give a teased look. He notices.

“I know, I know…'' Bucky trails off, eyebrows furrowed close as he dramatically falls back onto the couch. Pick a spot man. Bucky sighs and continues. “I just keep overthinking everything, like Steve always told me about how I used to be, y’know? That charming, romantic boy from brooklyn that swooned girls everywhere he went.”

You punch his shoulder softly, to lighten the mood? You were so not going to let Bucky go all doctor raynor therapy sessions on you, especially over your pizza. “Dude, don't brag.”

“Seriously,” bucky says your name, seriously. “I've come to face the fact, that boy is gone. But, i just overthink, and it gets awkward and then they start nagging me about me and my past–”

“Nope!” you interject. “That is not nagging, buck. That's called getting to know your date.”

“And, we had the talk about if you were going to try dating that mean having to tell people about your past.” you speak, matter-of-factly, your finger pokes his chest.

“Whatever. I just tense up and get nervous, it's hard talking to people. It’s not like you or sam!” he waves his hands around, motioning to you. Your mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. You close your mouth. “Its just so stupid, dating is so different now. When did getting flowers become... weird?”

bucky looks confused, you could have sworn that sam and sharon gave him the run down on dating in the wonderful year of 2022. Guess not. “It's not weird, the standards have just gotten lower for men and dating.”

“More of a reason for me to be good at dating!”

“Oh poor you, old man!”

You throw his pillow back at him, Bucky grabs it before it hits his face. Almost, you thought. The room goes silent again, you lean back against the couch next to bucky. Your head turns to look at him, his eyes are shut. You take notice of his features, not your first time though. Your mind darts back to when he first came to the tower, when he was still recovering (i guess bucky still is recovering now) and barely spoke a word. But, you were, well– still are, a horrible insomniac and he had his night terrors that left him screaming awake. And Steve knew when he was awake and Bucky cared too much to keep Steve awake at night.

So, call it fate or call it a weird coincidence, you two found yourself in the commons room on late nights, which turned into sharing a bed. Two friends, sharing a bed to comfort each other. Totally platonic! And if the shoes fits. Bucky never had nightmares when he slept in your bed, maybe it was your brand of sheets? That was years ago and he still hasn’t told you that, maybe that was one of the reasons he agreed to buy an apartment with you.

Those nights, when you slept close to him (platonically!) you also, slept better and fell asleep much faster than normally. Which was a plus, but god– you could stare at him for hours. You wished to trance your finger along his jaw, or the curve of his nose, or maybe even just feel this skin on his cheek. You never indulged, you were scared you’d wake bucky and have to stop staring, is that creepy? Maybe, but he looked like he was sculpted by the gods so you’re sure they'd be very flattered knowing you were admiring their work. You’ve been doing that for years now and have yet to tell him about his beauty.

A quiet, breathy nose-laugh comes from bucky. You’re snapped from your thoughts and you see his eyes are open now. He didn't see you staring, did he?

“What?” you’re still looking at him. Bucky shakes his head, waving off your question.

You grab at his hand, the cold metal meeting your warm flesh, a comforting feeling. He doesn't flinch like he used to. You smile to yourself. “No! You can't do that and not tell me!”

“I can't say, really. It's kinda embarrassing.”

'`Oh?” you give him that look, that look that says ‘tell me or i'll cry.’ or maybe it's ‘tell me or i'll hurt you.’ whatever, it works.

“Don't give me that look, doll.” the nickname lulls off his tongue. You smile again. “Fine, okay. It's just… this last date. She– uh, she tried to kiss me and she was so close and i got nervous and tensed up, i panicked, really. Because i dont think ive actually kissed anyone since, well, the 40s.”

Your mouth gapes open. You don't mean to, really, but damn. No wonder he can't get a second date, the old man is practically a 13 year old boy when it comes to girls. Bucky glances over to you and sees your face. He screws his eyes shut in embarrassment and goes back to head in pillow mode. Maybe you'll tease him a bit more. “Buck, your virginity has practically grown back by now.”

“Oh, will you stop with that.” he playful smacks your leg. You laugh to yourself. And bucky swears he felt just a little bit lighter. Just a smidge.

Bucky sits back up again. Seriously pick a position to lay! He looks at you. Shifts his weight, shifting closer to you. He lays his head on your shoulder. You loved it when he did that.

“I'm never going to get laid.” he jokes, is he joking? You both laugh.

“You are shit out of luck, bucky.”

Suddenly, you had an idea. One that would go terribly wrong or terribly right. Maybe even wonderfully right.

You gulped. “Hey, bucky?”

He hums. bucky turned to look at you and you almost, just almost backed out on this very stupid and slightly self-indulgent idea. “I have an idea, to help you… get out of your shell. You can say no and hate it or me, and walk away and be mad at me for even suggesting this but…” you trailed off, slightly fiddling with your hands. Bucky's eyes brows furrowed slightly as he gave you a confused look.

“You can kiss… me. If you want, just to get you out of your shell, you know? And to make you more comfortable with the whole motion… of kissing.. Someone, anyone.” you keep talking, rambling. God, you need to stop talking. Finding the right words seemed so impossible. This idea sounded much better in your head, you fiddle with your fingers more.

He doesn't respond. Fiddle with fingers more. You screw your eyes shut and expect him to get up off the couch, finally, and be depressed in his room.

Bucky thinks for a moment, sucks in his lip. “Sure.”

Your eyes shoot open. ”what?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck–

“Only if you're comfortable with it, sure.” Bucky said. It was your turn to panic now, had you really thought this through? Did you really want to do this? Spoiler, yes you did. But you really didn’t think he’d actually agree to this, you assumed he’d say no and you two would, hopefully, just laugh it off and continue watching shameless.

“Doll? You okay in there?’ he smiled at you like this idea wasn’t crazy.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just thinking..” you stopped yourself from speaking out your thoughts. You faced him. “You really wanna do this?”

Bucky just nodded and moved to face you. His eyes landed on you and just like that, a flip switched and you couldn't stop the word vomit.

“Seriously, I don't want to force you to do this or make you uncomfortable, also I really don’t want this to change anything between us, you know? Because i really like being your friend and if this jeopardized it that would be really bad-”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you.”

Then, suddenly. His lips slant against yours and bucky swears he’s in heaven. Swears that you're an angel. Bucky's hand instantly grabbed the back of your neck to quickly close the gap between you two. You sat there still under his grasp for a second, before snapping back to life and slowly beginning to kiss back. You'd never imagined being in this position years ago, hell even 30 minutes ago. Your hands raised to the sides of his face, this moment was so sensual and sweet it could rot your teeth. Bucky's lips were so warm and soft against yours, this felt like heaven. His tongue grazed your lips, you let him in and soon he danced in your mouth. It was all too sweet and hot. You had to cherish this moment while you could because this could, and probably, will be the only time you get to kiss him.

Pulling away slowly, your eyes made contact instantly. Surprise and… lust, flashed in Bucky's eyes. You were both breathing heavily and you glanced at his lips, they were pink and wet, even a little swollen. He had yet to say anything and it was getting harder to resist going in again. He sucked his bottom lip in and his eyes shot to your lips for a moment.

“Fuck it.” you breathed out.

And you dove into him, pushing him down onto the couch so you were on top of him as you connected your lips again. Your hands latched around his neck as he gripped your waist, pulling you even closer into him. The kiss was more aggressive this time, his hands were all over you as you started to trail yours down bucky's body, feeling how solid his chest was under his henley shirt.

“It's always been you.” bucky pulls away just far enough to murmur against your lips. Your body feels incredible hot. “I just wanted you.”

the world went quiet, your brain short-circuited and all you could focus on was his icy eyes and his hands holding your face. Was this a confession? or were you dreaming? oh my god. your mouth gaped open slightly.

“you’re telling me we could have done this months ago?”

Bucky's eyes crinkled and he laughed. you feel like you're on fire. and he dips down again.

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

[mightbeorphanedidk]

THIS JUST IN! DEER MAN ON A HUNTING HIGH LEARNS THAT A TV IS LOWKEY INTO HIM! (for safety reasons this is a joke. Vox or Alastor, please do not click on this.)

Good evening, pathetic sinners, I'm Katie Killjoy!

(And I'm Tom Tre--)

People give two shits and a fuck about you, Tom. Coming in tonight with our top story: The Radio Demon has learnt some incredibly horrendous news regarding his fellow co-worker of the AV3, The Television Overlord! Recently our reporters (R.I.P Whatever their names were) discovered a chilling scene in the forest surrounding the ring of Pride!

Alastor, otherwise known as the Radio Demon, is widely known for fucking off for days on end hunting some pathetic sinners, but his most recent trip turned out to be a bit more docile than usual! If you don't know him, here is our rendition!

(This is not actually The Radio Demon. Please do not hunt us down, Sir, this is not what we think of you. Hunt the unpaid intern who drew this, not us)

Here is what our reporters caught on scene! Thankfully we found their camera, but the cameraman is no longer with us. One less unpaid intern to pay, and we get footage on top of that? Amazing!

As we can see in the footage, the infamous Radio Demon appears to be on yet another murderous rampage, seeing more blood than reason!

(Ha! They should call him the Deer Demon, look at how he acts!)

You are a limp-dick virgin, don't add more to that. Anyways, it looks like our face of the AV3's got the hots for a special rampant deer! Just how low is he willing to stoop for some attention from the guy?

It's so sexually depraved and one-sided I'm starting to think the TV will resort to flirting with a brick wall!

More on tonight's program; Video Killed The Radio Star (Except the video in question is completely, utterly, repulsively, disgustingly, obnoxiously down bad for said radio)

Pssst! Are you some stranger who's seen this and is interested? Check out my AO3, where I write tons more one-sided RadioStatic! I also write tooth-rotting fluff, angst, and Vox being pathetic for an outd__4t3d.!#%>RaD1o very handsome and superior overlord! I would also pass my TT, but I don't post on it so I see no point.

Ao3: MightBeOrphanedIdk

This fic: Video Killed The Radio Star (Except the video in question is completely, utterly, repulsively, disgustingly, obnoxiously down bad for said radio) - Chapter 2

Series: Vee!Alastor AU

Thanks!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #one sided radiostatic #ao3 fanfic #shameless self promo #it's 2am I wake up in 3 hours #fanfiction #archive of our own

[callsign-bunnie]

52 Letters To Simon Riley - Chapter 2

Week 2

The problem with grief was that even when you were distracting yourself from it, it was still there. Like a gaping bullet wound in your chest. This was… a pretty sizeable bullet wound. You could try to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. Even stitching it up and letting it heal was ultimately useless because you still had leftover damage. You would take off your shirt, look in the mirror, and there the scar was, reminding you of what had happened. Who you had lost.

Warnings: main character death, grief, drug use, and referenced suicide, homophobia

--

Dear Simon,

I read in an article somewhere that going outside for even just ten minutes can help depression and grief. So, my ask of you this week is that you go outside for just ten minutes a day. Even if it’s just to stubbornly stand on your patio, glare at the outside world, and then come back inside. Just… at least ten minutes. You can set a timer, I won’t mind.

You mentioned, once, that when you’re on leave, you don’t generally go anywhere. That you lay in bed and occasionally look at your phone, but for the most part you put on shitty television for background noise and just lay in your bed and rot. I love you too much to let you just rot for me.

I know that   Sometimes when we’re It’s embarrassing how nervous you make me, Simon. Even while I’m writing letters, meant for you after I’m dead… I’m so anxious, I want to impress you. 

That was one of the only thoughts in my head, in Las Almas. “I wonder if Ghost thinks I’m cool.” I was trying so hard to impress you, to make you like me.

Really, I’ve always been like this. I grew up with this knowledge that there was something different about me because the minute I get around guys Fuck. 

When I was younger, I pretty much always knew I was gay. I know we had this conversation, together, about how you were the same, but… bleeding hell Simon, it was bad for me. I’d get around guys I was attracted to and the only thing I cared about was getting them to like me. Sometimes, it was to my own detriment, but… most of the time, it was just embarrassing.

I’m cringing pretty damn hard just remembering what I would do.

But that’s how I felt in Las Almas. All I cared about was keeping your eyes on me, making sure you thought I was impressive. When searching for Hassan in Al Mazrah, when searching again in Las Almas… that was all I cared about. 

You told me that I make you nervous, too, but… I don’t think you understand just how nervous you make me. I was so terrified that you’d think I was a loser or maybe worse. It got in the way, sometimes, but those were always the times you would show up and save my ass, so hey, maybe it worked out. 

When you started to call me Johnny, I was on cloud nine. When you let me call you Simon? When you didn’t correct me? I thought I would die. Then, when we were in the safe house, Rodolfo told me something.

He told me about him and Alejandro, about the struggle they had went through before getting together, and he told me that all he’d ever wanted was for Alejandro to see him and I realized that I was wrong. I didn’t want these guys or even you to really like me, though it was nice, I wanted for you to see me. I wanted to take up space in your consciousness, I wanted you to notice me. 

Now, though, now I regret it more than anything because I know what my death is going to do to you, and I know it wouldn’t have mattered if you had never saw me. I love you, and I wish you didn’t love me, because then you wouldn’t be in pain. 

I’m so sorry.

Yours, forever and always,

Johnny “Soap” Mactavish

-

Well, for the first day, Ghost had done exactly as Soap had said he could and he’d set a timer on his phone and then sat on his balcony and waited for the timer to end, before taking his ass right back inside and going back to bed.

It had not made him feel better. In fact, because it was winter in Manchester, he was now fucking cold and miserable. 

See, the problem with grief was that even when you were distracting yourself from it, it was still there. Like a gaping bullet wound in your chest. This was… a pretty sizeable bullet wound. You could try to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. Even stitching it up and letting it heal was ultimately useless because you still had leftover damage. You would take off your shirt, look in the mirror, and there the scar was, reminding you of what had happened. Who you had lost.

For Ghost, it’d always felt like a weight in his chest, akin to being strung up by his ribs again. Except, this time, he was being held over a space, his ribs exposed and weights hanging from each bone, struggling to pull his entire rib cage out of his chest. 

Sometimes, he wanted to give in and let it.

However, if he did, then he couldn’t read the rest of the letters and he’d made a promise to Johnny, even if just internally, and so he would do his best to make it through the rest of the year, just to read the letters. 

-

The second day had been about the same, however this time Ghost’s attention had been caught by a few little kids. Well, actually, they looked like a little gaggle of 13 year olds, but one was clearly getting picked on by the others as the other four were tossing what looked like rolled up balls of paper at the kid and yelling taunting words. 

Fag. Queer. 

Ghost had done as he had resolved to, setting the timer on his phone and stepping outside. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes, this time, kind of wanting the cold on his feet since it might distract him a little from the gaping in his chest. 

The sun was shining a bit, which honestly only pissed him off. He wanted to be miserable, couldn’t the weather get with the program and at least make it cloudy? Overcast, but bright would be most desirable as he hated that weather the most. 

But, no, the sun had to be shining or whatever. 

That was when he noticed the kids. Their yelling irritated him very quickly, since again, he had shit to do. All he wanted to do was sit on his fucking balcony that he needed to get replaced because holy shit this thing was wobbly, bloody hell, and grief his dead fucking boyfriend and these kids just had to come along and scream.

“Yeah, you fucking faggot! You better run from us!”

Okay, that caught Ghost’s attention real fast. He watched the kids, watching one of them who was fairly smaller than the others, sprint through the parking lot before tripping over a curb and falling with an audible thump. He didn’t recognize the kid, and he probably should considering he only had about three tenants, none of whom had children. 

All five looked like they were from the nearby private school, which did have Ghost rolling his eyes a little. It was when they started to throw things at the kid, rocks and what looked like wadded up pieces of paper that Ghost decided to intervene. He wasn’t a hero in any way, but he’d been that kid once and he didn’t want anyone else ending up like him. 

So, his best course of action had been to yell, “hey!” before launching himself over the balcony, landing carefully and taking off towards the kids at a brisk jog. 

As soon as he started in their direction, the four bullies just about shit their pants, all going pale and turning in the other direction, frantically sprinting off. Ghost couldn’t help laughing at the sight, knowing he was probably pretty scary with his height, build, and his skull mask that he was wearing. 

“Little pricks.” He grunted as he made it to the kid on the floor, who looked just as scared as they had, staring up at him with wide eyes. His eye was bruised and his knee was bleeding pretty heavily, which had Ghost wincing a little.

He’d definitely gone through worse, but he remembered the very first time he’d scraped his knee up like that, chasing Tommy around the backyard. He’d ended up tripping and slamming it right onto a rock, and he had been fairly certain it was broken. But, his father had just snorted, told him to man up, and sent him right back outside.

Ghost wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t his father. Instead, he just crouched down, hoping he could make himself as not scary as possible, and knowing he was likely failing. “What’s your name, kid?”

The kid’s eyes did not leave him, and Ghost didn’t miss the way he flinched when Ghost touched his knee to inspect over it. “D-Dean, sir…”

“Don’t bother with that sir bullshit.” Ghost chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not an authority figure, don’t worry. You busted this up pretty good, looks like it’ll scar.”

Dean winced as Ghost again touched the wound, crying out when Ghost carefully used his sleeve to wipe at some of the blood. However, it was a scrape, not a wound. A fairly big scrape, which would make a pretty rough healing process, but it wouldn’t need stitches. “Where’s your family, kid?”

Dean was quiet, his eyes watching Ghost’s hands before his face went somber. “I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean?” Ghost decided to help the kid stand, standing up and then hooking his hands under the kid’s shoulders and lifting him to his feet. Dean again winced when he was placed on his feet, but he seemed to stand just fine on his own, even if he was placing most of his weight on his good leg. 

Dean wiped at his face and almost appeared to sniffle. “I’m um… I… I live at the boys’ home a street over.”

Ah. Another orphan, just like Soap. And Gaz. You know, for how great his country tried to seem, they sure seemed to have a lot of orphans. Whatever. Ghost frowned, before shaking his head. “Come on, I have some bandaids in the tenant office.”

Dean appeared to hesitate before nodding and so Ghost led him to the building, the kid limping behind him. When they got to the front doors, Ghost had the kid wait outside, jogging inside and getting the first aid kit before coming outside and offering it to Dean. He wasn’t going to play nurse. Dean thanked him and sat down on the curb. He was clearly experienced, as he pulled aside the torn clothing to clean the wound with an alcohol wipe before applying antiseptic and the bandaid, wincing the least with the process, somehow.

“You know what you’re doing.” Ghost acknowledged, sitting on the curb beside him and then getting out a cigarette. “I hope you don’t have asthma, kid.”

Dean shook his head, ducking his head. “I have to patch up my own wounds a lot…”

“Makes sense. Do they often target you?” Ghost asked, lighting the cigarette and then glancing at Dean, who winced. “I see. Why?”

“I don’t know… I… I…” Dean appeared to hesitate, ducking his head, and Ghost caught on. He knew that look. He knew that “the taunts and slurs are the truth, not random” look. 

So, Ghost shrugged. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m gay so I won’t let them call you that. Next time they start to pick on you… lead them back to me. I don’t mind beating the shit out of a couple of punk kids.” He did, but he planned to just threaten them again with some of the military stuff he’d brought home with him.

Dean looked up at Ghost, clearly shocked. “I… I’m sorry?”

Ghost chuckled, softly, and shrugged. “I’m gay.”

“You don’t look gay… sir.”

“Blimey, do you want me to wear a blinking rainbow??” Ghost barked out a laugh, watching Dean’s face go very red. “No, I guess I don’t. Funny, no one else has any trouble picking it up.”

Dean went quiet and looked down at the curb. “I wish I wasn’t… Maybe then they’d leave me alone.”

“No.” Ghost shook his head, sighing and taking a puff of the cigarette, slowly letting it out and thinking about his own experiences. “Prats like those kids that are bullying you don’t care if you’re actually what they call you. They just want to be assholes and they happened to land on the truth.”

Dean looked up at him, again, and frowned. “Were you bullied?”

Ghost almost knee jerk told the kid to go fuck himself, but he just sighed instead. “Yes. By the worst bully of all… My dad. He used to say a lot worse than those kids were. But… you’ll get your revenge, don’t worry.”

“Did you?” Dean asked, biting his lip. “I don’t think I will.. I’m a lot smaller than them, I don’t think I’ll ever be stronger than they are.”

“How old are you, Dean?” Ghost asked, glancing at the kid again.

“I’m 15, sir.”

“You have time to get bigger and stronger. Can you believe that, at some point, I was shorter than my little brother?” Ghost laughed, softly. “I was shorter until I was about 15, then I shot up and became around 6’4 by the age of 20, where I remained. I got stronger than my father, too. I got to a point where I could beat the shit out of him and he learned to leave me alone.”

Dean still didn’t look very hopeful. Ghost didn’t blame him, he hadn’t believed it until it happened to him. It was a good thing Price wasn’t around, he had a soft spot for kids like Dean, he might end up adopting the boy. “My name is Simon, by the way.” Ghost murmured, nudging Dean. “If they start to pick on you, again, you come back here. You get off of school at the same time?”

“3:00, sir…” Dean nodded. “It takes me about ten minutes to get home…”

“Alright. Then I’ll be out here.” Simon nodded and then he got an idea. “Here, stay out here for a moment.” He got up and quickly jogged inside, going up to his apartment and getting one of his small pocket knives, coming back down. It had the 141’s insignia on it, which Dean immediately marvelled at, as soon as it was in his hands. “Here, kid. Protect yourself with it, but only if you have to. Only if it’s you or them, okay?”

Dean touched over the insignia. “What does this mean?” 

Ghost sighed and carefully sat down again, ignoring how badly his feet had started to hurt from the cold. “It’s… my squad’s insignia. I’m in the SAS.”

Dean’s eyes almost appeared to shine with admiration as he looked over it. “That’s… Special Air Service? You guys are so cool…”

If Ghost wanted to talk to Price, he’d consider making sure he’d be around when Dean was walking by, but… he didn’t want to talk to Price. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, honestly. Well… Dean was cool. “Thanks, kid. Again, though, not unless it’s you or them.”

“Alright… Thank you, sir.” Dean mumbled and put the knife in his pocket. “I’ll start walking by here every day…”

“Good.” Simon nodded. “You should go home, Dean. Do your homework, or whatever.”

Dean nodded and got up, waving before he was rushing off again. Ghost watched him, making sure those kids didn’t come back until made it to the front door of a small building, which Ghost did recognize as a smaller home for boys. He recognized it because he and Tommy had once spent a week there, while some shit was happening with his dad and mom. 

Tommy would have liked Dean. So would Soap.

Ghost shook his head, going inside. When he checked his phone, he realised he’d been out there for close to 45 minutes. Oh well… Soap would likely be proud of him and… okay, maybe he did feel a bit better. Or… he did until he made it inside and he was looking at the letter, again.

As grief did, he climbed into bed, feeling as though his ribs were exposed, again. 

-

The next day, he almost didn’t want to get up and go outside. However, not only had Johnny asked him to, he’d promised to make sure Dean was okay and he couldn’t find it in himself to let the kid down. 

So, he’d gotten out of bed and dragged himself downstairs, putting on shoes this time as well as a hoodie, and he waited. As promised, Dean was soon running by, coming all the way up to the curb and plopping down. “I have something for you.”

“I don’t need anything, kid.” Ghost shook his head, before humphing when Dean held out a bag of fast food. “Nevermind, I’ll take it.” The brown bag reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in at least a few days, so he just took the bag. “Where did you get this?”

“My cousin works there, sometimes they have orders that are mistakes or never got picked up. So… he gives them to me because I can’t afford to eat during the day.” Dean shrugged. “I took a sandwich out of it, so now you can have the rest.”

Oh yeah, Soap would have adored this kid. Ghost grunted in response, getting out what looked like a half sandwich and starting to eat it. It was pretty good, so he thanked the kid, and then sighed. “Did those twats mess with you, today?”

“They did, but it was just their usual.” Dean shrugged. “I think they’re scared I’ll tell you or something. I think one of them recognized you, your last name is Riley, right?”

Ghost was impressed, though then he was suspicious. “It is.”

“One of them… his dad was also in the SAS. I think he knows you.” 

Ghost wouldn’t have been shocked. He wasn’t blind to the fact that he was a legend in the SAS, that Simon Riley was both a ghost story and practically mythos. He could see why… goes missing for nine months, shows up practically insane before disappearing and allegedly wiping out an entire cartel. Not to mention the rest of Ghost’s career and his attachment to the legendary John Price. Bigger men had pissed their pants at the mention of Ghost. “Well… tell them that Simon Riley is watching out for you.” He chuckled. “They ought to leave you alone.”

Dean nodded before standing again. “I have to go, I have chores and Mrs Blathers is a real cunt when I don’t get them done in time.”

Ghost barked out a laugh, liking the kid’s spirit. “Well, go then. Thanks for the food, Dean.”

“Anytime!” Dean grinned before running off, again, already running better than the day before. The kid was sweet, he’d admit.

-

The next day, he just got a wave before running fully to the orphanage, but Ghost didn’t mind, just heading on to where he’d agreed to meet up with Jason, which was behind a store. “You look less like shit than I was expecting.” Jason chuckled, softly. 

Ghost rolled his eyes, “thanks. No, some kid is stopping by every day, and I don’t want to look pathetic in front of him.”

Jason full out laughed that time, shaking his head. “Why is he stopping by?”

“Some kids are picking on him.” Ghost sighed, hopping up to sit on some crates and accepting the lit cigarette that Jason offered him. “They bully him for being gay and so I told him to start coming by on his way home so he wouldn’t get hurt, more.”

“You know, you act like a cold bastard, but you’re really a big softie when it gets down to it.” Jason sighed, leaning against the crates and then holding up a brown bag. “Don’t bother paying me. I know you won’t, and… I feel bad asking.”

Ghost got out the cash that he’d brought to actually pay Jason, raising an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Oh, of course you bring the money this time.” Jason huffed, taking the money out of Ghost’s hand and shoving it in his pocket. “I’m taking it, but consider it reparations, bastard. Has that um… American, Alex, called you any?”

“He has a boyfriend, for one, and for two, no… He’s busy.” Ghost chuckled, watching Jason make a disappointed face. 

“And the other… Alejandro, I think his name was?”

“Married.”

Jason groaned, shaking his head. “Of course he is. Man, you’re useless as a friend. You take my weed, you don’t pay me, and you can’t hook me up with any of your friends.”

Ghost laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think I was useless when I got you out of trouble… what was it, now, 13 times?”

Jason huffed and muttered something in response that sounded something like “it was only twelve, you cheeky bastard”. Semantics. However, they both then went silent and Ghost could feel his ribs exposed, again, the weight yanking at them. 

So, he distracted himself by opening the bag and inspecting around in it, glad to see a couple pills in there, too. Nothing too hard, but enough that if it got really bad, Ghost had a way to escape for a few hours. Jason knew him well. 

“They wouldn’t happen to be open relationships, right?”

“Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason snorted and then looked down at the ground, again. “How bad is it, this time?”

Ghost wasn’t sure how to best answer. It wasn’t like his family dying, where all he thought about was ending it every minute of every day. Don’t get him wrong, he was considering it, but… no. This time, he was just exhausted, every day. He was so unbelievably exhausted. He didn’t know how he was going to make it to the end of the year without Soap.

If he didn’t have the letters forcing him to go week to week, he wouldn’t.

“It’s just as bad, but in a different way.” Ghost sighed, leaning his head back to rest it against the building. “It’s… a suffocating grief. Like I have no oxygen, not like I’m on fire like last time.”

Jason didn’t answer, remaining silent for a bit before straightening again. “I have to go. I have more stuff to deliver. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“‘Course.” Ghost agreed, since he’d likely burn through it by then. 

“Get some sleep, Simon.” Jason sighed, waving at him before walking off.

Ghost grunted when he was gone, since all he did was sleep. Hey, he wasn’t going to do anything else, though.

--

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

@sleepparalysisd3m0n @maxisawell

#Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #main character death #grief #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish #cod #ghost cod #soap cod

[00sgoth]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── › ﹙ OPEN STARTER ﹚

the perks of a video store job ( when he wasn't fired , anyway ) would always be the inability to stay too bored [ ... ] with limitless films to rot your brain with for the next six hours at your fingertips. and thank god —— it was late enough for him to hopefully not worry about the snot nosed brats clinging to their mother's leg and crying over his preferred macabre selection. it was way past their bedtime.

with his back pressed into the counter and eyes fixated on the displayed television spewing blood and violence —— not even the sound of a customer entering the doors out of his peripheral would turn him away. instead , black painted nails would reach out to turn down the cranked volume by a few notches before they had time to complain [ ... ] and he finally called over his shoulder without looking away from the ongoing terror. ❛❛ we close in ten minutes. ❜❜

#𝖎. ★｡° ... 𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴. ༺♰༻ ic. #. come get ur blockbuster boyfriend.