#also. still don’t have the fucking option to message Anyone and can’t reply to posts and it’s been over a week since i emailed staff

[hellfireeddiemunson]

just clicked on the tumblr app and it had logged me out of my account and when i logged back in it wouldn’t load my dash or blog until i closed entirely out of the app three times…..what if i scream directly into each and every staff members ears

#like i literally thought they fucked up my blog and deleted it or made me unfollow everyone idek it was spooky #also. still don’t have the fucking option to message Anyone and can’t reply to posts and it’s been over a week since i emailed staff #im so fucking angry lmfao i don’t even know what to do like do i email them again or no???????? do i just wait???? bc im sick of that shit #CAN ANYONE WHO HAS HAD THIS HAPPEN PLEASE HELP I THINK I GOT SHADOW BANNED FOR NO FUCKING REASON IDEK H E L P PLEASE #also i lost 3 followers since yesterday so that’s also So cool #if anyone can help i can get regular asks i just can’t send them but if you wanna use messages u can send them to my saved christmas url #@gingerbreadmunson PLEASE AND THABK U

[brook1yn-baby]

all mine

main 4 dating hcs <3

characters; kyle broflovski, stan marsh, kenny mccormick, eric cartman x gender-neutral reader

warnings; just a smidge of smut :3

a/n; first actual post 😱 also theyre like 18/19 in this

kyle broflovski:

he’s absolutely lovesick.

bro wrote and performed a love song for rebecca when he was in 3rd grade

you can be damn sure he’s doing that and more for you

only in private though, not big on pda, especially when you’re around his friends

you both know how much he likes you, so he doesn’t feel the need to put on a show when you’re in public

he’ll sling a loose arm around your shoulders while he’s talking to the guys or sit next to you during lunch, little things that tell you he’s still yours

his jealousy does sometimes get the better of him though

probably a little insecure in the relationship, scared he’s gonna lose you to cartman like he did with heidi

one time the five of you were at a party and kyle started squaring up to guy who’d asked you if you were single

sorta gave you the ick but he made up for it by walking you home, giving you a tipsy goodnight kiss and a lopsided grin before stumbling over your porch steps and heading back to stan’s place, the other guys having to hold him up the whole way there

that was the first and last time you’d seen him drink

after you told him about his attempt to fight some random guy, he decided that it’d probably be better for everyone if he stuck to being the designated driver

oh and he loves how close you are with his family

the first time he invited you over for dinner, he was terrified about his parents embarrassing him

almost cancelled when his mom wouldn’t stop saying that her ‘little bubaleh’ was in love

still, you managed to charm them the whole night, asking questions about gerald’s job and helping sheila clean up after dinner, even enduring ike’s constant questioning about if you and kyle were gonna get married

that’s when he knew he’d found the right one

definitely ended the night with your guys’ first kiss <3

stan marsh:

i’m gonna be honest he’s a fucking loser

definitely not the most attentive boyfriend you’ve ever had, but probably the best you were gonna get in south park

it’s a small town and options are slim, so you often had to give stan the benefit of the doubt

absolutely terrible at replying to messages

if you two aren’t physically together, you probably don’t talk

luckily for you, he’s a whiny bitch and will most definitely complain when he’s not with you

meaning most of your free time is spent at his house, listening as he practices guitar, playing video games or just laying in his arms

you could go to his and just nap the whole time and he’d still be happier than if you weren’t with him

you know his relationship with his dad isn’t the best, so you have to be prepared for many late-night ‘can i come over’ texts

most of the time it’s because randy’s drunk or just being a dick and he can’t stand to be around him

and obviously, you’re his safe place

sometimes though, his messages are a little less innocent

he’s a teenage boy at the end of the day, and he has needs

(as do you ;))

you and stan have a pretty stable relationship in comparison to him and wendy, but there’s been times when you two had to go on a break

whether it’s because of his constant need to be around you or his drinking, sometimes you just needed space

you and shelley def complain about him together when you’re on a break

she’s a couple years older but she gets it better than anyone

her own relationship was pretty rocky too, so it was nice to just vent to eachother, probably with a bottle of wine and takeout

it was probably a little weird that you still hung out with his sister when you and him were on a break, but you honestly didn’t care

you and stan never stay broken up for long though, the both of you eventually crawling back

maybe it was a little toxic, maybe you knew it wasn’t really gonna last, but for now, you had him and he had you

that’s all that mattered <3

kenny mccormick:

good old kenny mcwhoremick.

despite the rumours of his promiscuous lifestyle, his body count was actually significantly lower than you expected

not that you cared; you were actually quite happy that he was so experienced- not many boys your age knew how to pleasure both themselves and their partner

he wasn’t just great in bed, either

he’s quick to fall for you, infatuated with you after just a few meetings

immediately takes on a sort of caring role in the relationship, definitely protective, similarly to how he looks after karen

it was nice to have someone so doting, though you had to remind him a few times that you could take care of yourself

he simply shakes his head, stubborn as ever

speaking of karen, you adored her

anytime kenny invited you to his house, you spent most of your time playing dolls with her or letting her do your hair

he loved how motherly you acted towards her

probably got him thinking about starting a family with you tbh

he absolutely loves showing you off, be it with pda, on social media, whatever

you were his and he wanted everyone to know

definitely has a highlight on insta dedicated to photos of you, and a playlist of songs that remind him of you

(also of songs that he’d thought about fucking you to)

though you do spend lots of time at his house now, he was really against the idea when you first started dating

you’d suggest watching a movie at his place and he’d come up with some excuse to do it at yours instead

it wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with you, he was just embarrassed of where he lived after years of teasing from the other boys

one day you decided to show up out of the blue, wanting to surprise him for his birthday with presents

he’s gobsmacked when he opens the door, quickly trying to divert your attention away from the mess in his living room, his parents passed out on the couch

you reassure him that you don’t mind, asking if he wanted you to go; you really wanted to stay and see his reactions to your gifts, but you weren’t going to push him if he was uncomfortable

he was relieved when you said you didn’t mind, finally inviting you in

it was the first time he’d let a partner into his house which was terrifying in itself, but he calmed down when he saw how relaxed you seemed, getting comfy on his bed and waiting for him to open his presents

you obviously didn’t care how messy his home was, or how his parents weren’t the best at looking after their kids

you only cared about him <3

eric cartman:

listen, as much as i love the enemies to lovers trope with cartman, i love the fake dating trope even more

(and i love combining the two the most teehee)

cartman had recently received some pretty embarrassing information about you, and decided to make the most of it while he’s coming up with his newest scheme

you had had a crush on one of the other boys in your class for a few months and, even though you’d only told your closest friends, somehow he’d found out

so, in order to make heidi jealous, he’d forced you to be his pretend partner in exchange for not telling your crush you liked him

it was humiliating- having to hold his hand as he walked you to class, sitting with him at lunch, enduring his sickly-sweet pet names..

..only at first, though

after a few weeks, you’d come to enjoy the routine the fake relationship provided

you also found that you actually liked spending time with eric, and he could be pretty funny when it was just you two

you did your best to shove your feelings down, slightly ashamed and pissed off that you liked him, of all people

still, it couldn’t be helped- you had stopped staring longingly at your crush during class, eyes fixed on cartman across the room

it didn’t help that heidi didn’t seem too jealous either, causing him to ramp up the ‘pretend’ affection

when you were around him, he acted like he couldn’t get enough of you; playing with your hair, caressing your face, all the while keeping a strong arm around your shoulders, like he wanted to keep you close to him

as much as you liked the attention he was giving you, it was infuriating knowing he was only like this to get heidi back

it all came to a head when he tried to kiss you as she walked past you both in the hallway

you pushed him back, all of the feelings you’d been forcing down suddenly overflowing, choking on tears as you walked away

you knew when he didn’t bother following you that this relationship really was just pretend to him

it wasn’t until later that night when he showed up on your doorstep, hands in his pockets, sighing, that you realised maybe you were wrong

he obviously wasn’t big on apologising but tried his best, looking slightly annoyed as he admitted that he’d only blackmailed you into being his fake partner because he knew you’d say no if he actually asked you out

his logic was completely insane to you, but from eric’s point of view, he genuinely saw it as his only option to call you his partner

your heart melted as you thought about how he went through all that just because he had a crush on you

you don’t say anything in response, shocking him a little as you walk towards him, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his chest

sure, you’d hugged before, but it was awkward and emotionless, just pretend

this was different- his arms enveloped you, pulling you close as you felt him laugh

he was most definitely gonna tease you later for being ‘obsessed’ with him, but you could deal with it

after all, you were really, actually his <3

#brook1yn-baby #south park #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mcormick x reader #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #headcanon #fanfic

[selectivechaos]

alt. communication in relation to situational mutism.

🌹🌹there is a reason that all thoughout school i never used any of these forms of communication. i just Struggled.

partly because:

was never offered to me,

did not know it existed, (can we talk about that? this shit i needed, and didn’t know it existed.)

saw speech as the only option; as a test i had failed, and therefore was doomed just to either keep yelling at myself in my head to speak (something i did for several years), or just give up

was led to believe that my inability was a defiance or rudeness, or that i secretly didn’t want to speak.

and that if i tried enough i would be able to speak.

low self worth and internalised ableism: didn’t see it as worth anyone’s time or attention.

social anxiety meant couldn’t communicate at all; couldn’t be seen as Attempting to communicate, because it would mean more pressure to speak.

so by ‘scared’ i don’t mean i chose not to use things that were available to me; i mean i was never offered them, and it would have been impossible to use them.

(am out of school now and can use tts sometimes around people i live with!)🌹🌹

long post

wanted to talk about this. lot of people just assume that because can’t speak, will automatically be able to communicate in other ways. that i will have found an alternative. but my sm makes these hard or impossible too a lot of the time.

🌹text to speech

pros: alleviates voice dysphoria. helps with fear of how voice will sound (especially with anxiety making it harder to control: my voice is hard to go above certain volume, often inaudible, and can come out higher pitched or in squeaks). with standardised ways of pronouncing a given word, i can learn what to expect and control how my voice sounds.

cons: the vocality. can’t fucking make sounds. still My voice making my words heard. scared it will come out too loud or too quiet. scared i will accidentally up the volume. embarrassed when it reads out typos. hard to control.

there is a reason i never used text to speech throughout school. would Not have been able to. all vocality was difficult or impossible. coughed, sneezed, laughed Silently.

also: did not even know it existed.

🌹 communication cards

pros: pre-written messages. words from outside the context of the social situation. sure they are taken and applied to the situation, but it feels more indirect.

cons: anxious so can’t hold them up, can’t make the physical movement. get embarrassed by them (even though i shouldn’t; my anxiety is irrational).

🌹 notes app.

pros: more flexibility than communication cards. give more specific replies to clarify my intentions. in my area, use of notes app is more normative than comm cards, so less social anxiety.

cons: typos, small text. have to choose the specific words i want to say. and that means that it is very direct, almost like a conversation. and because people can see me typing, they ask more follow-up questions, clarifications, and more specific things which = pressure to speak. makes it harder to type anything.

also: this is inspired by this post, which has notes with a lot of ppl talking about how their sm affects communication.

#situational mutism #selective mutism #social anxiety disorder #social anxitey #text to speech #part time aac user #accommodations #sm tag #my brain rn: just post it. but it’s a differwnt time than usual. but its ur actual timezone. but its scary #mostly only post queued bc anxitey #fuck it

[keef-a-corn]

This is just me venting

Shoutout to that one person from Instagram that absolutley ruined me ✌️😚

Like thanks babe, I needed to be taken down a peg

Now I thrive with the sheer amount of anxiety I get when it comes to sharing and chatting

Love the way you made me scared to share posts I found that are over a couple months old, or how I get really nervous telling stories that involve anyone outside of the person I’m chatting with.

Love the way you ruined my New Year’s Eve a couple of years ago, making me break down and cry for about an hour because when you told me about an experience I had aligned it with ADHD traits (after being very open about the fact that I have ADHD) and not only did you get mad at me for even implying you have ADHD, but you made me feel extremely insecure about having it myself.

Let’s not forget the way you lashed out at me when I asked you a question about an artwork (it was ‘where’s [X] standing?’ Because the scaling and everything looked incredibly off and I just wanted to understand what was happening)

How about when I got too nervous to share an experience with a creator because I was young, they were older than me, they had more friends, we had been in an argument for about a year, and I couldn’t physiologically take it anymore, then we resolved the issue and you deadass got mad at me.

Oh wait, no.. it was also earlier than that, when you called them something like toxic and I told you that I had never considered them like that before (as in it never clicked for me that they were toxic) and you stopped talking to me and when you did it was just to tell me off- as if I wasn’t the victim in the situation and wasn’t the one that couldn’t recognise how greatly this person had affected me.

The endless uncalled for venting?

OH! How about that time I showed you a drawing and instead of giving any praise or feedback you didn’t mention the drawing and instead asked why I still made Gacha Content, so I gave you a full list on why I do it and your reply was something like ‘Nevermind’ and I asked you why you asked and you still haven’t told me to this day.

What about when I helped you find disgusting CountryHuman art and artists to report, then a few days later you message me saying we can’t be friends anymore if I still like countryhumans, not even just informing me that you don’t like it and giving me the option to leave the fandom or stop being your friend.

Reminiscing on when I got super excited and nervous because I messaged and artist I adored, then we got to chatting and it was super exciting for me, so you actively searched for any reason to hate that artist, and when you found one, I had suggested I can simply ask them to edit the post and remove it, so that it wouldn’t be a hassle, but you kept saying not to bother.

I messaged them anyway, suggesting to remove it and they were more than happy to do so because they’re a normal fucking person who recognised that maybe it wasn’t the best decision, then you got mad at me??

How about when you were super judgemental of my ship [this was countryhumans btw] between Australia and Germany, while you shipped America and Australia. Then my reasoning of just enjoying the places and knowing that there’s peace between them was never enough??

I could never come to you with dramas from my life because you’d either ignore me the whole day, or you’d try to one up me.

Anytime I said anything that upset you, you wouldn’t talk to me for, minimum, an hour, which would leave me stressing and apologising.

These all greatly affected me because now I:

Rarely share and promote posts that are older than a few months, seeing it as me embarrassing myself (I want to get past this, because I know sharing and enhancing with posts are important on platforms)

Get nervous discussing ADHD with people who aren’t diagnosed and feel like I have to purely mention the good things, rather than the everything.

Think I criticise too harshly and feel like no one can use my critics and that they’re useless.

Fortunately I don’t get into a lot of creator drama, but if I do, it takes a while to get support.

Now I get nervous to vent at all. Never wanting to put pressure on being listened to.

I just.. I think about that regularly…

Now I get scared to tell people I’m NOT in a fandom anymore. Never told my ex partner I didn’t like Countryhumans anymore.

Now I get nervous reaching out to creators at all (praise my moots) and have to rely on people coming to me instead.

I managed to get past that one and now have a perspective of ‘if it’s not illegal, go off’

Once again, greatly affected the way I open up to others, even my therapist.

Now I have an incredibly weird relationship with apologising, as it’s lost all it’s meaning.

As I said

Thank you

So much.

I loved experiencing that as apart of being a minor on the internet.

#vent #personal vent #this is just #something I had to make public #they live in my head rent free #and I just.. #can’t #they’re a huge contributor to who I am today #them among many #but I never really recognised them as #being bad #for me

[vibraniumwing]

only girl in the world.

a sam wilson x fem!reader wherein the reader cleans the apartment due to jealousy.

WARNING: NSFW (18+, minors DNI. ), praise kink, oral stimulation (f receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration (wrap it before you tap it lovelies), light choking, swearing, the setting is set somewhere in between AoU and CACW so like around the time in Ant-Man ?? also slight au ( i think )

A/N: so this is for @anchoeritic's 3k writing challenge! seeing that she’s a fellow sam wilson simp, i chose him for this fic (and we are seriously lacking in sam wilson content i hate this) and because it’s sam’s birthday we’re gonna celebrate >:)))) icb he’s an aries though. uGh

prompt/scenario: character A catching character B singing

word count: 3.7k

---

Dating a superhero meant there was a lot of restrictions; cuddles and movie dates with them are fleeting moments since you never know when they would get a call about a grape-headed alien terrorizing the planet and you couldn’t flaunt them as much as you wanted to because your safety would be greatly affected if their arch nemesis finds out about your existence.

But regardless of it all, you were thankful because Sam never made you feel less of what you really are to him. A lot of your friends who know about your relationship with The Falcon were envious about how mature the both of you are, managing to balance both of your work lives and your personal ones at home; none of them really knowing how immature the both of you are behind closed doors.

Making this another reason why you loved the privacy being hidden from the public eye; you felt like you were in your own coming-of-age, rom-com movie with Sam with all the hidden rendezvous at The Washington Mall at midnight and drive around the empty streets of the city just until the crack of dawn or just stay at home and cook countless of meals, teaching each other recipes from both sides of your families

It was the relationship anyone could have ever dreamed of.

---

“You’re not making this any easier for me, baby girl.” Sam said, sighing inwardly as he stuffed his duffel. He was going over to New York for a few days, probably on another mission with the Avengers (or training with them) and you weren’t having any of it; wanting nothing more than to have him home and with you for a few more days一 possibly forever if that was even possible.

You groaned softly at his response, sitting on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest as you watch him ready his things for yet another mission. “Then don’t go” You simply told him, face holding the same sad expression as your lower lip was jutted out in a small pout as you looked away, not waiting to tear up once again; him leaving for missions was always the hardest.

A chuckle left his lips, setting the suitcase down on the carpeted floor of your shared room before claiming his spot next to you; the dip of the bed from his weight caused you to look at him. “You know I wouldn’t dare to leave if I had the chance to, right?” He asked, his scooting closer to you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “But I always come back, right? Because you’re my home.”

You relaxed under his touch, stretching your legs unto the bed and wrapped your arms around his muscular frame, hugging him close to you in fear that he might disappear all of a sudden. “I know, but do you really have to go?” You murmur, hiding your face against his neck, the way your breath falls on his skin causes goosebumps to rise on his own.

“I have to, they need me, sweets.” He explains, wrapping his arms around your own frame and squeezes gently, enough to convey that he’ll be fine; that he’ll be safe and unharmed after all of the fighting he has due.

“I’ll be back in no time.” His reassurance made you sigh inwardly, knowing that you can’t convince him otherwise. Sam was always just like that, once something is set on his mind on something, he won’t stop until he gets it done. He rarely second guesses what he wants and he does, you’re the person he talks to.

You didn’t speak anymore, opting to let the warmth from his body consume you and lull you into sleep, his hand tracing small shapes into your back as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. I love you.”

---

The sunlight that peeked in through the sheer fabric of the curtains was enough to wake you up, reaching over to Sam’s side, expecting to feel him there but instead you were greeted with the sound of paper crumpling from the side of your hand. Stirring awake, you sat up and grabbed the note that was folded neatly.

“I’ll be back soon, baby girl. Don’t miss me too much, I love you.” You read outloud, adoring how neat his handwriting was, hugging the paper to your chest before whispering, “I love you too” before placing the note by your bedside table, rolling out of bed to get on with your day when your phone dinged. Looking at the lit up screen, you smiled at the message from Sam.

[ from: birdman lover ]

- It hasn’t even been a day and I already miss you.

- This’ll be a long week.

- Have a great day though.

- I love you.

---

- Steve’s still clueless on how phones work but he’s getting there. He “greets you a hello”.

The rest of the week was your normal routine, aside from the occasional texts and calls you would get from Sam whenever he had the chance to check his phone; telling you how much he missed you and sharing stories of what’s going on inside the compound. It was like he never left, the only difference being he wasn’t physically there to give you the affection.

Saturday morning soon rolled around and you were bouncing off the walls excited that you had to wait just one more day before Sam could come back home; come back to you. You practically bounced off the walls as you did all your errands一 mainly you getting your car cleaned and your weekly Target run一 and your day was all rainbows and sunshines.

Until it wasn’t. You were scrolling through your Instagram when you saw a picture that made your blood boil immensely. It was a photo of an actress (who was extremely good looking) in the arms of The Falcon. You had to take a few moments in to fully register the fact that the woman had managed to snag a photo with him, “He’s even hotter in person.” You read the caption out loud, eyes rolling in irritation, even replying to some comments from her fanbase, making it seem like they were dating.

You rarely get jealous about anything with Sam, being so secure with your relationship with him but seeing someone who has a platform freely post him made you writhe in your seat about how you should be the one flexing him like that, not her or anyone else.

You opted to call your lover to tell him how you feel but there was this side of you that didn’t want to go through a whole discourse with him through the phone so you went with the better option, cleaning the fuck out of your apartment until your agression washes away.

Plugging your phone to the sound system, you started off with Rihanna’s Only Girl in the World before grabbing the broom from the small closet in your apartment's kitchen, starting to sweep the floor. “You’re a bad bitch, Y/N. Now go clean,” You hyped yourself up in the mirror before strutting back to the living room to sweep your emotions away.

Unbeknownst to you however was the fact that Sam was well on his way home. He got to go back home earlier than expected and he didn’t tell you, wanting to give you a surprise. Jogging up the stairs of your apartment complex, he was practically rushing to make it your door so he can finally kiss you.

Finally finding the keys to your shared apartment, he opened the door and slowly creeped in, expecting to see you seated on the couch but what he saw was something else. He was stunned beyond words to see you clad nothing but his shirt and a messy bun while holding a broom, singing your heart out.

“Want you to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world” you sang out loud, holding onto the broom as if it was a mic while you danced, awkwardly body rolling to the beat. “Like I’m the only one that you’ll ever love, like I’m the only one who knows your heart” You continued, starting to “sweep” the floor again while grooving to the beat of the song, not noticing Sam who was silently watching you.

“Like I’m the only one who’s in command” Your voice blending into the music as you rocked around the room, singing your heart out to the chorus. “Cause I’m the only one who understands how to make you feel like a ma一 Sam!”

You dropped the broom, jumping up in the air as you turned around to see your boyfriend leaning by the wall, watching you with an amused expression while holding his arms out to you. “Are you just gonna stand there or come here and give me a hug?” He questioned, raising up an eyebrow at you.

Wasting no time, you paused the song before making your way over to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you hugged him. “How long have you been here? Why are you here already? Shouldn’t you be coming home tomorrow?” Your bombardment with questions made him chuckle, his arms going under your thighs to support your weight, walking towards the couch and settling the both of you on there.

“I wanted to surprise you, baby. We finished a little bit earlier than expected so the moment we got back to the compound I was well on my way home.” He answered, one of his hands retreating from your backside to sneak up and cup your jaw, thumb tracing it gently. His eyes were locked with yours, filled with adoration and love as he continued, “turns out you have a surprise of your own for me. What’s got you cleaning so aggressively?”

You laughed, the anger you had just moments ago melting away as you lean into his touch, “It’s nothing, Sammy. Just me being a little jealous, is all.” You explained, finding it easy to admit your feelings. Your relationship with him was just like that; centered on honesty, understanding, and love. The reason why you’re so assured with him.

“Jealous? What’s got my baby jealous?” His brows were furrowed at the answer, mind trying to remember his actions prior to this conversation to see if he had done anything wrong but came up with nothing. “Did I do something?” He questioned, sitting up a bit as the conversation got more serious.

“I just saw this picture of this you and this actress posted on her instagram and一” you paused, finding it silly now that you’ve even been this jealous about this in the first place. “一I just got jealous that she could post you on their social media so freely. Kind of made me realize that I’m still not existent in the eyes of others; I should be the one posting you like that. Kind of made me realize that I’m not the only girl in the world that wants you.” you finished, not wanting to look into his eyes anymore at the sudden sadness from being hidden.

Normally, you wouldn’t even bat an eye on it but seeing how broken you were, Sam was shattered that you had to go through that thought. “There’s no need to feel ashamed that you got jealous, Y/N.” He said, the hand that was on your jaw now going under your chin to make you look at him again. “I know I insisted that I hide you from the public eye so you can be safe from harm and I’m sorry that because of it makes you feel like this.”

He sighed softly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “But if you’re ready to be introduced to everyone, even to the team, then I’ll be more than glad to show you to the world.” Sam said, his lips just millimeters away from yours, “The only girl I’ll ever love.” He finished, locking his lips with yours.

You swore on the fact that Sam’s lips were made for your own, the pace slow and sensual, enough to relay that he was sticking to his words and that you didn’t need to worry about anything. His plush tiers felt soft against yours, his teeth sinking into your bottom one, nibbling against it softly before swiping his tongue against it.

“Does my angel want me to show her how much she really means to me?” He whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips before pulling back, locking his gaze with yours, pupils blown with love and adoration clouded with a hint of lust over the thought of seeing you squirm under him.

Given the fact that you were sitting on his lap, you could feel how hard he was under you. “You feel that, darling? You do that to me.” He groans as you shift, the friction causing his dick to twitch inside his tight jeans. “Be a good girl and use your words, baby.”

“Want you, Sam.” You say, mind too aroused and clouded with perverse thoughts due to the lack of touch you had from him this week to make a concise sentence. “Want you to make me feel good, please.” You beg, brows furrowing lightly in need as you watch him study your expression, a small smile forming on his lips as he easily hoists you up, arms gripping your thighs.

“How can I resist such a good girl begging for me to make her feel good?” He questions, gracing your lips with another chaste kiss as he carries you into your shared bedroom, placing you on the bed as he hovers above you. “I’ll make you feel so good tonight, sweets.”

His lips are then on yours again, his lower half grinding on yours a few times to rile you up, making you elicit a few moans that caused him to go overdrive. He grunts, taking in the scandalous sounds you make before sitting back up, taking the shirt off from your body, throwing his head back at the sight of you clad in only your underwear. “You do know how to make me go wild, baby doll.”

You smiled at him, happy that you were able to make him go haywire at just the sight of you not even fully naked. “My clothes never seem to stay on with you around anyways.” You answer, making him chuckle lightly as he started to attack your neck with kisses, nipping at the skin quite harshly making you hiss in pleasurable pain.

“You look better naked” was all he said before taking in one of your breasts, tongue swirling around the hard nub as his hand teased the other, fingers pinching on it lightly making you take a sharp gasp. He did this for a few moments before kissing his way from the valley of your breasts all the way down to the top of your panties.

Sam looked up at you with a devilish grin upon the realization of what lingerie you were wearing, “My angel looks so good.” he praises, taking a moment to admire your already fucked out appearance with lips swollen and hickey littered skin. He was quick to take off your underwear, eyes filled with hunger at the sight of your soaking cunt.

This feeded his ego to no ends, seeing you so needy for him. “I haven’t even touched you yet you’re already so wet for me, baby girl.” he commented, hands caressing your inner thighs teasingly as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you.

The way his rough and slightly calloused hands were in juxtaposition to the smoothness of your skin granted goosebumps to run along your skin, the cold air of the room adding on to your arousal. “Sam, please. Need you.” You begged once more, attempting to close your legs for some needed friction but his sudden grip on it making you think otherwise.

“Almost there, baby. Patience.” He said, bringing two digits to very lightly graze upon your slit before bringing it up to your lips, his thumb tapping your bottom lip, “Open up, sweets. Wanna see you taste yourself first.” He ordered, wanting to see you suck on his fingers.

Wanting nothing more than his touch, you easily obliged and took his fingers in without him prying them open. Your eyes were locked with his as you sucked on it, setting a blaze inside his eyes that you haven’t seen before, that lone making your stomach twist in knots.

As soon as Sam was satisfied at how wet you made his fingers, he finally gave your throbbing pussy the attention it yearned for. Inserting the two digits inside of you with ease as he slowly started to pump it in and out of your heat while his thumb rubbed circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were a moaning mess under his touch, back arching at the slightest touch he would do to your clit. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure he was providing you. “F-fuck!” You breathlessly moan, hips bucking up as you wanted more of his touch.

Sam then leaned, tongue lapping up your sweet juices as he sucked on your aching clit, the gentle suckling was sinful to your ears. He moaned at the taste of you, its vibrations against you making you whine at the contact. He curled his fingers inside you, easily finding your sweet spot upon seeing how you writhed under his touch.

With Sam’s tongue abusing your clit to no end and his digits mercilessly pumping in and out of you, the tension was all too much to handle that the knot that was in your stomach finally broke. “Go on, baby. Come for me, why don’t you.” He said, feeling how your walls were clamping up around him. The euphoria that followed made your legs tremble as you reached your high, shamelessly moaning Sam’s name mixed with profanities as he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

“Such a good girl for me” Was his words, rising up from his position. You watched as he licked up every last drop of your cum off his fingers, rolling off the bed to rid himself off from his own clothes, your mouth practically watering at the sight of his rock hard length that sprung out from the tight confinements of his boxers.

You were gonna reach out to feel him when he stopped you, “No, baby. Tonight, it’s all about you, remember?” he said, stroking his length a few times, thumb circling around his tip that was glistening with pre-cum as he got back on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. “You ready?”

“Y-yes, Sam.” and upon hearing your answer, he eased into you. Both moaning at the longing of feeling each other intimately. No matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you still couldn’t get used to his size. He filled you up quite easily, his hips meeting yours as he filled you in deep.

Ever the gentleman, he waited for you to give the signal that you were ready and upon your nod, he started to move slowly, wanting to ease you into the pace.. Sam’s groans were music to your ear, “So fucking tight, angel.” He said, one of his hands reaching up to wrap around your neck, pressing against its sides lightly.

“F-faster, Sam. Please” You said and he complied, like your words were pressed a switch in him, he started to relentlessly slam into you, fucking you into the bed and into oblivion. His other hand was on the headboard, palm spread out to gain some support, the bed shaking violently as he continued.

“Let me hear those moans, angel. Let everyone know who you belong to.” Sam said, the hold around your neck tightening slightly, wanting to see you slowly gasp out for air as you let out those heavenly yet sinful sounds, “Who do you belong to, baby?”

“Y-You, Sam!” You answer, feeling your body writhe as another orgasm was already brewing at the pit of your stomach. “F-fuck, I-i’m yours!” You continued, eyes practically rolling to the back at the immense amount of pleasure you got from him drilling you into the mattress.

With those words that left your lips, he started to pound to you even rougher, not caring if the neighbouring apartments heard your cries of pleasure or the squeaking of the bed. You were his and it was his very intention to let everyone know that. “That’s right, doll. You belong to me.” he said, his eyes on your fucked out face. “Mine to fuck and mine to love.”

Feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst, your hands were gripping the bed sheets as you cried out in pleasure, “I’m gonna cum!” body unable to handle the amount of pleasure being handed to you as Sam continued to fuck you out, riding out your high until his own climax hit with one final slam, moaning as he filled you up with his own cum.

Pulling out slowly, Sam took the time to admire his own cum mixed with your drip down from your cunt, a feeling of satisfaction spread through his chest at the sight of you. He leaned in to kiss you once again, this time it was soft and just filled with love, hand running along your sides gently, “Such a good girl for me.” he whispered, pressing one last kiss before he stood up and walked over to the bathroom.

You attempted to follow him, but ultimately failed as your legs were shaking too much from your recent orgasm. You could hear Sam chuckle as he re-emerged from the other room, a wet washcloth in his hand as he approached you. “Let me take care of it, alright princess?” He said softly.

He then started to clean you up, making sure to whisper soft praises about how you took him so well and of how you were so good for him. The moment he was done, he mindlessly threw the cloth into the hamper, collapsing on the bed and took you in his arms, eager to cuddle you. Sam pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. You’re the only girl I’ll ever love.”

You hummed softly, making yourself comfortable in his arms, reaching up to steal a kiss from him, “I love you too, Sammy. I’ll always love you.”

---

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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 10)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,007

Summary: Set loosely (and I mean loosely as there is some significant canon divergence) during Our Man in Madrid and The Good, the Bad, and the Dead, Search Bloc begin to make inroads, but at what cost? Javier’s and Horacio’s unwavering trust in each other has unexpected consequences and the penny finally drops for Steve.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of a gunshot wound/being shot, brief smut but nothing explicit, discussions of sexuality and unintentionally coming out, angst, smoking, swearing. 

Notes: Well, this took an absolute age to edit for a variety of reasons, so I’m not even going to guess at when chapter 11 will be ready 😂 Most of the first draft is done though at least. Also, I know it may not look like it given the way this chapter ends, but I promise this is still a fix-it fic 😉 Thanks to anyone still reading, commenting, liking/kudosing etc.! 

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 10: A Leap Of Faith

When you’d been in Colombia for as long as Javier and were more at home than most in areas saturated with grey, you were bound to forge unlikely alliances. Which was why it should have been a shock to no one when a tip-off from Don Berna of all people fell into his lap. A tip-off that gave him the location of the Moncadas’ largest cocaine lab, no less.

With help from the DEA, Search Bloc raided the lab and captured its employees – including a well-known sicario named Gato – in the process.

Once back at Carlos Holguín, Gato and his accomplice were transferred to a helicopter waiting to take them to Bogotá for questioning.

“Are you coming?” Horacio asked both agents, although his eyes honed in on Javier.

Javier shook his head with a knowing look at the “Happy now?” expression Horacio carried.

“Yeah, I’m in,” Steve replied at the same time, undeterred by Javier’s refusal.

In fact, Javier was damn sure it was quite the opposite. An air of tension had lingered between them ever since the night he drove off and left Steve hanging. No more words were spoken on the subject, but sometimes silence made the loudest sound.

The way Javier and Horacio had avoided Steve’s questions of late almost felt cruel, even if it was necessary. So, giving Steve a wide berth for now and letting him go with Horacio alone was the wisest option as far as Javier was concerned. Despite not being sure any gesture other than the truth would be enough to satisfy Steve’s curiosity by this stage.

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Horacio was glad of the noise from the chopper once they were in the air, although he could feel Murphy’s gaze on him as he questioned Gato.

Holding Gato’s arms behind his back, Horacio pushed him towards the edge of the open hatch. “It’s a long way down if you can’t give us anything, Gato.”

“I’m not telling you shit, you son of a bitch!” Gato yelled back over the hum of the airflow. Although there was a distinct crack in his voice for all his bravado.

“Are you sure you don’t want to re-think that?” Horacio tried again, this time dangling the sicario’s head over the precipice as his grip on Gato’s arms tightened at his back.

“Fuck you!” came Gato’s reply through gritted teeth, grimacing at the increased force.

Horacio expertly pinned Gato to the floor with one arm, his other reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a flick knife. He released the blade before scoring it along the nape of Gato’s neck and across his cheek, denting but not breaking the skin. “Last chance, asshole,” he breathed against his ear as he jabbed the cool metal under his chin, teetering on the very brink of drawing blood.

Gato let out a shrill scream followed by a series of desperate pleas. “Alright, alright, alright! Please! I’ll talk!”

Horacio didn’t believe he would when it came to it. But he also figured Gato and his silent friend would get themselves killed by Pablo’s men if they did. Or, they’d be left to rot in jail if they kept their mouths shut. Either way, they’d be off the streets of Medellín and would no longer be his problem.

It wasn’t that his disdain towards these low lives had subsided since his return. But he was tired of carrying the responsibility for them. He wasn’t so much sparing them but rather himself by leaving their fates in someone else’s hands. They were cannon fodder, who Escobar didn’t give the time of day, so why should Horacio? It wasn’t as though most of them had anything significant to confess anyway. It had taken Javier’s C.I. to get them the lab locations, after all.

Once they had landed in Bogotá and Horacio had transferred the two men into custody, he was faced with the awkward prospect of travelling back to Medellín with Murphy. This time without the much-needed distraction of a sicario or two to threaten.

Murphy had been suspiciously quiet for the vast majority of the journey to Bogotá but had studied Horacio intently from the safety of his seat. Horacio sensed he was under forensic examination from the moment they’d taken off. To the extent that he tried to keep his mind as blank as possible just in case Murphy could read that as well.

Horacio avoided making eye contact, preferring to stare out the hatch of the chopper instead. But it only got him so far.

Steve leaned forwards in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped together. “So, were you on your best behaviour for my benefit, or did Javi put you up to it? I bet it was Javi, wasn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. Some might say you’ve lost your touch, Carrillo.”

Horacio fought down the temptation to wipe the arrogant smirk off Murphy’s face, settling for a stern glare instead. “A bunch of kids and a couple of sicarios who were never gonna get us close to Pablo? Why break a butterfly on a wheel, Murphy?”

“Pretty sure that’s never stopped you before,” Steve scoffed. “I guess Madrid really did soften you up, huh?” He couldn’t resist a self-satisfied chuckle at his own jibe as he leaned back again and folded his arms.

Horacio merely rolled his eyes and muttered several lesser-known expletives in Spanish loud enough for Murphy to hear but apparently not understand. 

He was vaguely aware of Murphy shouting “What?!” but pretended he hadn’t heard and resisted the urge to clarify it wasn’t Madrid per se that had softened him up.

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Search Bloc continued to chip away at Escobar’s business in a string of raids, seizing or burning large quantities of coke and cash as they went. And taking down any sicarios who got in their way. Horacio may have curtailed some of his more extreme methods, but this was still a war. If someone aimed fire at him or his men, there was no moral dilemma to agonise over.

As news of the lab sieges spread, it wasn’t long before Escobar made his next move against Horacio, this time with the assistance of Valeria Vélez. A story ran on her news programme about the night Search Bloc apprehended the spotters. The boy Horacio caught on the rooftops had gone on record to allege Horacio murdered one of the spotters in cold blood and in full view of the others. An unnamed DEA agent was also reported to have been at the scene.

All it had taken was a slight twist of the truth. One simultaneously so close to what did happen and what could have happened. What almost happened. A fact Horacio was all too aware of. And one that only exacerbated the gnawing guilt that had settled in his gut since that night.

To add insult to injury, soon after the report aired, he received a phone call from one of his superiors. The higher-ups seemed to believe his version of events, much to their annoyance. If it had been their decision rather than Gaviria’s, Horacio would never have been reinstated in the first place. So, naturally, they couldn’t resist an opportunity to remind him of the consequences the last time he overstepped. Or that their reputations would be on the line if the President of all people came asking questions. And that there were other candidates they had in mind for the job if Horacio wasn’t up to the task. Never mind all the payoffs they had let fly under the radar year after year. So long as they kept their noses and uniforms clean, that’s all that mattered, apparently.

After the frustrations of his phone call, Horacio was glad to blow off steam with yet another raid. And with Javier back at base afterwards. Since the night in the alleyway – or rather the conversations that followed it – they had fallen into a risky routine of dispelling any leftover adrenaline in the darkest and most deserted parts of the school. Giving in to a primal need to be as close as possible to each other after the thrill of the chase hadn’t hit the spot. Because nothing could compare to this.

It was always frantic and to the point, saving their more indulgent moments for the rare occasions when they managed to sneak back to Horacio’s apartment. Horacio’s seniority meant no one questioned his whereabouts. And it wouldn’t have taken a genius to hazard a guess where Javier might have slipped off to in the middle of the night.

This time they had wound up in an abandoned classroom, hidden by shadows but for sporadic streaks of moonlight catching on their combined silhouette. Javier’s palms were splayed across the wall, steadying his balance and grounding him whilst Horacio’s hips slammed into his own. Unleashing every ounce of pent-up energy with each controlled movement. Relentless and rough, yet somehow still tender in a way that only two people who knew each other inside out could be in such circumstances.

Their ragged breaths and muffled grunts filled the room as they hurtled over the edge almost in tandem. Horacio’s teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of Javier’s shoulder as the sweet relief of his release crashed over him. For those blissful few seconds, the tension was gone, and his mind was quiet.

Spent and out of breath, they zipped themselves up and sank to the floor, leaning back on the wall they’d just fucked against.

“Maybe your bosses should phone you more often,” Javier teased, holding out the cigarette he’d lit in his post-coital haze.

Horacio leaned closer to accept it, his lips brushing over the shell of Javier’s ear in the process. “I don’t need an excuse to do that with you.”

Javier chuckled and tilted his head, chasing the tingling rush spreading across his hypersensitive skin. “I should hope not.”

Splintered pale light filtered through the blinds, highlighting the glistening sheen of their afterglows and their playful smirks. And the way Horacio’s smile soon faded. “Has anyone said anything to you yet?”

“Messina asked a few questions, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” To say Messina was less than impressed by the news story was an understatement. Although more because it was probably giving her an administrative headache than anything else.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you more problems.”

“If it hadn’t been this, Escobar would’ve tried something else, and you know it.”

Horacio hummed in agreement and took a long drag on their shared smoke. He couldn’t argue with that or the unspoken fact that Escobar wouldn’t stop at this, either. The news story hadn’t gained the intended traction and would likely blow over. But then what? It was a tame move by Pablo’s standards, and there was no way this was the end of it. He couldn’t say for sure what was coming next, but he was already bracing himself for the impact.

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After Search Bloc’s flurry of raids, all was quiet for a good week or so until Centra Spike intercepted several calls involving a known sicario, Edgar Prisco.

The transmissions led to a successful op on a pool hall in Manrique, which took out another of the Moncadas’ labs and three of the Prisco brothers.

It didn’t go without a hitch, though, when Steve disappeared by himself into the comunas on the tail of one of the surviving siblings, Ricardo.

Following a frantic few minutes after hearing gunfire over the radio, Javier tracked his partner down, who miraculously was still alive and well despite his best efforts not to be. Whilst things between them had been more strained than usual, Javier obviously didn’t wish any harm to come to Steve. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was sometimes.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Javier threw at him as soon as he’d pulled the car door shut.

“I was this fuckin’ close, Javi,” Steve replied, gesturing with his hand whilst trying to catch his breath.

Javier scoffed without looking at his partner as he navigated the car back to safer territory. “To getting what’s left of your brain blown out? Yeah, you probably were.”

“Oh, come on, I’m fine. I wasn’t even hit. But let’s not tell Connie about this when she gets here.”

“When does she get here?”

“Tomorrow. Well, to Bogotá at least. Hoping to go visit over the weekend, assuming Messina won’t have my balls for it. Or Crosby. Sounds like he’s on the warpath.”

“How d’you mean?”

“Apparently, the suits are getting jumpy about us working so closely with Search Bloc after that news story. Messina’s been holding ‘em off, but for how much longer, who knows?”

“And you know this how exactly?”

“The meeting this afternoon. Y’know, I don’t think those are supposed to be optional. Where were you anyway?”

“I was…busy.” Not entirely untrue. It was supposed to be a quick visit to Horacio’s office but descended into desperate mouthing and groping with his back shoved against the wall between the door and the corner of the room. An apparent blind spot should anyone chance a glance through the glass.

“Convenient,” Steve replied with a wry smile. He let a natural lull in their conversation fall before pressing further. “You sure nothin’ happened that night?”

“Fuck’s sake, Steve, not this again. You don’t actually believe that bullshit, do you?” Heat flooded Javier’s cheeks at Steve’s topic swerve, his shackles instantly raised.

“No, ‘course not! I’m fully fuckin’ aware of what Escobar’s capable of, and lying is the least of it. It’s just, don’t you think Carrillo seems…different these days?”

“Different? How so?” Javier tried to keep his tone casual this time but had no idea if he’d succeeded as all he could hear was his own heart pounding in his chest.

“I dunno, less ruthless, I guess.”

Javier gulped and would have been amazed if Steve hadn’t heard it too. “Probably wants to keep his job this time,” he eventually offered, although his words stuck like sawdust in the back of his throat.

“Hmm maybe.”

Much to Javier’s relief, the subject was dropped, and the rest of the journey back to base was quiet, even if their minds weren’t.

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Steve’s doubts over how long Messina could hold Crosby at arm’s length rang true in the following days when the DEA was told in no uncertain terms that they weren’t to leave base. An instruction that went out the window after Javier received an unexpected call from Gabriela of all people. She didn’t elaborate on the phone, but the urgency in her voice indicated it must be something serious for her to call him at work.

When he arrived at her apartment, it took him a while to notice the young brunette woman sitting on the bed. Her back was hunched, and her head hung low as though she was trying to make herself appear smaller. It was body language he came across often in his line of work. Especially amongst those who were in so deep, he was their last resort.

“She’s a friend of a friend. Please just hear her out, Javi. She’s in trouble,” Gabriela confirmed in response to Javier’s quizzical look. “Maritza, this is Javier.”

Javier looked between the two women, scrubbing his hand back and forth across his upper lip. He was caught between his reluctance to get involved and the fact he had said Gabriela could call him if she ever needed anything. She was only doing as he’d said she could, which was why he sat down in a chair next to the bed and lit up a cigarette. “Who are you in trouble with, Maritza?”

“La Quica.” There was no need for Maritza to elaborate, given the history La Quica had with the DEA. With Steve in particular.

“La Quica? You know him?”

“He wants to kill me.”

Javier did his best to bite back the laugh bubbling in his chest, sensing this might be a waste of his time. “I think you’ll find you’re in good company there. Why does he want to kill you?”

“Because I can tell you where Pablo Escobar is.”

On second thoughts, now she had his attention. “And how are you gonna do that?”

“I know exactly where and when he’ll be tomorrow.”

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Javier didn’t waste any time heading back to base with Maritza’s story, including the detail she was childhood friends with Escobar’s chauffeur, Limón. She had served as a cover in the back seat of Limón’s taxi whilst he drove Escobar around Medellín in the trunk. So that’s how the fucker had been getting about town unnoticed.

“And this Maritza girl just came to you with this?” Steve queried once Javier and Horacio had joined him and Trujillo.

“Yeah, erm, well, through a friend.”

“A friend?” Trujillo gently mocked with a sceptical brow.

“Fuck off, it wasn’t like that,” Javier snorted, hoping his sudden discomfort wasn’t detectable beneath the friendly banter. “It was strictly business.” Despite the fact he was responding to Trujillo, his eyes fell heavily on Horacio.

Horacio got the message, although soon averted his gaze at the unshakeable feeling they were being watched. “I just need to know whether you trust the information, that’s all.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

There was little certainty to be found in their day-to-day lives, but each other’s word was an unwavering constant. In so many ways, it was illogical and a blind leap of faith. But Horacio had made up his mind as soon as Javier spoke.

“Okay then. When Maritza gives us Pablo’s location, I want Centra Spike up in the air to confirm.”

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Javier returned to his desk, waiting with bated breath for his phone to ring. The longer he stared into space with a neglected cigarette burning between his thumb and forefinger, the more his mind spiralled.

This could be it after all these years. After everything they’d been through. After everything they’d lost – and gained. It was almost too surreal to believe after so many near-misses. But in a few hours’ time, it could all be over, and they’d finally be free. To do what, Javier had no fucking clue, though.

He and Horacio hadn’t exactly got to discussing life after Escobar yet. Part of that was fear of tempting fate as much as anything else. Sometimes even just thinking such thoughts was akin to jinxing themselves, so talk of the future had remained the elephant in the room whilst Pablo was still around. But if they pulled this off, they could start to look ahead for the first time. If being the operative word. He couldn’t let himself get carried away at this stage. Anything could happen, and that wasn’t being pessimistic; it was a sobering fact.

He couldn’t say how long he’d been sitting lost in his head when his phone rang. “Peña.”

“9th Street, 98-3.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Javier took the address straight to Centra Spike before stopping by Horacio’s office.

Horacio stood with his back to the door, his attention focused on the wall of awards above him. Even with this limited view, Javier could see how tightly drawn every muscle in his body was. From the rigid hold of his spine to the way his fists clenched at his sides. Not surprising for a man carrying the weight and expectations of his country on his bruised and weary shoulders.

Familiar arms slotted around Horacio from behind, large palms enveloping his waist. Strong, steady and anchoring. They were the still waters to the turbulent riptide surging through his veins, threatening to break him apart from the inside out.

Javier nuzzled himself against Horacio’s shoulder, placing the barest trace of kisses along his neck. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Those whispered words of comfort dripped into Horacio’s ear like warm panela, and he reflexively leaned into Javier with a deep exhale as their fingers entwined across his stomach. Even though this had to be a fleeting moment of calm amid the chaos of war, he could already feel his heart rate beginning to level out. Home.

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By the time Centra Spike obtained the recordings they were waiting for, Messina had arrived from Bogotá. She was soon crammed into a meeting room with Javier, Steve, Horacio, Jacoby and a tape player.

A deathly silence fell over the room as Jacoby pressed play on the tape. Tensions ramped up higher when it initially was too distorted to decipher. But after some minor tweaks, there was no mistaking whose voice it was.

“We have to move now,” Horacio stated.

However, before Javier and Steve could take more than a step, Messina made her presence known. “You two are staying here.”

Javier shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. “No, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“If Crosby finds out you went on another raid, we all get a ticket home.”

“Crosby doesn’t have to know shit!” Steve interjected, his temper already fraying at the edges.

Messina was unaffected by their objections, not even rising from her seat. It was clear her mind was already made up, and she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise. “I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. It’s not negotiable.”

Javier and Steve seethed in silence and shared a look of absolute incredulity. At being mollycoddled like children. At being denied what they had worked towards for fucking years. At being little more than cogs in the machine of American bureaucracy and public relations.

Horacio had kept quiet up until now. There was no point trying to interfere with gringo politics. It was fruitless enough trying to reason with his own government, let alone Uncle Sam. But he wrestled with whether he’d want to even if he could. Whilst he understood the injustice and everything Javier had given to his job, there was no getting around the fact this was going to be a dangerous mission. He’d never voice it, and he hated how selfish it was, but frankly, the decision made the load on his shoulders a hell of a lot lighter.

“We’ll be in radio contact,” he settled for in the end, his gaze landing squarely on Javier. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

Once Horacio had left the room, Javier paced like a caged tiger, hands twitching and his jaw in danger of shattering if he clenched it any tighter. Heated conversations continued around him between Messina and Steve, whose anger was less restrained than his own.

No fucking way was this how it was going down. After everything. They wouldn’t even have this intel if it weren’t for him. He couldn’t let Horacio go out there without him. The countless times they’d fought side-by-side, and now this could be the final showdown, Horacio would have to do it without him. All because of red tape that cared more about the reputation of U.S. officials than it ever had done about the people of Colombia. No, he couldn’t let this go. He had to do something.

Steve and Messina were still at loggerheads whilst Jacoby had excused himself to make a fresh pot of coffee – or possibly something stronger. This was his best chance if he was quick about it, so without a backward glance, Javier let himself out of the room.

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By some miracle, it seemed as though Javier had escaped undetected, but as he neared the end of the corridor, he was halted by a voice behind him.

“I hope he’s fuckin’ worth it.”

Those six small words hit Javier like a freight train. Whilst he was frozen to the spot, it allowed Steve to catch up in no time with long, purposeful strides.

 “Steve, I—what are you—?”

“Oh, come on, Javi. I’m not fuckin’ stupid.”

The echo of Steve’s voice was distant and faint despite its proximity, but Javier’s pulse roared in his ears and galloped in his chest. A vice-like grip had taken hold of his lungs, squeezing each breath of oxygen out of him as if it was his last. No amount of deflection or playing dumb could help him now. The game was up, and there was no way out.

Undeterred by Javier’s ongoing silence, Steve continued where he’d left off. “I didn’t think you were either but guess I was wrong. Him of all people, Javi?!”

Steve was much too close, in all respects. It was suffocating, and without realising what he was doing, Javier grabbed Steve by the collar and pushed him against the wall. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about him!” he hissed out of the side of his mouth.

They stared each other down, breathing hard and neither showing signs of conceding. “Maybe not, but I know you. I know you’ll always follow him and damn the fuckin’ consequences.”

“And you wouldn’t do the same for Connie?” 

Javier hadn’t meant to say that. He should have asked how Steve knew. That was the logical train of thought right now. Along with why it seemed Steve’s main issue with this revelation was Javier’s taste in men rather than his interest in them in general. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want answers to these questions, but an entirely different one tumbled out instead.

Steve was on the cusp of retaliating for Javier bringing Connie into this. But he paused with a complicated expression that Javier couldn’t quite decipher. There was confusion, followed by a slight softening of his features that morphed into something else Javier couldn’t put his finger on. But it made him let go of Steve’s shirt and back away.

“I’m not gonna change your mind.” Steve wasn’t asking or attempting to reignite their argument; he was stating a fact. A realisation that he finally understood everything for what it really was. For what it always had been.

Javier didn’t say a word but looked Steve in the eye and firmly shook his head.

“Shit, Javi.” Steve looked back at the meeting room, then ahead towards the swing doors to the main entrance. “Come on, we haven’t got much time.”

“What? Steve – wait – you know what this means?”

“Of course, I fuckin’ know! But isn’t that why we’re here? This could finally be it, Javi. If we catch Pablo tonight, we’ll be going home anyway, right?”

Javier’s hand cradled the base of his neck and rubbed along the band of tense muscles at the apex of his shoulder. “You sure?” He had to be certain just in case the shit did hit the fan afterwards.

“Look, I – I get it – about the other times – now I know – but you ain’t icing me outta this one, Javi. No fuckin’ way.”

Steve was right. Javier had no right to deny his partner this. This wasn’t about him and Horacio. This was their job and their mission. The whole reason they were even in Colombia in the first place. Steve deserved to see it through as much as he did. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

They made a break for the front entrance, although it was deserted when they arrived.

“We’ll take my Jeep,” Steve said, fumbling with the set of keys in his pocket whilst they hurried across the parking lot. “They won’t have got far.”

It wasn’t long before they had sped out of Carlos Holguín, hot on the tail of Search Bloc and closer than they’d ever been to putting a bullet in Escobar once and for all.

------------------------------------------------------

It was nightfall by the time their convoy left base. Passing street lights popped against the ebony of Horacio’s irises, giving them a fierce wolfish glow. The swooping knot in the pit of his stomach was starting to give way to laser-sharp focus, strategies and tactics. This was where his years of training and experience kicked in. When he had to leave Horacio to one side and embody Colonel Carrillo. When he and his men might end Escobar’s stranglehold on Colombia and finally stop the bleeding.

“We’re on San Juan,” Trujillo confirmed over the radio after they’d travelled in silence for a short while.

“Copy that,” came Steve’s reply. “And we’re approximately 5 minutes behind you, maybe less.”

Trujillo’s head darted round to Horacio in the back seat. “What the hell?! I thought you said they weren’t coming, Colonel?”

Before Horacio had a chance to answer, another voice crackled through the airwaves. “Slight change of plan. I’ll explain later, but let’s get this motherfucker first.”

The knot in Horacio’s stomach re-emerged, pulling and twisting until he feared he was going to vomit. This wasn’t supposed to happen, yet he wasn’t surprised it had. Murphy’s warning was spot-on. Panic rose in his chest at the memory of his dream, even though the rational side of him knew that’s all it was. But still, how could he not fret?

He signalled to Trujillo to pass him the radio. “Keep safe,” was all he said in the end. A standard well-wish to anyone else, but he hoped Javier remembered those were the words he’d used the day Diana Turbay died. A day that still haunted Horacio, but he’d never forgotten the warmth of Javier’s voice.

“You too,” came Javier’s immediate reply. And Horacio needn’t have worried, because of course, Javier remembered.

“Murphy, you’re buying the drinks tonight,” Trujillo joked after Horacio handed back the radio.

“Only if you pick us up some cigars on the way, you cheap bastards.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

No sooner had the words left Trujillo’s mouth than a blinding flash of heat and rush of compressed air consumed them as they came to an abrupt standstill.

It took several seconds for it to register in Horacio’s brain that a car parked to the side of the road had exploded, raining fire and debris down on their convoy. Whilst he tried to gain his bearings and survey the damage, two large trucks pulled up at either end of the street, blocking their way out behind and ahead.

The apartment block on one side of the road was now alive with activity. Several floors up, the windows flew open in unison to reveal a team of men armed to the hilt.

“It’s an ambush!” Trujillo shouted over the radio, although a shower of bullets was already hailing down on them.

The glass next to Horacio shattered, spraying jagged shards over him as he ducked down in his seat.

“Reverse!” he yelled but looked up to see their driver, a young recruit named Rodriguez, was lifeless over the steering wheel.

“Colonel, we need to move!” Trujillo cried over the thunderous and relentless gunfire that had already punctured their tyres and blown out several windows.

Horacio glanced over his shoulder at the carnage of the other CNP vehicles. “My men, I can’t leave them.”

“With all due respect, Colonel, you’re not gonna be much use to them if we stay here. Peña and Murphy will have called for backup. We can’t do much ‘til they arrive.”

Javier. He and Murphy were a few minutes behind them, and there was no way they wouldn’t attempt to intervene, with or without backup. If the roles were reversed, nothing on this earth would stop Horacio from diving in headfirst if he thought Javier’s life was in danger.

Horacio tried to regain focus and steady his breathing amid the chaos thrust upon them out of nowhere. There was no room for panicking or making a wrong move.

The vehicles had thankfully been restocked with supplies that morning. Horacio just needed to be able to reach behind the back seats into the trunk to access them.

He made his move, bullets still flying around them and the tirade only pausing whilst their attackers reloaded.

His hand fell upon several stun grenades, which he hoisted up and divvied up between them. Ideally, he would have grabbed a lot more, but the gunfire had resumed.

“On my cue, follow me. Stay low to the ground at all times, clear?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Horacio managed to slide across the seats to the side furthest from the apartment block. He opened the door as slowly as he could before lowering himself to the floor.

Trujillo made his way from the front to the back of the car and copied Horacio’s movements.

They caught their breath whilst Horacio communicated his plan to Trujillo in a series of well-rehearsed hand signals. This was far from their first shootout, not to mention the countless training drills Horacio had insisted his men run through. Trujillo had never been more thankful for serving under a Colonel who didn’t care if it was pouring down with rain. Or if your unit had stayed up drinking into the early hours celebrating a successful raid. They were put through their paces no matter what.

When the time was right, they launched the grenades behind them and ahead in the path of the truck. Flares of flashing lights and bangs erupted as the canisters hit the ground. It wasn’t enough to harm any potential survivors in the vehicles behind them. But it was enough to throw the snipers off their stride.

During the enforced ceasefire, they made a break for it. Through the haze of acrid smog, Horacio faintly discerned a gap between the wall and the truck. All they had to do was keep going, one step in front of the other. That was until his body jerked forwards as though he was winded, a searing burn radiating across his right shoulder.

Prickling heat branched down his arm, splintering electric shocks like forked lightning striking a tree. It wasn’t his first run-in with a bullet, although those had been superficial wounds. Whilst he was no medical expert, something told him he wasn’t so lucky this time.

“Colonel! Are you alright?”

The discombobulating part of it was Horacio knew that he wasn’t, but adrenaline masked the pain. A fact he needed to take advantage of whilst he was still conscious and could stand. “I don’t know, but we’ve got to keep moving,” he rasped.

Trujillo flung his arm around Horacio’s left side, alarmed by how little resistance his Colonel put up as Trujillo bore his entire weight.

It was only then that Horacio clocked the smear of blood above Trujillo’s eye. “Your head.” His breathing was more laboured as he spoke, and his vision was blurrier than even a minute ago.

“It’s just a scratch, Colonel. We’re nearly there now. Stay with me!” Their movement was hampered by Horacio’s rapidly deteriorating condition, as Trujillo was all but carrying him along.

Horacio was alert enough to make out the screech of brakes ahead, more shouting and gunfire, a familiar presence appearing at his other side.

A loud whooshing noise filled his ears like his head had been plunged underwater. Nothing around him had any solid form. His body was floating and weightless, but his limbs were heavy, stiff and dragging him under. Down, down, down he fell into an impenetrable blackness. An icy darkness he’d never known. Darker than night, darker than any deed he’d committed and darker than the deep crimson currently saturating his uniform sleeve.

He lay at the bottom of a chasm staring up at what appeared to be an endless murky sky, but faint traces of fireflies blinked in the distance. As they drew nearer, they were more like reflections on the water. Or rather a delicate light dancing across precious metal. Precious in every sense of the word.

Memories swirled around him and were accompanied by two voices he recognised even though he couldn’t name them. The second voice brought about a fond warmth. Reliable, loyal, old before its time and wiser beyond its years. The first voice, however, wasn’t so much a warmth but a blazing heat. Passionate, enduring and grounding. Home.

The combination of the two kept him conscious long enough to be hoisted up off the ground into the waiting car. But then followed a cry of pain nearby that wasn’t his own, and all fell dark once more.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

[sukirichi]

suki’s restaurant is now CLOSED! please read updates after the “keep reading” tab!

thank you for the milestone! it’s really such a huge gift to me since i just started posting jjk content here ten days ago (◕ᴗ◕✿) as a small token of appreciation, all requests are now open and there’s a variety of ingredients you can choose from!

masterlist !

meal guides:

🥞 breakfast - fics longer than 1k word counts

🍙 lunch (headcanons)

🍷 wine (nsfw content)

🍰 snack (timestamps, imagines & drabbles)

🍌 thirsts (ramble with me about our smexy thoughts!) for the brainrots

PLEASE READ:

— this event is officially closed. my asks are only open for the previous anons who i’ve asked to do a redo for any mistakes/restrictions in their previous orders.

— new requests will no longer be accepted. or maybe it will because i’m easily swayed with great ideas but it will no longer be part of the milestone event.

— my writing schedule is only during wednesdays, fridays, and the weekends. some works will be written in advance and scheduled to post daily (if possible.)

— please be patient! as you can see, i’ve got a lot of requests, and i really want your meals to be as pleasing and delicious as possible, so please please be patient. i’m training for med school and i’ve got other responsibilities too. if you want to decline a request if you can’t wait for it, that’s fine. 

— i’m human so...my mind can change any minute, and i could no longer be interested in a certain idea. if that happens, i’ll reply to your ask that i won’t be serving your meal anymore even if it’s here on the list below. it sounds kind of rude, but i wouldn’t want to write something i’m not interested in for the sake of pleasing others, because if i write something i don’t enjoy/am not that interested in anymore, then the meal won’t turn out as good had i been passionate for it. it’s going to be done out of forced productivity and the food might taste bad :<

— the last batch of accepted meals will be marked as ✿

— favorites will be marked as ★. because they’re the ideas i find most interesting and the ones i adore the most, they will take longer to be completed. i really want to give my ultimate best on that and just UNLEASH everything i have in me.

how to order!

✦ choose from the ingredients below

✦ choose your own sugar and spice!

✦ choose from the meal guides above! please specify if you want your request to be

✦ send in your request by dropping it on my ask box!

✦ be as descriptive as you want in your request, i want to make a good meal for you!

✦ example of how to order: 

— breakfast: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 for gojo 

— alternative: 9+1+1+song (optional) + dialogue of choice (optional)

— alternative:  breakfast with wine: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for gojo

— optional: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for toji + cookie “starboy by the weeknd” and “you wanna fuck me so bad”

ingredients : au (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ sugar daddy au

✦ arranged marriage au

✦ accidental pregnancy au

✦ high school au

✦ university au

✦ med! student au / doctor! au

✦ lawyer au

✦ detective au

✦ ceo au

✦ sugar mommy au

✦ neighbours au

✦ bed sharing au

✦ roommates au

✦ co-workers au

✦ body swap au

✦ soulmate au

✦ fake dating au 

✦ marriage for convenience au 

✦ bodyguard au

✦ assassin au

✦ married au 

✦ love triangle au

✦ mutual pining au

✦ unrequited love au

✦ meet drunk au

✦ meet cute au

✦ siblings’ friend au

✦ friend’s sibling au

✦ established relationship au

✦ breakup au

✦ barista au / coffee shop au

✦ teacher x student au

✦ royalty au

✦ rentboy au 

✦ camboy/camgirl au

✦ ex au

✦ mistaken identity

✦ fuck buddies au

✦ bartender au

✦ tattoo artist au

✦ apocalypse au

✦ playboy au

✦ stoner au

✦ love at first sight au

✦ hate sex au

✦ sleepover au

✦ worthy opponent au

✦ age gap au

✦ loss of virginity au

✦ gangster au

✦ mafia au

✦ bet au

✦ rebound au

✦ drunk hookup au 

✦ bad boy good girl au

✦ amnesia au

✦ reincarnation au

✦ one of them is famous 

✦ one of them doesn’t know the other exists

✦ one of them is oblivious 

✦ one of them is taken already 

✦ polar opposites au

✦ met at the subway au

✦ library au

✦ football player au

✦ canon au (jjk canon)

✦ send me your own au!

sugar: tropes (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ best friends to lovers

✦ enemies to lovers

✦ lovers to enemies

✦ strangers to lovers

✦ mutual pining 

✦ unrequited love

✦ forbidden relationship

✦ partners in crime

✦ slow burn

✦ send me your own trope!

spice: (for nsfw requests) (max of 3 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— here are the kinks/sexual content i’m comfortable writing about. there’s still a lot of kinks idk about so if it’s not here, please feel free to include the spice in the ask!

✦ breeding kink

✦ size kink

✦ stockholm syndrome

✦ age play

✦ agoraphilia (public place kink)

✦ somnophilia (consensual sex where the other is asleep)

✦ breath play

✦ dumbification

✦ cum play

✦ begging kink

✦ praising kink

✦ thigh riding

✦ collaring

✦ face sitting

✦ 34+35

✦ dacryphilia

✦ disciplining

✦ dirty talking

✦ exhibitionism

✦ role playing

✦ gagging

✦ watersports

✦ send me your own kink!

cherry on top : characters

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, noritoshi kamo, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge

— characters i want to write for but don’t think i can write well (nsfw & sfw)

: suguru geto, naoya zenin

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro toji, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin

additional cookie!

✦ send me a song as a story inspo!

✦ send me your dialogue! (ex. “shut up and kiss me.”)

restaraunt rules : please read!

— i do not write about yandere, stalker, pregnant! reader (unless it’s still until the early age where the belly is still small), non-con, and heavily canon requests 

— nsfw content i won’t write about: period sex, blood play, temperature play, pegging, male characters dressing up as female, monster fucking (sorry, sukuna won’t be getting four arms if you want nsfw for him), bestiality, incest, hypnosis (non-con related)

— not exactly a restriction, but please keep in mind that y/n is still a character for me as the writer. i may or may not add in features that even though isn’t explicit, could be something not suitable for everyone. phrases like, “he peered down at her” sounds neutral enough, but could still be implied that the reader is shorter than the anime character. it’s difficult to write a 100% neutral fic that won’t imply appearance one way or another. if i’ve written anything offensive/upsetting, feel free to tell me about it. i’ll do my best to keep it neutral.

— the reader will always be female bodied in nsfw content

— please be patient! i want to write fics the requester enjoys so i’m going to take my time in preparing your meal!

— i may or may not cook your meal 100% according to your request. depending on my comfort upon the idea, i may have to tweak a detail or two.

— i can refuse your request if i don’t want to write about it for personal or other reasons. i’ll let you know beforehand.

— wine will take longer to be served!

— i will announce if a trope/au/character is no longer open for requests. i feel like some ingredients will be quite common amongst requesters and i don’t want to write for the same thing over and over again. same goes in the manner that if you have a similar request to another, it’ll be fused into one idea/meal.

— if your request contains offensive/uncomfortable content, i won’t even respond back to you. i’ll immediately delete your ask.

— if you still don’t get or are confused by the guides, send me an ask! i’ll happily guide you!

— this event is now closed. i will temporarily be closing my ask box so i don’t get flooded. i’ll open it again tonight for anyone who has questions or just want to drop a message!

hmm...i’m still not sure how to order for my meal.

✧ what if the story/scenario i want isn’t included in the choices above?

— as i’ve stated, please feel free to request whatever you want! the choices are there to give people an idea what they’d like to see, but if it’s not there, you can still request for it as stated in the “send me an au/trope/kink you want!”

✧ what if i don’t have any ingredient, spice, or sugar i want but a song inspo anyway?

— that’s also fine, but it would be preferred if you’re descriptive so your meal could be delivered better and faster. in this case though, i’ll just have to get creative!

✧ what if i want more than one character in the request?

— having others included in the request is fine, but as much as possible, i can only write a maximum of two main characters (the reader excluded)

✧ what if i want to request for the ones you want to write for but you don’t think you can pull it off well?

— just a heads up! i would love to write for them, but because i’m not entirely caught up in the manga, the characters mentioned above aren’t ones i know very well yet. 

✧ not exactly regarding the meal, but i’ve sent you requests from last week. would you still be writing them?

— i’ve received several requests when my bio states that requests are closed. however, because the ideas are actually really precious and i know i’d have fun writing them, i’d still write about them. i just cannot guarantee you’ll receive your meal soon since my requests were closed when you sent them. 

UPDATES:

Day One: breeding kink, size kink, thigh riding, married au, best friends to lovers is NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

Day Two: established relationship au, mutual pining, dumbification, and gojo satoru is NO LONGER AVAILABLE. to the asks that were received before this update, you may check on the requests accepted whether you made it to the cut or not. i’ll update this later. the restaurant will also reach out to you if one of your requested ingredients/spice/sugar/cherry on top did not make the cut. my asks are still open, so please tweak your requests a little bit to what is available! 

Day Two Update 2: Restaurant is CLOSED! spice 6 (somnophilia) is also no longer available! Check the requests accepted to see if you’ve made the cut, the latest and last accepted requests will be marked as ✿! 

requests accepted:

✦ fushiguro megumi

megumi really likes reader and gojo, yuuji, nobara helps him confess

shy megumi who is really flustered and shy around his crush  meals fused into one. read here: not shy

★🥞🍷 40 (tattoo artist au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 2,12,13 (size kink, praise kink, thigh riding) + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy read here: work of art

(★🥞🍷 5 (university au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 12, 3 (praise kink, stockholm syndrome) + virgin megumi) i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 1 (best friends to lovers)

🍷 + 27 (siblings’ friend au) + 1, 11, 19 (breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking) + feral megumi (feral megumi supremacy) read here: unstoppable

🥞 + 3, 38 (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

★ vampire au + 55 (reincarnation au) + 6 (somnophilia) + vampire markings + blood drinking + nursing megumi...or him nursing you? hmm? (STRUGGLE PAANIK) read here: scarlet

✿ 🍰🍷 23, 38 (mutual pining au, fuck buddies au) might fuse it with request 7  MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

✦ nanami kento

jealous nanami with oblivious reader + gojo annoying nanami making nanami confess read here: a little push

comfort & angst fic where reader dates gojo but gojo cheats so she breaks down, leaves him, and nanami comforts reader  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) read here: violet

🥞🍷 + 21 (married au) +  4 (strangers to lovers) + 2, 12 (size kink, praising kink) MEAL U

🥞🍷 + 23 (mutual pining au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) + 1 (breeding kink) read here: like crashing waves

ingredient 6 (med! student au / doctor! au)  + sugar 7 (forbidden relationship) + spices 12 (praising kink) + dacryphilia read here: overtime

✦ noritoshi kamo

fem!dom reader where nori defends his wife from the elders so she gives him the best night + blowjobs + overstimulation + sub! househusband nori + tit sucking spspss (MEAL UNAVAILABLE)

🍷 + 18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining)

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 1,13 (breeding kink, thigh riding) meals fused into one, breeding kink is no longer included | read here: i know

🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” (BIG BRAIN ENERGY) read here: illusion

✦ gojo satoru

serotonin boost for that lovely anon gojo simp 9487 (i’m going to make this special for you because i love you anon) i was thinking maybe gojo comforts his uni!student s/o? just fluff and some cutesy tootsy to relieve your stress! MEAL FUSED WITH SEVEN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” read here

🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) read here: divine

🥞🍷  + 29 (established relationship au) + 5 (mutual pining) no longer included + 6 (somnophilia) + fused with other request that isn’t listed here read here: sweet angel

✿ 🥞🍷 + 29 (established relationship au) + 12,15 (praising kink, face sitting) + reader runs into awful ex and gets worshipped by gojo like they deserve (queen tingz) + gojo comfort read here: breathless

(✿ 🥞🍷 + 12 (bed sharing au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 19 (dirty talk) + magdalena bay : killshot + jujutsu tech goes on a trip, gojo and reader ends up sharing rooms and a twin bed)  i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

★✿ 50,1 (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + spice 8,12 (dumbification, praising kink) wow butterfly anon POPPED OFF | read here: earned it

✿ 33 (royal au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 11 (praising kink) read here: fall from grace

✦ choso my MAN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” + flustered choso + “onii-chan” read here

★🥞 + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + optional wine read here: easy

soulmate au + forbidden relationship MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ inumaki toge

🥞 + 15 (body swap au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) read here: total opposites

🥞 + 10 (sugar mommy au) + 4 (strangers to lovers) BIG BRAIN ENERGY THIS ONE (STRUGGLE PAANIK)  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki...debating whether i should turn into wine HMMM read here: delicate

✦ naoya zenin 🙄

naoya putting reader back in their place, LONG SCHLONG CLUB read here: acquainted

✿ deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink (DAMN THIS ONE GOT ME TINGLING, its going to be consensual tho, we all have consent kink in this house) read here: true gift

✦ okkotsu yuta 

🍷 + 53 (bad boy good girl au) + 8,10 (dumbification) read here: good for you

★🥞🍷 + 65 (both are oblivious) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 6,9,16 (somnophilia, cum play, 34+35) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✿ 🥞🍷 58, 65 (one of them is oblivious, hanahaki disease on reader) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 12 (praising kink + cockwarming) + clumsy first time sex MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ itadori yuuji 

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) (STRUGGLE PAANIK) it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ toji fushiguro

★✿ toxic toji YES + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either (LOL this is so toji, might tweak a little bit) read here: personal disaster

age gap au + size kink, somnophilia read here: shhh

✦ ryoumen sukuna

🥞 + 2 (arranged marriage) + 2 (enemies to lovers) read here: black magic

55 (reincarnation au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) no longer included + unrequited love + home from war inspired read here: home from war: the ending

✿ 🍷 + 38 + master x servant + degrading, edging, begging (oooh degrading aint my kink but let’s see let’s see) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #choso x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #nanami kento x reader #naoya zenin x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki toge #goho satoru #ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

[xiyao-feels]

Part Four: My thoughts on the effects of these changes on our interpretations of the characters, and some miscellaneous final notes

Intro - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

Okay, so. That's a list of changes. What kind of effect does it actually have on our interpretation of the characters?

For JGY, it's perhaps more subtle than you'd think. The complaint from JGY stans about FJ I heard most often, prior to watching it, was that JGY involves NHS in his brother's killing—whereas in MDZS, as shown, if anything he functions as NHS' protector. This is definitely obnoxious, but to my eye the worst changes are the perhaps more subtle ones. The JGY of FJ is significantly different from the JGY of MDZS and CQL in two ways: first, he has more options available, and second, without ever making an explicit claim, the text nevertheless sends the strong message that he is /not actually in danger from NMJ/.

What do I mean about more options? To begin with, he teaches NHS the corrupted SoC. This carries some risk of LXC finding out, and a much greater risk of NHS finding out—as, indeed, he does. I don't see how this could plausibly be a risk worth taking for JGY; the narrative's insistence suggests either that he has some way to mitigate that risk, or that he's secure enough he can afford to be so careless. His ability to achieve such strong, immediate affects via musical cultivation, despite his weak cultivation level, adds to the general sense that FJ JGY is much less constrained than MDZS or CQL JGY, as does JGS' complete absence from the narrative; it would be easy to forget that JGY is under any social/political pressure at all, even though this is a constant theme in NMJ and JGY's confrontations in MDZS and CQL, and the pressure and danger from JGS specifically is central to their confrontation at the stairs. The lack of any hint of or history of disrespect to LFZ from the Nie men, given what we see of their interaction in CQL, is yet another example of FJ ignoring the constraints JGY actually has to work with.

And, of course, FJ suggests that he has the option to actually cure NMJ, when the fact that he doesn't is in my opinion central to the morality of the decision, to understanding JGY's character, and indeed to many of the themes of the text. (In fact as a friend pointed out to me it suggests that NHS or indeed anyone could learn the music to cure him, although FJ does not seem to realize the implications of this itself.)

This ties in with point two: that JGY is not actually in danger from NMJ. We never see NMJ attack him—NMJ's violence is reserved for other people. Furthermore, we see him (and later NHS) stop NMJ's violence by the quick application of the uncorrupted SoC; this includes, as I've mentioned in previous sections, a scene where JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger via cultivation, while in the nearest MDZS scene JGY protects NHS from NMJ's anger very explicitly by being a more appealing target. Watching FJ, it would be very difficult to understand how much danger JGY was actually in, and how much he was a target of NMJ's violence.

Even in CQL, NMJ tries to kill JGY at the stairs, drawing his sabre on him after the stairs kick—and even that first attempted blow, before they exchange words outside, could have caused JGY serious damage. In MDZS, after the stairs—where NMJ would very likely have succeeded in killing JGY if LXC hadn't intervened—though WWX admires JGY's skill in finding the right words to convince NMJ to "give him another chance," JGY is only able to do this by promising he'll do something that would probably get him killed, and then promising NMJ that he can kill JGY if he doesn't do it. Moreover, NMJ ends his own life by kicking down a door to kill JGY on the spot, because he did not like the way he was talking about NMJ to LXC. This is a very, very far cry from anything presented in FJ.

The idea that JGY could actually cure NMJ goes to this as well. NMJ is as violent to JGY as he is because of the sabre curse; JGY's choices are endure this, and hope to survive, or...kill him quicker, and hope to survive. He doesn't actually have a choice that involves not being subject to NMJ's violence. Ignoring this fundamentally changes JGY's character, who is so defined by the constraints under which he suffers, and indeed by the lack of physical security he has until he becomes Jin-zongzhu.

What then about NMJ's character? Honestly I don't even have the words for this; it's a profound insult to his original character. The thing is, it's not just that NMJ doesn't doubt the righteousness of Nie cultivation practices, although he very much does not. It's that NMJ would never do something he secretly thought was unrighteous, never mind /shape his life around it/. If he believed something wasn't righteous, he simply wouldn't do it. This is literally the heart of his conflict with JGY, and it repeats throughout the text again and again.

Further, and less flattering to NMJ: NMJ is absolutely convinced of the righteousness of his own judgement. It's not just that he wouldn't do something he thought in his heart wasn't righteous; he's never the kind of torn he is shown to be in FJ, and he never doubts his own judgement. When NHS challenges him here on whether he's qualified to decide the fate of evildoers, who are after all still evil, part of him clearly thinks NHS has a point. But NMJ absolutely, one hundred percent believes in his right to play—if you'll pardon the phrase—judge, jury, and executioner. It's not just JGY, although it very much is, also, JGY; at no point does he seem to believe anything but that he has the absolute right to kill JGY if he decides to. Indeed, some of his worst violence to JGY is a result of JGY challenging his assertions of righteousness, at the stairs. We see it with XY, both in MDZS and arguably even more clearly in CQL as well: in episode 10 he instantly decides that XY should be executed, and is about to carry out that execution when WWX intervenes—and then he's offended about WWX's intervention! The only reason he doesn't carry out the execution on the spot is MY's argument that keeping XY alive can be used to harm the Wen. And, of course, we see it with his attitude to WQ and WN, although people are so often determined to ignore this. Please note that he argues /against/ JC and LXC's defense of them, both in MDZS and in CQL; if ever there was a single incident that could have changed at all how things came out, it would be the very respected sect leader Nie, whose sect is after the Jin the strongest surviving sect post-Sunshot, speaking out in their defense at the conference convened to determine what to do about the fact that WWX just made off with them.

Now, thematically, I think part of the point of his character is that his inflexibility is...well, inflexible; his condemnation of people who are in bad positions does more harm than good. Returning to JGY for a moment, I also think it's telling that NMJ doesn't take effective action to accomplish his goals re: XY. This isn't even just because JGY killed him—if he had actually killed JGY instead, then he would have found quite suddenly that he'd killed Lianfang-zun, the war hero who killed WRH, his own sworn brother, JGS' beloved son, etc etc etc. It would not have gone well for him. Part of the point is that—in a corrupt system, acting as though the system isn't corrupt will itself lead to injustice. Making NMJ himself knowingly complicit in the corruption of that system rather defeats that point.

I am also, I admit, /extremely/ annoyed that /he/ is offered the understanding that he had no choice because of his position, while JGY's difficulties are ignored, and when a) although from what we see in MDZS it would certainly have been quite difficult, he did actually have a choice b) the movie strongly suggests (with the ready willingness of the Nie men to follow him when he rejects the ancestral method of balancing, their respect for sabre-weak NHS, and the lack of opposition from any other area) that it would not, actually, have been that difficult, socially speaking.

I think in terms of the effects this has on people's interpretations of JGY, probably this makes them think that NMJ at the stairs rejects the specifics of JGY's argument, and contributes to a general lack of engagement with the substance of what JGY is actually saying (and the lack of substance of NMJ's reply). People mostly ignore NMJ's similar stance towards WQ, so I suspect this doesn't have much effect there; I have on occasion seen the claim that he was right to condemn her as well, but I mostly don't think it was coming from an FJ-inspired place.

When it comes to NHS…mmm. As I said, CQL makes him less amoral at the beginning, although it doesn't prevent his total—I'm not even sure you can say 'carelessness towards collateral damage' in the current timeline when from his perspective collateral damage would be a good thing, since it would be blamed on JGY. Not to mention the way he treats QS, what he's implied to do with MS' body... I suspect that FJ!NHS is where you get man-of-the-people NHS, who would /totally/ have built those watchtowers instead of that awful JGY if that awful JGY hadn't cruelly murdered his brother because a) he's Evil and/or b) he's ambitious (and also evil), and what other considerations could there possibly be?

To which I can only say: fucking spare me. I suspect the characterization here of NHS and of the Nie men contributes generally to fandom's idea of a much more gentle and progressive cultivation world than either MDZS or CQL supports.

In summation: FJ is, considered as providing any kind of interpretive light on CQL and/or MDZS characters, a terrible movie. If you are not fully familiar with the relevant portions of MDZS, I don't see how you could come away from this without absorbing significant falsehoods. Although I certainly can't and indeed don't wish to tell anyone what they should or should not consider canon, I do think it's important to know that incorporating FJ into your personal canon is going to result in an extremely different characters than not doing so, and if you want to argue with CQL or MDZS fans about characters' characterizations based on FJ, it's not going to be a very productive discussion for anyone involved.

A few miscellaneous notes:

-The change in the narrative of NMJ's violence extends beyond the replacement of his primary target. In fact, there are three things in particular I want to pull out.

First, and despite his near assault of NHS, FJ!NMJ is portrayed as much less...well, scary, than MDZS NMJ, and even to some extent CQL NMJ. NMJ habitually takes out his anger in undirected violence towards objects—the boulder when he hears his men talking about MY, the boulder(/pillar in CQL) after MY kills WRH, the door he kicks open to kill JGY before he qi-deviates, the table he cracks in his anger around NHS delighting in fans rather than knowing where he sabre is; even, though here at least it is a clear deliberate choice, his burning of NHS' things. In FJ—well, I don't want to say there's none of that, he does at least break NHS' paintbrush and I could be misremembering other things, but it certainly seems a lot less prevalent. And more than that, people simply don't react to him as terrifying! In FJ, NHS after NMJ /nearly hits him/ is still a lot less scared of NMJ's anger than NHS is in this parallel scene in MDZS, where he does not (ch 49):

One day, the moment he returned to the main hall of the Unclean Realm, he saw about a dozen folding fans, all lined in gold, flattened out one next to the other in front of Nie HuaiSang, who was touching them tenderly, mumbling as he compared the inscriptions written on each one. Immediately, veins protruded from Nie MingJue’s forehead, “Nie HuaiSang!”

Nie HuaiSang fell at once.

He really did fall to his knees from the terror. He only staggered up after he finished kneeling, “B-b-b-brother.”

Nie MingJue, “Where is your saber?”

Nie HuaiSang cowered, “In… in my room. No, in the school grounds. No, let me… think…”

Wei WuXian could feel that Nie MingJue almost wanted to hack him dead right there, “You bring a dozen fans with you wherever you go, yet you don’t even know where your own saber is?!”

Nie HuaiSang hurried, “I’ll go find it right now!”

Nie MingJue, “There’s no need! Even if you find it you won’t get anything out of it. Go burn all of these!”

All of the color drained out of Nie HuaiSang’s face. He rushed to pull all of the fans into his arms, pleading, “No, Brother! All of these were given to me!”

Nie MingJue slammed his palm onto a table, causing it to crack, “Who did? Tell them to scurry out here right now!”

Even though he nearly hits NHS, even though he actually kills many of his own men, he is simply not presented as nearly as scary.

Second, and not unrelatedly, in FJ the narrative focus of the consequence of NMJ's violence is on his own pain at his men's death, and NHS' pain at seeing him kill them. In MDZS, this is more complicated. We see, of course, his violence to JGY, and the consequences to JGY of that violence; at the stairs, for example, kicking JGY down the stairs he gives him another head wound to add to the one Madam Jin gave him. Moreover, his increasing rage actually /damages/ his relationship with NHS. We see this notably in NHS' reaction to NMJ burning his things (ch 49):

Nie HuaiSang’s eyes brimmed red. He didn’t even make a sound. Jin GuangYao added, “It’s alright even if the things are gone. Next time I can find you more…”

Nie MingJue interrupted, his words like ice, “I’ll burn them each time he brings them back into this sect.”

Anger and hatred suddenly flashed across Nie HuaiSang’s face. He threw his saber onto the ground and yelled, “Then burn them!!!”

Jin GuangYao quickly stopped him, “HuaiSang! Your brother is still angry. Don’t…”

Nie HuaiSang roared at Nie MingJue, “Saber, saber, saber! Who the fuck wants to practice the damn thing?! So what if I want to be a good-for-nothing?! Whoever that wants to can be the sect leader! I can’t learn it means I can’t learn it and I don’t like it means I don’t like it! What’s the use of forcing me?!”

He then runs off the field and locks himself in his rooms, not even letting anyone in to bring him medicine. The next we hear about NHS is in the next scene, not two months later, when LXC describes NMJ's recent troubles (ch 50): "These past few days, he has been deeply troubled by the saber spirit, and HuaiSang has argued with him again." Now, they clearly continue to love each other, and NHS is clearly devastated by NMJ's death; but in the months leading up to NMJ's death, their relationship was unusually strained, not closer than ever.

Thirdly, I think the narrative ends up distorting the way NMJ's sabre rages work. Not completely—the example where he almost punches NHS is actually a pretty good example—but consider his final violence to his men. He kills them, /not/ because in his rage he feels that killing them would be righteous punishment for whatever they have done, but because he hallucinates that they are WRH's puppets. But I don't believe we see NMJ hallucinate anything until he actually qi-deviates—at which point he hallucinates that they are /JGY/, and while in CQL at least JGY has confessed to the corrupted music before he starts hallucinating JGYs, in MDZS his anger is, again, about how JGY was talking about him to LXC. When NMJ is violent to people under the effects of the sabre curse, it is because he is angry, and in his anger that violence feels reasonable. There is not as far as I can tell anything that suggests that his sabre-affected rages feel differently from the inside than his more regular rages—nor do we ever see him apologize for the harm he does in his rages, precisely because, to him, his rage and hence his subsequent violence feel like entirely appropriate responses to the situation. I think this goes to point two, above; it would be harder to induce sympathy for NMJ if, say, he killed his men because they were challenging him, and at no point acknowledged he has been wrong to do so.

-You could probably do something interesting here with considering this movie as splitting JGY's character between NMJ (the man who makes difficult decisions due to his political position), NHS (the weak but skilled cultivator), and NZH (the loyal and extremely competent subordinate), even as it ignores the much greater difficulty of JGY's position, that his weakness is because he lacked NHS' opportunities and his skill obtained despite lacking them, that unlike FJ NMJ he actually does need to make those difficult decisions to achieve his goals and does indeed achieve them, etc. This is left as an exercise to the reader.

-I greatly resent the clear and extensive visual parallels between NHS' bow to JGY, at the end of the film, and MY's bow to JGS after JGS kicks him down the Jinlintai stairs, and the way the similarity is taken as indicating parallels beyond the visual. This is, first, because their positions are not at all the same. I am certainly not saying NHS' position was in any way comfortable or good; nevertheless, he is at that moment a clan leader who is surrounded by men who, from the film, would not hesitate to die at his command. There is not really anything about the presentation of the Nie men in FJ that suggests that if NHS went outside that room with JGY and announced to them that JGY had killed NMJ and they should attack him now, his men would do anything other than try to kill JGY immediately at his command. This was, needless to say, very much not the position of the young teenager MY, far from home, injured, humiliated, and made a public joke; perhaps more subtle is that NHS' position at NMJ's death, though he is politically weak and though he has just suffered a devastating loss, is still more secure than /JGY's/ at the same, as JGY—far from being a clan leader with the absolute obedience of his men—is not even JGS' acknowledged heir. Indeed, in many ways the focus of NHS' enmity on /JGY/, rather than JGS who commands him, is an extension of NMJ's focus on JGY rather than JGS when it comes to achieving XY's execution, and in both cases extremely advantageous to JGS. Certainly NMJ would not have been able to get away with harassing Zixuan as he does JGY on the matter of XY; likewise, JGS would never have risked Zixuan in an attempt to kill NMJ as he does JGY. The advantage of JGY as assassin is that if he kills NMJ, JGS wins; if NMJ kills him, JGS also wins (an incalculable political advantage); and if he is caught, his background makes him both easily severable and an ideal scapegoat. Also returning to framing of the bow—and while this is much more trivial it is a recurring petty imitation—I have seen matched gifsets suggesting that JGY was also swearing revenge on JGS at this moment.

-The last words JGY says to NHS are "Restrain your grief;" in English of course this comes across as extremely insensitive, but see drwcn's post for some cultural context; it's actually a common expression of condolences.

-I believe this is whence the idea that MY's headpiece in CQL used to be NHS', because we see kid NHS wearing it in the flashbacks; let us say, if you don't feel the need to accept FJ as canon, I don't think you need to accept that, either.

Previous

#fj negativity #long meta #more than one tag could contain #anger burned in his heart #we can't change places

[simsadventures]

Not Me: Chapter 6: Little Too Late

CEO!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary: For the first time in a long time, you and Bucky actually sit down and talk. And you cannot believe your own ears.

Warnings: angst (I mean, what’s new), talk of the past, tiniest bit of fluff

Word Count: 2443

A/N: Bucky’s got some explaining to do, doesn’t he? Let’s hope you all will listen to him :) Let me know what you thought about the chapter, my lovely people! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Nervous as hell, you get out of your car in front of what you called home for the year and something of your marriage. More like hell, you think as you step on the gravel on the road in front of the stairs leading to the front door.

It took you some time to actually reply to James’ message, trying to figure out what game he was playing. You did everything you thought he wanted, and that you needed. You left the house, you promised to go to a divorce lawyer and send him the papers without him having to do anything. 

You knew in your mind that you wouldn’t want anything from his, just peace and quiet and for him to leave you the fuck alone.

But the text he sent you made you confused. He was begging you? He understood something? That was so unlike the James you got to know in your marriage that you couldn’t wrap your head around it. Not that it wasn’t nice, feeling like you were in control for once. Sure. But you weren’t sure how long the power would stay in your hands.

You didn’t understand what he wanted and tried to figure out why in the hell he would actually want to speak to you.

You asked him where thought you should meet, he texted you that any place was good, only not the company. He told you he had a good reason for this, and that he would tell you everything once he saw you. You had two options then: his house or your apartment. And because you wanted to have a free way out, you opted for the first option. Also, you wanted to keep as much distance between the two of you, and you didn’t want James to know where you lived. Nobody knew, and you planned on keeping it that way. Nobody but your brothers, of course.

You slowly walked towards the door, and before you could reach them, James was already standing there, opening the door for you.

He gave you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck as you walked around him, and you frowned at the action. Why did he suddenly seem like a schoolboy, nervous to even look at you? You thought it was another sick way to maybe make you fall in love with him once again and then hurt you even more than before. But you wouldn’t fall for his fake facade. Not again.

Bucky watched you pull out in front of the house, and his heart started beating a little faster. He was actually surprised you even agreed on meeting him, let alone so quickly. He thought it was probably so that you’d have it behind you as soon as possible and you could start a new life, preferably without him in it.

He understood you completely. He looked for more evidence that it wasn’t you playing him, but, indeed, somebody quite different who Bucky trusted all this time blindly. He was seething just thinking about the prospect of it all, but he tamed his emotions. He needed to have a clear head when talking to you so that he could explain everything as best as he could, trying to beg for your forgiveness, even though he was aware of just how slim chances of that happening were.

All he needed was to lay all the information he had on the table, so that you knew what was going on in his head, and that he wasn’t the asshole he tried to make you believe during that year. Touch, he knew, but Bucky wanted to believe that he had enough evidence to persuade you.

When you got out of the car, he saw you, what felt like the first time. You looked so much healthier than when you lived with him, and his heart clenched in his chest. He knew you still had some pounds to gain to be on your normal weight, but at least colour came back to your cheeks, and your hair looked much healthier as well.

Bucky didn’t even realise he was smiling and watching you until you were standing right in front of him, and he diverted his gaze, feeling a like a teenager who has just been caught watching his crush. He scratched the back of his neck nervously and saw the line on your forehead increasing due to your frown. Your face obviously hardened, and Bucky sighed inwardly. So, not to a good start, he thought as he closed the door behind you and followed you to the living room.

When you came in, Bucky expected you to sit down immediately, but you stood, unsure of what to do.

“Let’s sit, Y/N. This is your house as well, you don’t have to stand around,” Bucky smiled warmly at you, but all you gave him was a confused face and a sarcastic scoff that followed.

“This has never been my house. I simply slept and worked here, nothing homely for me here, trust me,” you said with a mock smile as you sat down on the sofa. It used to be your favourite sofa when you lived there, but without the fluffy pillows which were your purchase, it looked a little sad. Just like the rest of the house, but you didn’t want to look around too much.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I don’t want to be here longer than absolutely necessary,” you said coldly as you looked straight at Bucky.

He looked different. You didn’t know if it was because you haven’t seen him for so long, which definitely wasn’t something you were used to, or because of the large blue sacks under his eyes. For a split second, you thought he looked at miserably as you did when you had to live with him. And despite him being the sole reason for your misery, you felt sorry for him, your kind heart having a hard time seeing anyone in distress.

Bucky coughed a little and pulled out a briefcase, giving you a curt nod.

“Right, sorry. This will be a word that I’ll say a lot today, so just bear with me, please,” he said with a sad smile, and pulled some papers out of the briefcase, putting them on the conference table in front of you.

You could see it was a contract of some sort, but because you haven’t seen one in a long time, you couldn’t be sure what it was concerning. It was obviously some kind of a copy, because Bucky, or somebody, highlighted the critical parts with a yellow highlighter. He pushed it to your hands, signalling that you should have a look at the yellow part.

You nodded and skimmed through it.

In case Barnes and Clark’s families connect through marriage, the company cannot be sold to anybody else, nor can any third party take over the company as such. In this case, the founding members of the company stay in leadership positions, able to veto the CEO’s decisions. Further explanation of this clause to be found in section 17, clause 198.

You frowned at it, your eyes looking at Bucky briefly before you tried to find the clause stated in the previous paragraph. But, just like Bucky, you couldn’t find it. It was obviously supposed to be on the next page, but the page simply wasn’t there. The question was why.

“Where is section 17, clause 198, James? And what the fucking hell is this shit?” You said, still not believing your own eyes.

“This is the contract that I signed when I took over the company. I thought I had the original because there wasn’t the usual talk about original and copies and how they should be exactly the same, but I didn’t even think to look for it, to be honest with you. My dad gave me this contract to sign, my fucking dad, Y/N. I mean, I went through it, but I didn’t read it properly, obviously. And I’ve looked through the whole fucking office, and the original isn’t there either, so it must be with either my or your dad,” Bucky finished and looked back at you only to found you staring at him with your mouth hanging open.

You shook your head, trying to get your brain to work.

“Cool, this is horrific, and I would also like to see what the original fucking deal states, but you obviously found out about this only now, so, I’m not really sure how it fits the whole picture,” you said, bidding Bucky continue.

He then told you all about Rebecca and the photos and the videos, how his father made him believe that it was all your doing, and how Bucky never questioned him. You listened to him intently, standing up in the middle of his speech, pacing around the room, your heart beating fast in your chest.

“Why in the hell would you think I would ever do something like this? Don’t you know me at all? James, I would never-“

“Bucky, please, call me Bucky,” he jumped in, and you lost it.

“You fucking made me call you James for the whole marriage because you thought it was more appropriate, I’m not going back to Bucky. You fucking asked for this. You never thought of coming to me with all of that, demanding information?” You were yelling, breathing heavily.

Bucky stood up as well, facing you with a sad face.

“He told me that if I ever confronted you, you would post all those photos online, that you would make Becca’s life miserable, even more than it already is, with all that’s going on with her and the drugs. I didn’t want to take the risk. I was stupid, ok? I was fucking scared and stupid and made your life miserable. I don’t have anything for my defence. I’m the biggest asshole in this whole goddamn world,” he sighed and slumped back onto the armchair.

You were watching him, calming yourself a little. You tried to look at things from his perspective. If it was your brother who was in some shit, and you could save him by something like that… You honestly didn’t know what you would do.

You sat down as well.

“I can’t find an excuse for your behaviour, at least not all of it, James. Even if I could myself in your shoes and understood the turmoil inside you for not being able to talk to me, I certainly don’t understand why you treated me the way you did. The little things, like not letting me work, or sleeping with whom I considered one of my best friends-“

“I never slept with Natasha. I’m not gonna lie, I did sleep with a few women over the year, but it wasn’t as many as I made you believe. I wanted to hurt you, and I thought I would do so by making you believe I slept with somebody else. I know, I’m a pitiful excuse for a man, I know. But I never slept with Natasha, I swear!” He exclaimed, begging you with his eyes.

“What are you talking about? I saw you coming out of the room together, both of you looked like you fucked!”

“We didn’t. Natasha asked me if she could talk to me in private, so I showed her inside the room, and then she was all over me, unbuttoning my shirt, ruffling my hair, kissing my shirt. I tried to pull her away from me, but she was persistent. When I finally succeeded her marks were on me, and her hair also looked a little out of place. I told her that I wouldn’t do that, and we left the room, and that’s when you saw us. I wanted to tell you how it was, but then I realised that I hated you, and so I let you believe that it actually happened,” he whispered the last part, evidently ashamed of himself.

You watched him, trying to find a trace of him lying, but you couldn’t find anything. All you saw was a broken man, trying to prove he wasn’t as big of a piece of shit as you thought. Not that it was helping that much, but there was a part of him, a tiny part, that understood him.

You sighed heavily and dropped your head between your shoulders, thinking. A few minutes passed by as you just sat there in silence, both of you lost in your thoughts.

“Is there a chance of you ever forgiving me, Y/N?” Bucky asked, sounding like a wounded animal.

“Honestly? I don’t know, James. There were times when I thought I was in love with you, and I was so happy when we spent time together again and then you proposed. But then everything changed, and I don’t even know you anymore. I understand that you tried to protect your family, but I thought I was your family as well. I guess I was wrong. So, I don’t know. I’m not gonna give you a hard no because one never knows, but I’m not sure how to go about it all. And if, if I ever forgive you, it will take a lot of time. I’m not sure you have patience enough or if it’s worth it,” you mentioned, giving James the closest to a smile you could muster.

“Fair enough, I don’t even deserve your forgiveness, I know I don’t. But I want to ask something different. Do you want to take revenge on those putting us through this all?”

Your look darkened at the prospect of hurting both your and Bucky’s father. You never had any personal issue with Mr Barnes, but he obviously had one with you. However, your father was something different altogether. He deserved to be dragged through the mud for all he’s ever done to you.

Smirking at James, you nodded your head, already imagining the different ways of going about the whole revenge business.

Bucky nodded back.

“Alright, good. They have no idea that I know this, of that I’m sure. They just think I’m pissed at them for vetoing my vote in the board meeting. Did you tell your father that you moved out?”

You shook your head negative, and Bucky smirked at you. You might not have known him anymore, but you remembered this face. He had a plan on his mind, and there was no way of stopping him. You just hoped that the plan of his wouldn’t drag you through something worse than you have already encountered.

/ Next Chapter >

Not Me:

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[hookedonapirate]

The Dirty Text Challenge

Summary: “I told you, Emma, you should try it!” Mary Margaret screeches through the phone.

Emma pulls the device away from her ear, lest she go half-deaf by the sheer volume of her sister-in-law’s voice. “And I told you, I’m not doing that,” she protests, leaning back against the wall of the corridor outside the restrooms.

“Why not? You’ll be able to see how interested he is without having to tell him how you feel to his face.”

“But what if he's not?”

“Oh Emma, do you really not know your best friend? He’s interested, trust me!”

“Has he said anything to you or David?”

“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you. It just means he’s not interested in getting clocked in the face by your brother.”

Notes: This is a birthday gift for my good friend, @onceuponaprincessworld. Thank you for always being supportive and encouraging and, well, for putting up with me :) Hope you have an awesome day, love!

Inspired by the Dirty Text Challenge on Tik Tok that was trending awhile back, where you send a dirty text to your significant other and record his reaction when he reads it. There was one video in particular that made me want to write this for CS, and it was by realkayjane. She posted a video of her best friend reading a text she sent him in a bar, and then they started dating. It very well could've been staged, or maybe not, I honestly don't know. Nevertheless, I wanted to write it, so here it is. And if you're interested to see what the text says, no worries, I've included a flashback at the end ;)

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for being so kind and for looking it over at the last minute!

Rated: Explicit

Also Available on: AO3 FF.N

Killian’s phone vibrates from his pants pocket for the second time since he’s been at The Rabbit Hole that evening, but he continues to ignore it. What could possibly be more important than hanging out with his best friend at their favorite bar anyhow?

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

“It can wait,” Killian says, waving off her question and taking a swig of his rum. 

“It might be important.”

Killian glances up at her from over the rim of his tumbler.

More important than being with you? 

Unlikely.

His phone vibrates once more, but he still doesn’t move to retrieve it.

She cocks her brow, giving that castigating look. A look that tells him he should answer his phone. 

So he sighs and reluctantly digs it out, seeing three text messages from the same person. 

Unknown: Hey Killian. It’s Tina. David gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.

He groans.

Yes, I do mind. Bloody hell, Dave, why did you have to give her my number?

Unknown: Are you free tonight?

Definitely not.

Unknown: You can come over if you want.

He’s never even been on a single date with Tina. 

Killian thinks about how he will politely decline.

“Who is it? If it’s David, I swear, he better either be in jail or the hospital if he’s interrupting our evening.”

Killian’s cheeks heat with blush, and he has to suppress the smile threatening his lips.

She said our evening .

Killian scratches behind his ear, reluctant to tell her the texts are from some woman David’s trying to set him up with. “Uh, it’s… it’s no one.” 

Emma grins, clearly not buying it. “Doesn’t seem like no one. You’re blushing.”

Not for the reasons you probably think.

He chuckles nervously. “Truly, it’s no one important.”

Emma cocks her head to the side. 

Damn her for knowing him so well. For being able to tell when someone is lying to her. Tina is really no one important to him—he barely knows her, if at all. He spoke to her one time, and that was when David introduced her to him. They chatted for all of ten seconds. So he’s not exactly lying to Emma. But she thinks he’s blushing over the person sending him the texts. She doesn't know she is the one he is blushing over.

He's about to slip his phone into his pocket, but before he can, Emma grabs his arm with one hand and steals the device with her other one. She's so quick and smooth, he doesn’t have time to stop her.

Killian gulps as she checks his phone.

Her eyes light up with amusement when she sees the messages from Tina and reads them out loud. Then she looks up at him, raising her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

Killian reaches over the table and plucks the phone from her hands with a heavy sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend. Your brother is trying to set me up with her.”

She picks up her strawberry daiquiri, knitting her brows in confusion. “Sounds like you’ve already hooked up with her.” She brings the glass to her lips, taking a sip as he watches her intently.

“We haven't even been on one date.”

She nods, lowering her drink as she swallows. “So, are you going over to her place?”

He wishes he could read minds right now because he can’t tell if she’s asking about Tina because she’s just curious or if she's asking because she’s jealous. 

Definitely the first option, he thinks.

He shakes his head. “Of course not.” A small smile plays at his lips. “Why would I go to her place when I’m already with my favorite person in the entire world?”

Emma’s cheeks paint with blush as she sets her drink down and crosses her arms on the tabletop. “Because obviously you’d be getting laid.”

“Well, you know me, Emma. I’m too much of a gentleman to just go over to a woman’s home who I barely know and get my rocks off.”

She smirks and teases him playfully. “I know. So are you at least going to ask her on a date?”

He stares at Emma for a moment, trying to figure out how to properly answer her question without baring his soul to her. So he settles on a flat-out lie. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He hates this. 

He hates not being able to tell his best friend he’s madly in love with her.

And he’d nearly blurted it out over an intense game of Mario Kart a few days ago. 

“Fuck me!” Emma whines after losing another round against him and nearly throwing the controller across the room (she probably would have if David hadn’t plucked it from her hands).

Killian is busy trying to recover from her expletives and how her words had shot straight through him. He knows he should just keep his mouth shut, because, for one... her brother is in the room and two… well, he would very much like to take her up on that offer. No actually, he doesn’t want that, and that’s the problem. He wants so much more than that. He’s had so many fantasies about being with Emma, but they all involve things like taking her out on a proper date, holding her hand, kissing her, making love to her. So no, he doesn’t want to fuck her. He wants a future with her, one which involves being more than her best friend. Gods, he wants so much more than that. But he’s not willing to give up any less than what he already has. So, instead of revealing his true feelings, he covers them up with a playful quip. “Is that an invitation, love?”

The look she gives him makes his heartbeat quicken, one corner of her lips curving up into a shy smirk, her cheeks reddening as he feels David’s stare burning into him.

“Why? You offering?” she retorts.

Killian stares at his best friend in shock, his mouth slightly agape. “Maybe I a — ” 

Before he can finish his reply, David threatens him with a deadly glare and cuts him off. “No, it’s not an invitation and no, he’s not offering,” he answers for both of them.

And that is one of the other reasons why Killian hasn’t had the guts to tell Emma how he really feels. Okay, it’s the main reason. Because not only could it destroy his friendship with her, but also his friendship with her brother. 

Emma scowls at David and snatches the controller from his hands. “Who died and made you king?”

David mimics her in a whiny voice and Emma retaliates by shoving him in the arm. 

“Ow!” He rubs the spot where she'd hit him, and sticks his tongue out at her. “Brat.”

She does it back. “Dork.”

Killian chuckles . He's always thouroughly entertained by their little sibling squabbles. 

“One more game, Jones?” Emma asks him.

And that was that. They played another round, which she won, and neither of them spoke of the words exchanged that night.

Which makes tonight pretty awkward, considering it’s the first time Killian’s actually been alone with Emma since then. Well, if you consider sitting together in a booth at a crowded bar, alone. So to dial down the awkward tension between them, Killian keeps the drinks coming so the alcohol will ease the nerves in his stomach. 

But the problem with alcohol is the effects it has.

The first one is giggliness.

Emma is adorable when she’s sober, but when she’s drunk, she is extra adorable. She can’t say three words in a row without giggling. 

That effect, mixed with the second one, is bound to lead to things he’s not sure he’s prepared for. Especially not while they’re drunk.

Oversharing.

Not that they don’t already know everything there is to know about each other, but when he’s trying to keep his biggest secret from his best friend… well, that presents quite the problem when he’s drunk. At least he still has enough presence of mind to know how much to overshare. 

“Must be nice to have women throwing themselves at you, Jones. I swear, if it wasn’t for my vibrator, I’d probably have cobwebs!” she exclaims over the noisy bar chatter. 

Killian shudders at the images her confession is supplying him with. He’s certainly not imagining her using said vibrator. And he’s fairly certain she wouldn’t have to worry about cobwebs if she didn’t have a vibrator. Emma could have any man she wanted. He’s one of them. “I’m definitely not getting laid as often as you make it sound,” he retorts with a chuckle. “Or as much as I’d like to.”

“Please!” she snorts. “You could have your cock licked by every woman at this bar with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to.”

Testing her theory, he snaps his fingers and looks around. “Where are they, love?” Not that he has any interest to get his cock licked by anyone at this bar. Or anyone, really. Anyone except the gorgeous blonde sitting across from him with the most beautiful emerald green eyes he’s ever seen and a smile that sets his heart on fire as she bursts out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just being honest,” he says before draining the last of his rum.

She taps her empty glass with her nails. “One more round?”

He nods and raises his hand to summon the server.

“But first, I have to pee. My bladder is about to burst.” She rises from the booth, and he follows her with his eyes as she makes her way to the restrooms. 

~*~

Emma’s a bit lightheaded as she leaves the ladies' room, but not nearly as much as she’s led on. She was hoping to drop hints to Killian without repelling him. But she’s afraid she’s completely failing. How does one exactly go about telling her best friend of five years she’s completely in love with him? 

She has no fucking clue.

“I told you, Emma, you should try it!” Mary Margaret screeches through the phone. 

Emma pulls the device away from her ear, lest she go half-deaf by the sheer volume of her sister-in-law’s voice. “And I told you, I’m not doing that,” she protests, leaning back against the wall of the corridor outside the restrooms.

“Why not? You’ll be able to see how interested he is without having to tell him how you feel to his face.”

“But what if he's not?”

“Oh Emma, do you really not know your best friend? He’s interested, trust me!”

“Has he said anything to you or David?”

“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you. It just means he’s not interested in getting clocked in the face by your brother.”

“And if you’re wrong? Then what?”

Mary Margaret sighs. “If I’m wrong—which I’m definitely not—then you can just tell him you meant to send the text to someone else.”

“But who? I just told him I have an exclusive relationship with my vibrator.”

“Then maybe one of your past flings? I don’t know, Emma, you’ll come up with something. But I’m like one hundred and ten percent sure you won’t have to.”

Emma sighs in exasperation and defeat. “Fine, but if this ends badly, I’m only blaming you.”

She can almost hear her sister-in-law’s grin from the other line, even though she can’t see her. “Fine. If I’m wrong, I'll take full responsibility. In fact, if I’m wrong, I’ll buy you grilled cheese sandwiches every day for an entire year.”

Hmmm, that does sound appealing.“With onion rings?”

“I’ll buy you the whole freaking menu at Granny’s if you want.”

“Okay,” Emma laughs. “And if you’re right, what do you want?”

“If I’m right, I will already have everything I could possibly want.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, besides your brother, obviously, the knowledge that you and Killian will live happily ever after, of course.” 

Emma’s heart warms at her sister-in-law’s sentiment. If only love could be that simple. Just offer her heart to Killian and receive his in return. But this isn’t some fairytale or romance novel where the heroine rides off into the sunset with her handsome hero. This is real life. “Okay.” Suddenly the idea of what she’s about to do makes her heart flitter in panic. “So I’m actually doing this?”

“You’re doing this. And you won’t regret it. Now put on your big girl pants and go get your man.”

After they end the call, Emma lowers the phone from her ear and with shaky hands, pulls up her text conversations with Killian. She sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly, her breath wobbly. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she types a text with shaky fingers, erases it, retypes it and repeats that cycle three more times before she’s satisfied with the message. At first, she didn’t want to send anything to Killian that she wouldn’t be able to defend and say it was meant for someone else. But then she thought, screw it. She can blame it on the alcohol. 

For years, she’s been wanting to tell her best friend how she really feels about him, and when she finally scrounged up the courage to tell Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law suggested this hair-brained scheme she came up with after watching these trending Tik Tok videos of women sending their boyfriends or husbands dirty texts in public and recording their reactions. Since Killian isn’t her boyfriend or husband, Mary Margaret thought it would be a great idea to find out whether he likes her or not. Or rather, prove to a stubborn Emma he’s secretly in love with her.

Well, she’s about to find out. Here goes nothing...

She peers around the corner of the hallway entrance and does a quick check to make sure he didn't leave and go into the men's room or something. When she spots him across the room, still sitting at their booth, she sends off the text. Then she quickly pulls up the camera on her phone and starts recording, her heart pounding. It’s pounding so loud she can hear it in her ears over the loud music and boisterous bar chatter.

His phone lights up on the table and he sets down his tumbler to pick up the device.

Emma watches him with bated breath, hoping and praying this wasn’t a mistake. Hoping his reaction won’t be the same reaction he had when he received those texts from Tina. Emma had done her best to hide her emotions when she saw that skank’s text messages. She had to swallow her words and shove down her jealousy, but when she remembered that look of irritation written all over Killian’s face as he read those texts, she realized why he was irritated. Needless to say, she was relieved beyond belief. 

Through her phone, Emma watches as Killian’s mouth falls open, his eyes big and wide as he stares at his screen.

Emma has no idea what he’s thinking right now, but she really wishes she did. Is he happy, excited, turned on? Or is he pissed off, disappointed, disgusted? She’s usually pretty good at reading her best friend, but right now it’s like trying to read a blank page.

He lifts his head and looks toward the restrooms, so she quickly retreats inside the hallway, keeping her phone in place so it’s still recording him. She presses her back against the wall, as though the opposite wall is closing in on her, and she’s trying to draw in as much air into her lungs before she’s suffocated to death. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

What if Mary Margaret’s plan didn’t work? What if Emma scared him away?

Cautiously and carefully, she turns her head and looks around the corner again.

To her utter horror, Killian is not in the booth.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did she send him the text?

In panic mode, Emma brings her hand back and stops recording as she flattens against the wall again and contemplates shooting Killian another text saying she sent the text by mistake. 

She starts typing out a message.

Emma: Sorry, that text was for someone else. Ooops, my bad.

But then she sees the text she'd sent and realizes she made it impossible to say it wasn’t meant for him because of what the text said.

Nope, she definitely can’t talk her way out of that one.

Before she can erase the message and type out how sorry she is, her phone is being slipped from her hands.

She’s about to lose her shit when she looks up and gasps as her eyes meet vivid blue ones. 

Killian’s looking at her with a hungry—no, primal—stare.

And just like that, all of her oncoming anger melts away.

Emma can’t move. She can’t speak, she can’t even breathe. This man has impaired her ability to do anything other than stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. Her stomach is clenching and her heart is racing under the heaviness of his stare.

She doesn’t even give two flying fucks when he slips her phone into his pocket.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he leans into her space and murmurs in her ear. “You said I could have any woman in the bar licking my cock at a snap of my fingers...” His voice is decadent and drops an octave when he speaks again. “What if I told you, you could have one man licking your pussy at the snap of yours?”

She gulps hard and just stares at him in shock. He’s joking, right? But she’s known him for five years and can’t detect a single trace of mocking in his words. 

Without breaking her challenging stare, she lifts her hand. 

And snaps her fingers.

Without hesitation or any preconceived thought, Killian takes her hand in his and leads her into the ladies' room, locking the door behind them. He backs her against the sink and draws her into his arms, a wave of desire so profound sweeping through her, it leaves her trembling in his muscular arms, clinging to his body like a lifeline. When he lifts her up and sets her on the edge of the sink, their mouths find each other, their lips moving with a need that burns like a fire inside them both. She slides her arms around his neck, her lips fused to his, her tongue swirling and exploring his mouth as her breasts are pressed deliciously against his chest. 

Killian holds her flush against him, his tongue mingling with hers in a sensual ballet of lips and flesh that leaves them both panting. She moans softly into his mouth as he rubs at her back, squeezing one of her ass cheeks in his free hand. 

She can’t believe she’s actually kissing Killian. Her best friend. And he is every bit the kisser she knew he would be. His tongue flicks against hers so expertly and he’s groaning, his guttural sounds vibrating through her, shivers running down her spine, her skin tingling all over. Her stomach is coiled in anticipation at the thought of that same tongue on her pussy.

Oh God.

She needs that tongue on her like she needs air to breathe. As much alcohol as she’s had, the only thing fogging her mind is the lust and pleasure coursing through her veins. She’s now drunk on something else entirely. And it’s on the man who is currently breaking the kiss and leaving her a panting, breathless mess as he slides his lips over her jawline and down her neck, the scruff on his chin scratching her so deliciously. 

As she’s still trying to recover from that kiss—as if she could—she’s so glad she wore a dress tonight. As he leaves a trail of kisses along her collarbone, he pulls the straps down her arms, yanks down the top of her dress and pushes her black, lacy bra cups out of the way, exposing her breasts. As he’s admiring her naked breasts in wonderment, as he's squeezing them in his firm hands, making her nipples harden, she's admiring him and blushing profusely.

Fuck.

When he caresses a hard bud with his lips, Emma moans, and when he draws the same nipple into his mouth, she runs her hands through his hair, enjoying how soft and warm his mouth is against her sensitive skin, a breath exploding between her lips. He kisses his way to her other breast, giving the same treatment. She can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and it’s making her so much wetter than she already was. To her relief, he’s grabbing her dress and hauling it up her legs, seeking access she’s definitely willing to grant him. She helps him move the hem of her dress to her stomach, exposing her black, lacy thong. He leaves bruising kisses on her lower belly and inner thighs as he slides her panties off. 

When he’s on his knees and his gorgeous face is between her thighs, he looks up at her, those intense blue eyes stealing her breath as he gently slides his lips up her leg, giving her time to push him away if she desired. A completely unnecessary precaution. 

She leans back, gripping the edge of the sink as she drapes one leg over his shoulder and pushes him to her.

The soft, warm air of his chuckles hits her glistening folds and sends a shiver up her spine. “Patience, love.” He presses gentle kisses to her nub, her folds, and noses her slit, breathing in slowly, taking in her unique scent. Emma’s incapable of being patient, though; she can almost feel his tongue on her as he wraps his arms around her, urging her to lean back a little more so he has full access to her. 

Finally, his tongue hits her flesh, taking a thorough exploration between her folds until he finds exactly what he’s searching for. She dips her head back, hitting the back of it against the mirror, her hands clutching at the top of his head for purchase. Her eyelids fall shut, soft moans pouring from her mouth as his tongue works so skillfully on her bundle of nerves. She opens her eyes so she can watch him as he licks her good and hard, and she lifts one of her legs to the edge of the counter so she’s spread out like a feast before him. She tugs gently on his hair, urging him closer and she can tell he doesn’t mind, because he's growling and puckering his lips, drawing her clit into his soft, warm mouth, making her tremble. It’s the most erotic thing she’s ever witnessed, and she’s wondering who’s enjoying this more, him or her. 

When he glances up, his eyes are boring into hers, and she can feel him smiling against her folds when he sees how wrecked she is with her best friend’s tongue between her legs. Those sparkling blue eyes are piercing through her soul and she can’t find the strength to tear her gaze from his. It’s so fucking hot watching him eating her out. Watching him take his sweet time bringing her close to the very edge before pulling away and then bringing her back. It’s like watching the waves of the ocean moving in and lapping the shoreline before ebbing away. His tongue lapping her up and then withdrawing. In and out, in and out, over and over, increasing in intensity and speed each time, until she’s a complete mess, until she’s arching her back and fisting tufts of his hair and tugging him closer, begging for him to finish her off.

“Killian… please…” she moans breathlessly, helpless against the mirror and completely at his mercy.

The alcohol certainly doesn’t help; it had made her incredibly more horny. Meaning every inch of her is more sensitive. So, Killian suckling on her clit and lapping her up as if his life depends on it is bound to push her over the edge and make her crumble into a million pieces very soon.

And he does so effortlessly.

God, he does.

“Killian!” Emma screams, hoping the loud music and chatter of the bar are drowning out her sounds of ecstasy as she falls apart. She falls so hard, she’s thankful Killian’s hands are gripping her thighs, holding her in place, because otherwise she’d be on the floor right now. Literally.

When she comes back to reality, her body is still twitching. Killian is pressing soft, wet kisses to her nub and each of her thighs, and there’s fire in his eyes as he rises and sucks her essence off his fingers. 

She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her. And she melts again, arousal shooting through her once more. But as airy as she feels, she somehow musters the strength to push him back, fumble for his belt, tug down his pants and sink to her knees.

Holy hell.

His cock is glorious.

Thick and throbbing, pointing at her, almost beckoning her forward. 

“Snap your fingers,” she says, smirking up at him. 

He manages a grin and doesn’t argue. 

When he snaps his fingers, she wraps her hand around his stiff length and strokes him slowly, a deep, soft moan escaping her lips. He feels fucking amazing in her hand. 

He draws in a sharp breath when she kisses his velvety tip. Then she leans in and licks up his entire length, making him gasp. 

“Good… Gods… Emma.”

His thick shaft is glistening with her saliva, and Killian bites his lower lip as he looks at her, trying to hold back the urge to lose himself too soon. She smiles, encouraged by his palpable excitement, and wraps her wet lips around his cock. The tip of him slides easily into her mouth, and she sucks on him greedily, bobbing her head a few times before removing her hand, grabbing his hips and taking him in deeper. Killian lets out a deep, guttural groan, reaching down to cup her cheeks in his hands. Emma hums gently around him while allowing his cock to slide back and forth past her lips, not enough to escape her mouth, but enough to build up some friction. 

“Fu-uck! That feels incredible, love…” he groans, his voice completely wrecked.

The sounds of his breathing grow louder with each passing minute. Her arousal builds inside her again while she takes him deep, letting his belled tip almost slip free from her mouth before taking him in again. She can’t refrain from smiling around his cock, knowing she’s subjecting him to the same torture he put her through. 

Emma massages his balls in her fingers and increases her speed, taking him into her mouth deeper and faster and harder. Killian’s hands are threading through her hair and he’s groaning loudly, thrusting his hips, seeking release. And she’s finally ready to give it to him. She moans around him and takes his perfect buttcheek in her free hand, taking him roughly, letting him fuck her mouth until his hot seed is spurting down her throat and he’s gripping her hair tightly and his legs are shaking.

“Gods, Emma… that was…”

The knock on the bathroom door pulls them both back to reality. Emma quickly swallows his cum down her throat and licks her lips as she rises. They reassemble themselves quicker than they would’ve preferred. They right their clothes, tame their hair and walk out of the restroom like everything’s perfectly normal, ignoring the looks they’re getting from the female patron who’s outside the door waiting to use the restroom. 

Killian and Emma are laughing as he pays their tab and they’re still giggling as they stumble out of the bar.

They take an uber to Killian’s apartment and the keys he drops on the floor is only the beginning of the trail they leave behind as they make their way to his bedroom. A jacket, one shoe, Killian’s sweater, another shoe, another jacket, her bra, her dress, her wet panties… they don’t even break the kiss to fling their clothes to the floor, and their lips are still connected when they make it to the room and fall into Killian’s bed.

Emma can’t believe that after five years she’s finally making love to this man, making love several times in several different positions, and when they’re both completely sapped, their heads are falling against the pillows and he’s kissing the back of her hand and asking her on a date.

~*~

Once they're not both in bed or out on their first official date (they wait until they go back to her place to begin any more enjoyable activities this time), Emma finally gets to watch the video of Killian’s reaction to the dirty text she’d sent him two days prior. 

And what she sees fills her with so much happiness, she can’t stop smiling.

And when she uploads the video on Tik Tok, it goes viral.

~*~

Killian sighs heavily into his hands. He’s such an idiot. He needs to just man up and tell Emma how he feels. But if it were really that easy, then he would’ve done it five years ago, right?

The sound of his phone vibrating against the table drags him from his reverie and he lifts his face from his hands and picks up his phone. 

It’s a text message from Emma.

Emma: I have a confession. I didn’t actually have to pee. All that talk of licking your cock made me so wet. Made it difficult to sit across from you instead of crawling underneath the table and licking your cock.

Killian groans, his cock actually twitching when he reads her text.

Fuck.

He’s completely stunned. He doesn’t even know how to react or feel about her text. Is she serious? Is she joking? Is it the alcohol?

A million questions race through his mind and when he’s finally able to peel his eyes from his phone screen, he looks across the bar toward the restrooms. He’s half expecting to find her watching him from a distance to catch his reaction but she’s nowhere in sight. He looks at his phone again and reads her text again. A slow smile creeps across his lips at the thought of Emma crawling underneath the table to suck him off.

Bloody hell.

Suddenly he feels very warm and grabs the drink menu to fan himself. Did they turn on the heat in here?

He blows out a laden breath and slips the phone into his pocket, trying to recover from how turned on he is. The thought of Emma’s sweet, pink lips wrapped around his hard, aching cock makes him painfully hard. And he’s pretty sure his arousal is written all over his face. But he also wonders what this means. 

Was she sending him an invitation?

Does she want him to take action? Is she wanting him to meet her in the restroom? 

He’s not sure, but he’s not about to let this opportunity slip from his fingers. Killian sets down the menu, drags a hand through his hair and gets up before he can talk himself out of it.

Fuck.

Is he actually going to the ladies’ room to get his dick sucked?

Nah, while the thought of having Emma’s mouth on his cock is awfully enticing, he has other ideas in mind.

As he approaches the hallway, he can see Emma on her phone. He suddenly becomes nervous and completely terrified. 

Holy hell.

Is he actually doing this?

He keeps moving his feet, breaking through his stubborn wall of fear that’s held him back all this time. He breaks through the wall of anxiety and nerves that have weighed him down. 

He takes another deep breath, steps into her space and snatches the phone from her hand, hoping and praying this isn’t a huge mistake.

If it was a mistake, then it was the best mistake he’s ever made. Because not only does he get to be with his best friend—the woman of his dreams—but her brother doesn’t completely hate him. David wasn't happy at first, but he’s slowly getting used to the idea of his best buddy dating his sister.

And Mary Margaret is overjoyed. But she's been acting very peculiar ever since he began dating Emma. Every time they meet Mary Margaret and David for lunch, the petite brunette always says without fail, “Guess what time it is?” After Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes, Mary Margaret always has the same answer to her own question: “It’s time for you to buy your own grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings.”

Which is strange because, being the gentleman his mum raised him to be, he always foots the bill whenever he takes Emma out to eat.

What's even more puzzling is that Mary Margaret suddenly stops saying it after a year.

David's wife sure is an odd one.

Tagging:  @itsfabianadocarmo @ilovemesomekillianjones @onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @artistic-writer @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @superchocovian

Sorry if I missed anyone, I’m very sleepy at the moment and have a long, early day tommorrow, so I’m posting this before I sleep.

#captain swan #cs ff #onceuponaprincessworld #dirty text challenge #cs smut #my fic

[benhardypout-archive]

004. thank you, alex

a/n: so this is one of my Wonty "comfort fics" - so it's far from canon or never followed the original plot - which i would probably never publish (unless there's one i would like to share), but this time in this fic which i titled "Dirty Little Secret", I'm just going to post some chapters which I enjoyed writing. So the number is the chapter of this fic, and this is the chapter 4, hence, 004. Enjoy reading! 🙈

Perhaps, my crush on Monty was getting out of hand.

I flipped through the Liberty yearbook which Tyler lent me only to feast my eyes over the photos of the guy in Jersey no. 32 through the weekend, as I sat on the floor with my back against the bed.

Montgomery de la Cruz, I chanted in my head, reading his name printed in bold letters.

I stopped by a certain picture of his, running my fingers over the glossy paper, tracing his face. Tyler was lucky to have taken this rare shot of him smiling beautifully like this; those white teeth showing. He was leaning back and wearing a blue tank top. For once, he looked really happy…

I should probably ask Tyler the story behind this shot.

My phone rang a message.

I,  mindlessly, searched for it, not keeping my eyes away from the image. I could feel my heart expanding by this simple picture of him.

Bringing my phone to my face, there’s a  message from Alex: U free this afternoon?

Basically, I'm free for the whole day.

I typed a quick reply: Yes.

And not long after, Alex texted back asking us to meet up at this mall, only a five minute drive.

I wonder if this hang out thing meant anything or just platonic. Anyway, Alex seemed nice. I would love to get to know him more and perhaps get acquainted.

Looking back to the yearbook, I'm so tempted to cut the picture. Or maybe I could just ask Tyler just give me this specific yearbook, like a gift.

* * *

Alex took me bowling. And I'm not so good with the game but so far I'm having fun.

"You're so good at this," I said as Alex hit another strike.

He smiled. "Nah."

"Now, don't be modest on me," I chuckled lightly and took a bowling ball from the rack and positioned it on my hand, adjusting to its weight. Walking by the lane, I put on a stance and ran my tongue over my lower lip, aiming for a strike. Not that I'm expecting to hit one, which of course didn't happen. I looked at Alex, throwing my hands in defeat. "No, not good at this."

Alex went to hit next and of course, another strike. He raises both his arms dramatically and spun around facing me, smiling victoriously, cocking a brow.

"I give up!" I chuckled and sat down by the bench.

"You're named Winston for a reason," Alex commented, sitting beside me.

"What does that mean?"

"Winston, like Winner. Root word, win."

I laughed, throwing my head back a little. "Damn. I think I'm not doing my name justice, then."

"Practice makes perfect."

"Let's just eat. I'm starving."

"Sure."

We walked aimlessly along the mall in silence, with a few side comments about the boutiques or the shops we passed on. Then we saw and spotted some familiar faces. Well, Alex introduced me to some of them, simply pointing from afar and telling their names, since I barely knew anyone from Liberty yet, who also worked here.

Then my stomach decided to embarrass me and did a growl as we reached the food court.

“Someone’s whining,” Alex retorted.

“I know right.”

Since it’s the afternoon, there’s a lot of tables to choose from, not to mention, stalls without queues. A lot of options for us. But we just settled on some corn dogs.

"We should see some movie some time," Alex suggested. "How about tomorrow?"

"Oh, okay." I thought back if I had plans. Is looking at pictures of Monty in the yearbook counted as one?

He smiled and told me the time and rendezvous. And then added, "I-it's a date,"

I blinked. "A d-date?"

"I meant friendly date," he quickly clarified, faking a smile. I could see dejection in his eyes.

I wanted to apologize but perhaps I’m just overthinking the situation and putting meaning on how Alex was acting the past days. I may try to brush it off and act like I’m not noticing anything, but it’s there. Yet, he said so himself ‘friendly date’, maybe he really just meant us to be friendly.

"So you like someone else?" Alex asked after a moment which of course caught me off guard. I should’ve expected that question to come. I almost coughed my Coke out. Good thing, I had swallowed it down. My heart began to skip.

Should I tell him?

I avoided his gaze, and took another sip on my drink. "Uhm… yes," I said in a low voice.

"Oh…. right. Of course."

"Alex-"

"I-I'm just asking," Alex cut me off. Though, I’m afraid I’m already ruining this budding friendship and it’s the last thing I wanted. But, if he ever decides and calls off our little friendly movie date, I'd understand.

"I… Maybe I just need some company," he went on, resting his arms on the table as if for comfort. "And I… I actually like Zach," he glanced at me.

Zach. Oh. I know him.

"I kissed him," he murmured so low I almost didn’t catch it. Then he snorted, lightly. "But… of course he said he's straight."

"I'm sorry," I said in empathy. I wanted to reach for his hands but then decided against it. Then a scenario flashed in my head where I kissed Monty and then he said the same thing-- Ouch!

"It's all right. Thanks for going out with me, and listening." Alex interrupted, saving me from my disastrous thoughts.

I nodded. But then... he asked the question I’m shit scared to answer.

"May I ask who you like?"

Fuck...

I shifted on my seat. "Oh… uhm…It's..." I looked at him, warily. He was indifferent… yet. Wait till you hear this.

With a deep shaky breath I say, "Monty."

* * *

No words had been spoken since, besides the sensational "What the… fuck?" reaction from Alex who wavered before saying the word. And an awkward "Yep" from me, popping the 'p'.

We just went to our own cars and left after.

I'm sure Alex hated me now, or worse, despised me.

I knew it.

Maybe liking Monty would make you lose some friends-- lose some potential friends, rather. We're not even friends.

Was that what Monty meant when he said I got no friends here, as his own experience? Because people didn't like him?

I received a text from Alex later that night, apologizing from how he reacted. Which relieved me a hundred fold. And then he added…

Alex: But… Monty? I just can't believe it! And I think he's as straight as a ruler.

Winston: It's all right. Still a plastic ruler can be bent.

Alex: Correction. Wooden ruler. It just breaks in half, and he'll just break you.

Okay, I couldn't argue with that.

Winston: I guess. But could you keep a promise not to tell anyone?

Alex: Ok

Winston: Thanks.

Alex: So tomorrow. Same time. Same place. And move on from Monty. There's far better guys than that asshole.

Hope it's  that easy…

* * *

I'm glad that Alex didn't change towards me. He still smiled and spoke to me as if I didn't tell him something, which he found horrible.

After buying two movie tickets, we went to the snack bar to buy some popcorn.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me." I heard Alex mutter under his breath, causing me to turn and follow his gaze, only for my world to stop, seeing Monty by the entrance.

I forgot the ability to move until Alex nudged me. I blinked and turned to him. He has this amused smile.

"Seriously, Winston, close your fucking mouth. Some fly would literally rent in there."

I blushed, and sneaked another glance at Monty, longer than necessary, then to the other jocks he’s with. They’re standing by the ticket booth. I shifted closer to Alex and poked his side. "Zach's among them."

"I know. I hate it." Alex then stepped forward as it's our turn. "Two medium-sized popcorn please. Plain... And two cokes?" He told the guy behind the counter and turned to me.

"Coke," I confirmed.

And he went on ordering. But half of my attention was on the noise from the jocks. God… I couldn't believe I would see Monty here.

Oh, fuck.

I desperately searched for any mirror or any surface where I could see my reflection and fixed my hair as I saw them making their way towards us!!!

"Hi, Alex." Zach said beside me. I, discreetly, give Alex another nudge.

Alex barely glanced. "Hi."

"Zachy, I'm gonna have these Hot Tamales," Monty announced, tapping his fingers on the glass display counters, pointing over the Hot Tamales candy bars wrapped in red.

He caught my gaze and it was too late to retrieve my eyes back. So, I threw a soft smile at him, hoping I wasn’t too obvious about my loud attraction.

"Hey, Winston. You and Alex on a date?" he asked instead, and I swore I felt blood rush through my cheeks.

"N-no," I shook my head at once.

"What about you and Zach, Monty? You guys on a date?" Alex cuts in.

"Yeah. Actually it's the four of us, Scott and Charlie."

Scott and Charlie smiled and waved, making Alex roll his eyes.

Zach cleared his throat and looked at Alex. I guessed that maybe he wanted to speak to him… alone, so being a good friend as I am, I stepped aside and took the chance to stand beside Monty. But I made sure to be discreet and just tapped my fingers against the counter, my eyes fixated at the menu posted in front.

Zach whispered something to Alex and I could only catch a few words like 'mad' and 'me', giving me enough hint of what he's saying.

I tensed feeling Monty moved closer to me. "Never thought I'd see you here."

I blushed and glanced at him. "Yeah. Small world."

Then he asked me if we’re going to watch the same movie. A horror one.

“I think we should just sit together, then." Monty suggested, glancing over to Zach and Alex. "Especially, it looks like Zach and Alex have something to talk about."

I chuckled, "Sure." Would love to sit next to you.

"Winston," I heard Alex called and saw that our popcorn was ready. I took one last glance at Monty and uttered a "See you later," before making my way back to Alex.

"What did Zach tell you?" I whispered as we made our way inside the cinema.

"He wants to talk. I said yes."

I just hummed.

"Dammit, Winston. I still like him and I hate it," Alex whined a moment later, making me smile.

We took the seat in the middle section, since it's not too far and not too close, and we could watch properly. Different trailers were being shown and I noticed that there were only a few cinema-goers or maybe only few wanted to see this movie.

Later, I spotted Monty and the group inside looking for a seat, so I gave a secret wave at them, specifically, at Monty. He called his friends after he saw me. Then they made their way to us. I hid a smile. My heart wouldn't shut up about it, and it literally wanted to jump off my chest when Monty took the seat next to me.

Calm down, Winston. I’m afraid he could hear it from here, screaming his name.

Zach tried and asked Alex if he could sit beside him, only receiving a nod from Alex. But I could practically read his mind regretting taking the middle seats, when we could just take the space on either right or left wing, and have all the spaces on our own.

"Are you following me?" I heard Alex mumble to Zach.

"No. I… Monty pointed us here and…maybe I did, by deciding to sit next to you," Zach admitted.

I decided and just diverted my attention to Monty and his Hot Tamales. "Does that taste good?"

"You wanna taste?" He gestured one to my direction. I swallowed, not expecting his sudden offer. Or maybe it's because his shoulder brushed against mine.

"N-no. Thanks."

"Come on," Monty began tearing one package open and handed it to me, "Have some."

I glanced at him and reluctantly reached, staring intently at his hand, tempting to hold it.

"No, don't taste that." One of the jocks interrupted. I stopped. "You will get addicted," he added, grinning.

"Oh, fuck off, Charlie," Monty waved. "Come on. Gimme your hand."

"You're not trying to poison me, are you?" I tried to joke.

And I blushed seeing his boyish smile. "Oh no. It's a love potion," he winked.

Now that sent me. If I happen to be an ice, I've melted by now.

You don't need to give me any love potion, Monty. I wanted to say.

With a trembling hand, I held my palm out and he poured some on it. I uttered a thanks and put everything in my mouth, letting it melt in my tongue.

Charlie was right, it's kind of addicting.

"So?"

"I think I'm in love," I blurted, not breaking eye contact.

He looked away.

Oh no! Wrong move, Winston.

"I mean your friend's right. It's addicting."

He turned back to me and smiled. "I know right." He, then, handed me the Hot Tamales. “Here, have it.”

It would be a shame to take his offer down, so I just took it, our fingers brushing; enough to send electricity down my body. I wondered if he felt it too.

Wishful thinking, Winston.

"Why are you taking Monty's food? It might be contaminated," Alex whispered.

I shrugged him off and offered it to him. "You should try."

"No thanks."

I couldn't help but find Alex's distaste towards Monty, funny. Even though I shouldn't. But I'm afraid I might continue teasing him about it.

The movie finally started. And it's supposed to be scary as it's a horror film. But I'm not a bit scared. However, I'm tempted to hold Monty's hand that was on the armrest between us. But more tempted to pull the armrest up and just lean onto him. Maybe act scared?

As he took his hand away to get some popcorn - since I decided to share my popcorn with him and his friends, who I now know the names of: Charlie and Scott - I, sneakily, placed my hand on the armrest in hopes to be held by him.

Sadly, after he took a handful of popcorn he didn't put his hand back, but my hand stayed where it was. And I just forgot all my attempts on flirting.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed.

And I tensed not because the scene was scary but because his hand, finally, landed on mine. I hid a smile. And when I thought he would notice and take it away, he didn't, and just stayed there. Though, I wasn't sure if he was ever aware of our hands, or he's too focused on the movie to even notice.

My heart pounded so loud, I could barely hear the show, and could hardly concentrate on it, blocking everything around me but only his presence. I’m only aware of the warmth and the weight of his hand on mine, making my throat dry. I just dreamt of kissing him, or simply lean on him, and embrace more of his scent.

Ugh! Shut it, Winston. Try and hold yourself together.

But how, when he’s close like this? Needless to say, his hand on mine?

The movie just ended without me really understanding everything that happened.

Monty made some comments about it, asking me some of it as soon as we got out to the lobby. I just nodded along, agreeing with everything he said. But Charlie argued with him and they went on, leaving me completely clueless, even though we all watched it together. I should've tried and focused on the show, so I could have a proper conversation with him. But until now, the heat of his hand pricked on my skin.

"Winston," Alex called, and began to walk. I hesitated and followed him outside, not giving me the chance to say goodbye to Monty and his friends.

"Are you alright on your own?" he asked

I frowned, blinking once. "Y-yeah."

"I need to go with Zach," he glanced at Zach, who’s busy chatting or probably saying parting words with his buddies, and rolled his eyes back to me. "Said he wants to talk."

"Oh. Sure."

"Again, beware of Monty. Don't be fooled by his good looks."

"So, you admit he looks good."

Alex stammered but soon gave up, sighing. "Whatever Winston. Don't say, I didn't warn you."

"Okay. Have fun with Zach." I gave his shoulder a pat. "And thanks for inviting me. I really had fun," I smiled.

Alex had to roll his eyes again. "I think I know why."

#13rwedit #13rw #wonty #winston williams #montgomery de la cruz #alex standall #zach dempsey #13 reasons why #zalex #winston x monty #zach x alex #*writings #*wonty #*wonty:dirtylittlesecret #*excerpt #otp:igotthegoodsideofyou #*2021 #hope you guyss like!!!! ♥

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fanfiction #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse husband is ruining my life #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #corpse angst #angst #request #requests open #x reader

[fandomanon]

i havent posted in so long, whoops....

anyways have some stuff from my dnd group

"So...I know why I'm doing this, but why are you doing this?" Dea asked, as she and ??? meandered about the tents.

"I'm here to cause trouble on purpose."

Dea snorted at that, and conceded her point with a shrug. "Fair enough. We're gonna fuck up whoever stole the tables, right?"

"Oh, absolutely, are you kidding? I will fight whoever stole from Ren. Only I'm allowed to do that."

"Please. You've never stolen from us."

??? huffed, and didn't reply, instead ducking into yet another tent.

Which was, luckily, the store that had clearly stolen the Izumi tables.

And, to make it even better, it was a jewelry store; imagine the fucking /chaos/.

"Hello," the shopkeep said, rather smoothly. "How can I help you?"

"Well, you can start by giving those tables you stole back," Dea said bluntly.

"Yeah!" ??? chimed in, folding his arms. "We're going to take that, now."

The shopkeep didn't look impressed. "Who are you to say that, exactly?"

"Call us concerned citizens. So, you need to give those back, now."

The shopkeep--Kay (who did jewelry, which just amused the fuck out of Dea, honestly)-- scowled, and motioned three men forward. "No, I don't."

??? activated his tiara, the orbs beginning to orbit his head. "Let's fucking go, then."

Dea just rolled her eyes, and waved her hand. The next thing everything saw was one of the tables disappear, the jewelry and stands crashing to the ground.

"I'll just be taking this, then," she said, moving casually to pick up the table, as she sent a message to Ren. Found your tables, at Kay Jewelry.

Ren, on the other side of the grounds, jerked their head up. Thankfully their shop was empty, so they could scribble a note and tie their tent closed. On my way, don't do anything hasty, I have guards, they message back, waving a few guards down.

They were nearly racing their way to the tent, three guards hot on their trail, as Dea skidded to a halt, the table abruptly going back to full size.

Ren spluttered. "What happened? I told you I was getting guards--"

"He didn't want to give your tables back, so I had to take one. I was just about to go back for the other one, but they started attacking, so I had to get out," Dea said, before they were interrupted by yelling behind them.

Two of the men that ??? had not attacked had apparently also gotten guards, and were making their way towards Ren's group.

The guards could see the Izumi ensigna on the table Dea had accidentally dropped when it shifted, and with a few hand gestures, the other guards immediately turned on the men, arresting them.

"Here, Izumi, and, uh, ma'am. We'll carry this table back, and go get your other, okay? Just follow us."

??? still had orbs circling his head when they made their way into the shop.

"Finally," Kay exclaimed, exasperated. "Get this /halfling/ out of my shop--"

"You took my family's tables, you need to return them," Ren countered, staring right at it.

Kay scowled. "Nonsense. These are my tables--the ensigna on them is mearly a maker's mark. I'm not giving them to you."

Ren, sensing an opening, immediately burst into loud, wailing tears. Their head dropped back, and crocodile tears rolling down their cheeks.

Everyone was staring...except for ??? and Dea, who sensed their chance, casually wandering over to the now destroyed displays, and began trying to steal whatever they could get their grubby little hands on.

"F-first you take my--my parents stuff, and now you won't even give it back? T-t-they could be dead, I haven't seen them in so long, and-and you're going to say that I can't have them back?"

If there were guards on Kay's side when they had first came in, Kay had now lost all sympathy.

___

Xander was sitting outside the Izumi tent, looking lost, when Shy walked up, sans cloak.

"Hey," Shy said, nodding at him. "Ren gone?"

Xander nodded back, cradling their violin. "Uh, yeah. Looks like they found their tables."

Shy looked thoughtful, and then shrugged, plopping down next to Xander on the ground. "Alright."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, before they saw the guards, carrying a familiar looking table.

"Huh," Xander said. "Looks like they found them."

"Yep," Shy replied, and they nudged Xander a little, so they could both scoot over, no longer blocking the doorway.

______

"Listen, sir," one of the guards said, folding his arms. "These tables clearly belong to the Izumi clan. You have two options, now. Either you refuse to admit these belong to them, and we go to court, where you'll pay the fines, or you admit they belong to Izumi, and you pay them--2000? No, make that 5000 gold, for emotional damages, and you give the table back. It's your choice."

Kay looked around his shop. There was no sympathy, from anyone, and the only person who could possibly be on his side was currently in a corner, whimpering.

He sighed, seeming put upon. "Fine. Let me get the money."

The guards seemed satisfied, and two of them broke off to pick the table up, as Dea and ??? came forward to coo at Ren, seeming to comfort them. "There, there," Dea said, patting them on the shoulder. "You have it back, now, don't you worry."

Ren nodded, sniffling and wiping their eyes, and while the guards took their table back, and Kay was carefully counting out money for the guards, they went over to the nearly unconscious man, carefully tapping his shoulder, to heal some of the burns.

Dea and ??? exchanged almost exasperated glances, that seemed to say, 'yep, that's Ren for you,' and Kay handed over a bag of gold, almost sulking.

The guards motioned all of them outside. "Right. Izumi, here's your part of the money. I hope you're not too distressed."

Ren wiped their eyes, still sniffling. "T-thank you for your help. We couldn't have done this without you."

The guards looked awkward, now, and a few of them mumbled thanks, before they broke off to go back to patrolling.

As soon as they were gone, so were Ren's tears. "Thanks for finding my shit, you guys."

#lexi s's personal posts #writing stuff for my dnd group

[enkelimagnus]

Target

Bucky Barnes Gen, 1989 words, rated M for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky left home thinking today was an okay day. Turns out it's a very very bad day.

TW: Explicit description of a PTSD panic attack, dissociation and a flashback. If this is possibly triggering to you, please proceed carefully

Read on AO3

Part 8 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

-----------

Bucky hates Target.

To be fair, he hates supermarkets and those sorts of shops in general. They make him uncomfortable. They’re too big and too small at the same time, they are arranged in neat aisles that provide way too much cover for possible assaillants, and they’re noisy.

They’re incredibly noisy, with their fluorescent lights, their fridges that are desperately trying to make the food stay cold, there’s always music and people and the beeping of cash registers, the rolling of shopping cart wheels on the floor, the squeaking of shoes.

The lights are white and too bright, and everything smells too much.

They’re overwhelming to him on the best of days, let alone on bad ones. And he’s terrible at planning his grocery runs, so he regularly ends up without food on a bad day. He manages with take out, but it’s still greatly annoying. On those days, all he wants is to stay home and not have to interact with a single person.

Today’s not a bad day. It’s not a good day either. It’s a medium day, and he’s been watching the entrance for thirty minutes. Humanity’s ultimate soldier and the idea of walking into a Target fills him with so much dread he has half a mind to walk home.

But if he does that, he’s gonna starve until the next shopping trip. That’s not an option.

So he’s stalking the place like it’s the location of his next mission, watching people go in and out, counting the number of them, observing them trying to see if he recognizes any face from the sludge he calls his memories.

They are all regular people, there hasn’t even been a single military-aligned person. He can tell, usually, from the way they move. There hasn’t been anyone he’s pinged as dangerous around since he got here, on the rooftop across from the Target and started watching.

Okay. Perhaps this isn’t just a medium day. He’s being ridiculous.

Sharp wind wraps around him and he can feel himself going a little numb from the cold. A couple walks out holding hands. -2. Someone with short blue hair walks in. +1. Empty bags become full. No full bag is emptied. 21% have given to the person asking for money in the corner. A total of 4 dollars and 78 cents if he’s counting well enough, and he usually is, at this distance. One of the people gave water instead of money.

He could stay here forever, counting people and money and compiling numbers in his head. And he does.

He can barely feel his right hand by the time his phone beeps with a message. He startles, shifting from his rigid position, crouched uncomfortably on the rooftop. His entire body aches with cold and having sustained the same stance for…

It’s dark. Night has fallen. He left his place at 1pm. It’s night. He’s missed hours.

He checks the time on his phone. 7.54pm. He’s missed over 7 hours.

The text is from Sam. ‘Hey man. I’m gonna be in New York next week. What about a beer?’

He doesn’t reply. He never does. Sam doesn’t need him around to fuck up his life further than it’s been fucked since Steve pulled him into this whole shitstorm in 2014. Bucky’s the whole reason Sam’s life has been fucked since the beginning.

He’s too sweet for his own good. That already got him arrested once, got him killed as well. Bucky’s not gonna add to that.

He doesn’t need Bucky and his ‘missing 7 hours because he was watching the Target like a crazy person’.

He slowly uncurls himself from his position. His limbs ache and buzz as he shakes off the numbness. It’s a slow process, and he feels every ache and bee-like sting of it. He’s done this thousands of times, he knows how to bring himself back to peak functionality as quietly as possible.

There are two options offered to him at this moment. Go through with going to Target and getting what he needs or go home and order more takeout.

He’s teetering on the edge of a breakdown, he can feel it. But he’s also still in the sort of state where he’d be able to properly conduct a mission if given the opportunity. He can probably handle Target and make it home before he peaks over. Once he breaks, he’s not going to go outside for a while.

He needs the food.

Target it is.

By the time he’s come to that conclusion, all feeling has come back into the three limbs that are his, and he makes it down the emergency staircase smoothly.

His boots hit the ground quietly. All of the decades of training are in play as he slinks towards the store, a shadow, a ghost. He doesn’t have a cap on and nothing to hide his identity, but he’ll be fast enough and no one will realize what happened. They’ll just think he’s one of the crowd.

The lights are incredibly bright and almost blind him as he walks in. The last hour of his watch has been in relative darkness and the neons assault his eyes right when the music assaults his ears and the smells his nose. It’s a cacophony of sensory messages he struggles to parse so he shuts himself out. His shopping list is memorized.

He knows the layout of the store so he doesn’t double back senselessly, he’s precise and fast. He grabs a bag of dried plums, adding that to the list because he knows he’ll like them when he breaks. Everything is piled in his cart in perfect rows, not a single bit of space wasted.

His footsteps don’t make noise. He doesn’t leave prints behind, thanks to the gloves. He can hear the people around him walking, choosing, listening to music in their headphones. He needs quiet.

It takes him 8 min and 33 seconds before he is at the cash register. He nods at the exhausted girl behind the counter and pays cash, grabbing his bag and leaving the store again.

The air isn’t fresh, it’s polluted and heavy and sharp with cold, but when he inhales, a flood of incomprehensible relief opens.

He doesn’t have long until he’ll break. He needs to be home by then. He starts walking.

Running will put a target on his back, so he just walks briskly, slaloming smoothly between the people who cross his path.

A shoulder bumps into him and it’s a woman, with spidery wrinkles around her eyes and at the corner of her mouth, the thick, brown fur of her coat blending into her brown hair. She has no weapon on her and isn’t trained to kill, he can tell, she’s probably a secretary, in this neighborhood. She offers no possible advantage to his mission. Her eyes are blue as the sky above home in summer and they make him stop breathing for a second. Home. Blue skies, a ferris wheel, hotdogs, a skinny blonde guy by his side, a pretty girl with blonde hair. Words in a tongue he doesn’t recognize, an older woman kissing his forehead and Ma?

“Извините, товарищ!” Sorry, comrade.

Moscow. 1966. Assassination mission, Arkady Shostakov. There are guns hidden under the thick winter coat he wears.

He nods at the woman and keeps walking towards his target.

The house he stops in front of doesn’t look like it belongs in Moscow. It’s a townhouse and it brings phantom feelings of home to him.

His right hand finds its way up the doorpost to the small metal case affixed there. Home.

He made it back. Somehow. He blinks hard. He feels a little light-headed. His breath comes in and out in shallow, quick puffs. He’s not breathing in deeply enough, he’s panicking. He’s breaking.

His flesh hand trembles as he unlocks the three locks of the door and shoves his way inside. They keep trembling as he forces the rising panic to stay away as long as it takes to put the fresh food into the fridge so it won’t spoil on the counter.

His entire body is seizing when he sits down on the floor, back against the wall. His throat is already dry. He should have drunk more.

His chest hurts. There’s something squeezing around his heart, a hand attempting to crush it. He can’t die like that, it’s statistically impossible, but what if it isn’t? What if he’s deteriorating, now that he’s not with Hydra’s techs anymore? What if he’s weaker? He hasn’t been as efficient in the field as he used to be. Maybe he’s just… getting worse.

Maybe they were doing something to keep him alive, and without them, he’s gonna die. It feels like it.

He’s cold and sticky and he wants all of this to stop. It feels like dying. It feels… He’s gonna puke.

He can’t make it to the bathroom, he’s going to make a mess and the whole place is going to smell like misery. He’s useless, he’s dying, the world is ending. Standing back up is difficult. He’s choking on nothing, his lungs won’t expand, his chest hurts . Everything hurts. His ears are ringing worse and worse, he can’t see. He’s shutting down. It’s worse than anything he could imagine.

His right hand shakes so hard it slips on the counter. The left hand… shakes too. His whole body is shaking and he feels vomit rising into his throat. He can’t do anything. He can’t swallow it back down. He has no control anymore. He used to have control but all he can do is throw himself towards the sink.

It burns his mouth when it comes out. He’s crying, he’s shaking, something’s ringing in his ears. He can’t feel his own body. He can feel too much. He hasn’t been drinking or eating enough because quickly, there’s nothing left to puke. But he can’t stop. His body rebels, and heaves out gastric fluids and spit. He feels like his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets with the pressure of the heaving. His body wants to expel something, he can’t tell what.

It lasts forever. He can’t stop. He can’t control. The burn in his mouth is second to the pain in his chest. He’s drowning on air.

Eventually, his body stops trying to puke. He’s left on trembling legs, holding into the counter for dear life. So weak.

He wishes he wasn’t alone. He wishes Steve or his ma would be there to cradle him against their chest and tell him he’s okay. To touch him, reassure him, feed him chocolate or fruits or bread and make him drink a little water. To whisper in his ear that he’s home. He’s safe. He wants to hear his mother’s voice sing him a lullabye like when he was a kid and had a nightmare.

She’s gone. She’s never going to sing him those songs in Yiddish or Romanian again. He’s never going to hear her voice again. He lets go of the counter and lets himself slip to the floor. The tiles are cool against his heated skin. He wishes someone would hold him.

No one’s there. No one’s coming for him.

He doesn’t know when he starts to cry but he realizes he can’t remember what his ma’s voice sounded like. He just remembers she sang and it made everything okay.

He misses her every day. He misses all of them every day.

Steve… He misses Steve most of all. He misses his smile and his bravery and tenacity and everything that made him feel alive when he was around him. He misses knowing he wasn’t alone.

He’s alone now. Steve’s gone. He’s being happy. He’s gone. And Bucky’s still there.

He stays on the floor for hours after that, until he passes out from exhaustion.

Today really wasn’t a medium day.

#jewish bucky series #jewish bucky barnes #bucky barnes #mine #fic #marvel

[ask-sutekinaoaldonza]

//Okay so... I’ve been debating how I should say this for you all since its been more than the ‘couple of weeks’ I said It might be in the last post... ...I am just going to flat out say it since there’s no way to say this without being straight forward about it... Apologies on how rough this is going to sound, I am writing it as I think it out...

I am... not doing well. With Covid19, the election being a fuck all circus on fire with the audience that are just as much of a circus trying to put out the fire as they are pouring gasoline on it, Family right now being not only stressors but also they themselves stressed with the current situation with the world, and with my once love for drawing to relive stress now... becoming as much of a heartache as my anxiety has done to me from past traumas that have been unaddressed... It’s hit to a point where I went to seek some professional help.  ... I’m still having a hard time to even reaching for a tablet pen let alone a pencil to draw- It’s gotten to that point for me. So for right now... This blog is Hiatus. If you want to send asks, I won’t stop you, it will be left open. If you want to PM me, the option is open for you as well. If you want to reach me on Discord, send me a message first cause I’m selective on who I talk to on there for personal reasons... 

To me... If you’d allow me to speak openly... this is very frustrating for me because I keep seeing a pattern where i plan things out for answering all of your lovely asks, to reply back, to design and interact with this community- then I get hit with something that puts everything on hold, time after time again... I know some of you send me positive reinforcement of telling me to get better and to take my time- which I am very grateful and thankful for... then I have that other part of me who has been in the audiences shoes, who wished the artist well but still is frustrated in waiting for content, for them to keep they’re word on the things they were building up to. And- technically- as a Mun I don’t have to explain myself to anyone regarding the blog, It’s Just... I am aware of how it is with this... but I also know its not fair to all of you whose enjoyed the content of Aldonza and what it brings. I am aware that there are those who come on Tumblr and find something that makes there day be a little better via from either a new post or from an old ask my girl answered a while back...     I want to still do that not just for you all but for myself, I’ve enjoyed and loved where this little blog has gotten me and finding common ground with those who have the same spark I’ve had for content and love of creating and story building- ...yet, here I am. Despite having so many ideas and plans for this blog and future projects... I’m here... in this state where I can’t bring myself to even casually doodle something random for my niece. That... This fucks me up, so bad... There are other things of course outside of this but for you all right now, for this blog, that’s all I’ll reveal to you since the rest is pretty personal.

So yes, I and this blog will be on hiatus. And for the time being... I will be crocheting a motherfucking afghan for selfcare relief. I will return with Al and Mouse at a later date... when I am in a better place. Thank you all, so so much. Outside of the few bumps that I’ve had along the way on here. This place and you all have always made me happy. I wish to share the same energy and affection and support that you’ve given me to all of you. Aldonza ain’t going anywhere, you can bet your ass on that. Till next time, or whenever you all want to chat.  - Roscoe the Mun P.S. To make up from all this reading, here be my co-pilot resting cutely, Hotaru the cat.

#Mun #Roscoe The Mun #Blog #update