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helloalycia · 2 months

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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!

also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol

y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name

5 years old.

"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.

I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.

"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"

I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.

"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.

After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.

At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.

I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.

—

14 years old.

"Y/N, I need your advice."

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.

He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"

I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."

He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."

Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"

"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"

At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."

"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."

"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"

He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"

I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."

He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."

"Exactly," I agreed.

He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"

Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.

Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.

Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.

"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?

"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.

She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."

I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.

After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.

"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"

I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.

Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.

It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.

Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.

"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"

Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.

"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.

We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.

If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.

Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose.

"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."

"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"

I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.

Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.

After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.

I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.

Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.

"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.

She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"

"Game?" I asked with confusion.

"My soccer match," she clarified.

"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"

"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."

Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."

They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.

—

Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.

The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."

"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."

I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.

"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"

I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."

"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"

"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.

"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"

All I could do was nod.

"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.

"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.

With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.

She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.

—

It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.

The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.

"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.

"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"

I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."

I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.

"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."

She flashed me a smile before leaving.

Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.

—

15 years old.

I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.

"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."

Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"

I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.

"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.

"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."

"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.

"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."

"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."

"Oh, no, you don't need to–"

"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"

Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.

But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.

"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.

"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.

I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.

"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"

Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.

"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.

She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."

My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.

"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."

Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.

"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."

Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.

"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"

"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."

"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"

"Some, yeah."

"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"

"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.

She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.

After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."

I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.

"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."

Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.

"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.

"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.

I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.

"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.

Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.

"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."

Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.

The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.

The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.

We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."

"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.

"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."

They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.

They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.

We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.

"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.

"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.

After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.

"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'

I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"

"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"

"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."

"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.

"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"

"Oh, I don't know–"

"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.

And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year

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Summary: You thought that dying of exposure was the worst thing that could happen to you out in the desert. You were wrong.

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Language, some very PG 13 smut

Author’s Note: Yes this oneshot was partially inspired by Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood and yes, I'm British so I had to Google what a slugger was. Everyday's a school day folks. It was also partially inspired by that one photo from a movie I've never seen that I used in the banner okthanksbye.

There was nothing coming. Not a single other vehicle had passed since you broke down over two hours ago. The roof of your car was getting pretty unbearably hot now, even through the layers of clothes you were using as a makeshift picnic blanket you could feel it starting to burn your legs. You considered trying to sit inside for a while again, but you had to give up last time because it became like a fucking sauna, and at least up here you were clearly visible to anyone passing.

---

This isn’t how you thought you were going to die. Granted, you’d never actually spent a great deal of time considering it before, but there wasn’t much else to occupy your mind while you slowly baked underneath the midday sun. You looked up and down the road once more, still only able to see a few feet clearly before the rising hot air started to blur and obscure the view. The brown, cracked landscape stretched on and on before bending over the horizon and disappearing out of sight.

You checked your phone once more but, unsurprisingly, service had not magically descended upon you. Glancing over your shoulder at the bonnet, propped open and somehow still smoking, you wondered whether it was a bad idea to be this close to an engine that could probably explode at any second. At least a quick death would be less painful than slowly being cooked alive.

Leaning your head back and squeezing your eyes closed, a new sound caught your attention. Something whirring in the distance. Your head snapped towards it, eyes straining at the horizon, heart jumping when it came into view. A pickup truck.

A sudden burst of energy hit and you scrambled onto your feet, balancing precariously and frantically waving your arms above your head. As it moved closer you started to smile to yourself, overjoyed thinking that you’d soon be somewhere with shade and cold water, somewhere with air conditioning.

Your face dropped, however, when you realised that it wasn’t slowing down. You waved your arms faster. Nothing. You started to jump up and down, shouting as loud as you could.

“Hey! Stop, I need help!”

Your voice cracked as it drew closer. Your arms dropped and you watched, helplessly, as it sped past, too fast for you to even make out the face of the driver. Jumping down to the ground and running into the middle of the road, you screamed after it.

“Fuck you, motherfucker! ”

Bursting with anger, you pathetically kicked a rock, barely managing to muster the energy to move it more than a few feet. That was it, your one chance at rescue, gone. You squatted down, needing to rest but knowing the asphalt would be hot enough to fry an egg. You could feel the sunburn starting to prickle on your arms.

There was nothing else for it now, you’d have to walk. Either you’d come across civilization eventually or you’d just die, both were better options than being found out here as a sun-bleached skeleton in three weeks' time. You grabbed your backpack and all of your remaining water from the car, setting off in the direction you’d been heading before the breakdown. You knew there was nothing for miles in the direction you’d come from, so this was your best bet.

You’d been walking for over an hour when the vague shape of a building appeared on the horizon. You were half-convinced it was a mirage but, once you picked up your pace, the blurred outline started becoming clearer. The rusty old roadside sign eventually came into view and you saw that it was a baseball themed diner called The Slugger’s Dugout . You looked around, there wasn’t a blade of grass in sight. Strange place to play baseball.

You practically ran the final stretch towards it, the taste of dry baked earth caking your throat and tongue as you kicked up clouds of dust. You stopped dead, however, when you reached the edge of the parking lot and noticed that there was just one car sitting outside. The fucking pickup truck. This would be interesting.

You burst through the door and threw yourself at the counter, making the elderly server jump out of her skin and almost drop a pot of steaming coffee.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I broke down,” your throat was so dry that your words were coming out horse and sticky, “do you have a phone? And water?”

She kicked into gear a lot faster than you’d expected after hearing that. She filled a tall glass with tap water and placed it in front of you, patiently waiting for you to gulp it down before reaching three quarters out of the tip jar and pointing out the payphone on the far wall.

“There’s a card over there for a towing company, they should be able to help you out.”

You thanked her profusely, returning the glass and sliding the change into your palm.

You only then realised that, in all the excitement around finally quenching your thirst, you’d briefly forgotten that the person you now hated most in the world was somewhere inside this building. Was it the elderly server who’d abandoned you on the side of the road? Well, the door said they opened at 8am and she was the only employee here, so either she’d been very late for her shift or there was someone else skulking around.

You gave her a suspicious side-eye while you wandered towards the phone but you instantly felt bad about it. The coins clinked as you dropped them into the slot, the dial tone sounding through the receiver. You pressed in the number from the faded business card taped up on the wall. A lady with a thick accent answered the call and, as you were explaining your situation to her, you spotted someone walk out of the bathroom and take a seat in one of the booths.

He looked like a fucking pickup truck driver. Flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, old blue jeans, dirty brown hair slicked back. You could feel anger rising in your stomach as you watched him begin to eat. You were so distracted giving him daggers that you almost missed the lady on the other end of the phone telling you that they wouldn’t be with you until 7pm.

That was the final straw.

You slammed down the receiver, making the poor server jump once again, and marched over to his table, bracing yourself against the seat opposite him.

“Thanks for the help back there, asshole.”

He looked up from his plate and eyed you calmly, staying silent. That just riled you up even more.

“Seriously? I could’ve fucking died out there, you couldn’t have stopped for just a few minutes? What, were you in a rush to get to the bacon pancakes before they sold out? Were you late for the ignorant cunt convention?”

“No.” There was a clatter as he dropped his fork on the table.

“There was another incredibly good reason then, was there?”

“Yeah, actually, cause the last time I picked up a hitchhiker she started smoking crack in the passenger seat then robbed me.”

“I'm not a fucking hitchhiker. My car broke down, did you not see the tower of smoke?”

“No.”

He was lying, the piece of shit was definitely lying.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you got yourself into a situation you weren’t prepared for, sweetheart. Play with fire, get burned.”

You sucked your teeth in frustration and began to storm out, but got distracted by something just beside the door. It was a little area designed for kids to take pictures in, with a backdrop of a baseball field and a wooden bat propped up against the wall. The sign above it read:

Take a swing and make a memory at The Slugger’s Dugout!

Well, if they insisted.

You casually picked up the bat and pushed the door open, waltzing over to the lovely shiny pickup truck glinting under the sun.

Batter up.

With one swift movement, you connected the end of the weapon with one of the tail lights, shattering the glass and watching it splinter onto the floor. It was gloriously fucking satisfying. You heard the sound of the door swinging open behind you almost immediately.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

You twisted around, pointed the baseball bat at him with a smile and winked. “Play with fire, get burned asshole.”

He started yelling wildly but you tuned out, dragging the bat across the floor as you walked away, preparing yourself for the hour-long trek back to the car.

At least you’d be in a better mood for this one.

---

You could only have been walking for ten minutes when you heard a sputtering engine approaching from behind. You didn’t turn to look, you knew exactly who it would be. Your hand tightened around the weapon you were still holding.

The truck pulled up beside you and the passenger window slid down, but you didn’t break stride, walking straight past it without so much as a sideways glance. Out the corner of your eye you saw it begin to slowly roll forwards, eventually matching your pace and cruising beside you

“Hey, Babe Ruth.” You ignored him. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I should’a helped. Can I give you a ride?”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You stopped abruptly and turned towards the window, prompting him to slam on the brakes.

“You really shouldn't be driving with a tail light out, y’know. It’s dangerous.”

“You shouldn't be messing with strange men out in the desert.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” a hint of a smirk crept over his mouth, “but there's bigger assholes than me out here.”

“Doubt it.”

You considered for a second. On the one hand, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of accepting his help but, on the other, it’d be pretty fucking stupid to decline when there was still a slim chance you could die out here. The sun was searing hot now, sweat rolling down your forehead and aches starting in all your joints.

With the bat still gripped firmly in your hand, you reluctantly swung the door open and climbed in. The blasting air-con was annoyingly refreshing. A candy wrapper crunched under your foot as you got comfortable, the faint smell of stale cigarettes mixed with cheap aftershave seeping out of the seat beside you. He offered you a bottle of water, which you eagerly accepted, finishing off half of it without taking a breath.

As the truck rolled away, he turned towards you.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” You nodded. “So where you headed?”

“Let's not small talk.”

“Suit yourself.”

He reached over to the centre console and switched on the radio, turning the volume up offensively loud when he heard whatever generic, god-awful country song was playing. You lost it when he started tapping along on the steering wheel.

“This is worse.”

“You just keep gettin’ burned today, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. You had to sit through three whole banjo-plucking, pickup-trucking, cousin-fucking slow jams before you saw your poor little car approaching in the distance. It had stopped smoking, at least, but you had no idea if that was a good sign.

Your driver pulled off the road and parked up directly in front of the wreckage, giving it a dubious frown.

“How long did they say for a tow truck?”

“Six hours.”

He burst out laughing and opened his door, climbing out of the car. You sat for a few seconds and watched him approaching the open bonnet, very confused, before following suit and exiting the truck.

“Can I help you?”

“No,” he flashed you a smile, “but I can help you.”

After properly securing the hood, he leaned over the front of the car and started tinkering with god knows what, tutting occasionally. You loitered behind him and watched suspiciously. It looked like he knew what he was doing but you didn’t trust him at all.

"You wanna back off a little? I can feel you breathing down my neck."

“What are you doing?”

“Look, I can stand here and try to explain it or I can try to fix it, your choice.”

"Fine," you slinked backwards, "but if this is some kind of eye for an eye, car for a car revenge plan you've hatched, I will fucking come for you."

"That a promise?"

His unexpectedly flirty tone caught you off guard for a second. You tried to think of a witty retort, but all attempts just seemed to die on your tongue. That had never happened before.

It only occurred to you then that, in your new position standing a few feet behind him, you'd gained a pretty impressive view. You tilted your head slightly. Those blue jeans were really working overtime.

"Everything alright back there?"

You snapped out of your daze. "Yeah, what, why?"

"You haven't insulted me in over a minute, thought you might've fainted or somethin'." He stood up and turned towards you with a smile, wiping his hands down the front of his shirt. "You wanna make yourself useful and try to start her up?"

With a brief scowl in his direction, you climbed into the driver's seat and tried the ignition. A slightly smug smile settled on your face when it sputtered for a few seconds and died.

"Try again."

"Might be time to admit defeat my guy." You turned the key once more, it worked. "Holy shit."

"Not bad, huh?"

You were actually incredibly impressed, but there was no way in hell he was going to find that out.

"That depends, will it last?"

He strolled over and leaned over the open driver's side door, shrugging. "Would help if I knew how far you were going."

"About two hundred more miles."

He laughed. "Not a chance."

"Brilliant."

You didn't care. As long as he'd done enough to get you off this godforsaken stretch of road, that was enough. You jumped out and retrieved your backpack and weapon from his truck, pleased that you’d taken a gamble and accepted his help, but even more pleased that you could now drive away and never have to see him again.

Why did god have to give such great asses to such awful people? What a waste.

"Here," he stopped you before you got back into your car and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a slip of paper and holding it towards you, "stop at this workshop. They'll help you out."

"I don’t have any money."

"Well, maybe just tell 'em that after they’ve fixed it up."

"Alright."

You plucked it from his fingers, climbed in behind the steering wheel and slammed the door, so ready for this shit chapter to be behind you. Asshole only moved out of the way after you revved at him a few times, holding his arms out in annoyance and shouting.

"You're welcome!"

You ignored him and drove off. He'd helped you out but, after the shit he'd pulled earlier, you figured this just made you even. No need for thanks.

---

You pulled into The Slugger's Dugout on your way past, intending to apologise, return the bat and pick up the broken glass you'd left scattered in the parking lot. When you got out of the car, however, you couldn't seem to find a single piece of it. He must’ve beat you to it. That explains why it took him ten fucking minutes to come pick you up.

A car horn blared from the road and you looked up to see the hick truck whiz past, probably too fast to clock the middle finger you stuck up at it.

You pulled the stolen baseball bat out of your car and timidly wandered inside, unsurprised at the hostile look that the poor old dear behind the counter greeted you with.

"Just… returning this."

You placed it back where you found it and gave her an awkward smile. Before you could escape, however, she leaned over the counter looking like she was ready to unleash a verbal thrashing.

"Now you look here, miss. I understand that you were upset, I would be too, but he is a good man and he didn't deserve that."

You winced slightly, trying not to come across too argumentative. "A good man who left me on the side of the road to die?"

"I'm sure he had his reasons."

You nodded, too intimidated by her strict demeanour to argue back anymore. Why was she so much scarier than the broad-chested tower of a man you just spent the last hour laying into?

"Do you know him?"

"Not very well, but he used to come in here every single Sunday with his father. Every week I watched him help that old man out of the car and to a table, watched them talk and laugh together for hours. I don't think I've ever seen someone of his age look so happy," her expression changed, "but I haven't seen the two of them for months now. That was the first time he's ever been here alone, I didn’t like to ask what happened."

You nodded again, figuring both of you could guess exactly what happened. If she was trying to make you feel like a guilty piece of shit then she was doing a cracking job.

Personal tragedy aside, however, he still acted like an ass.

After thanking her again for her help earlier, you headed out. There wasn't much more you needed to know about a guy you were probably never going to see again.

---

The garage you’d been recommended was just over an hour away, there was weak service outside the diner so you managed to scope it out on maps. To your great relief, as you drove, the stretching desert started to gradually give way to actual civilization, a small, dilapidated town springing up around you. It seemed like the kind of place where people were born, lived and died without ever leaving. You dreaded how they’d react to a broke stranger turning up and begging for free help.

Eventually reaching your destination, you pulled up into the forecourt, cringing at the sound your engine made as it powered down. There was no way in hell that any self-respecting mechanic would come near this thing without a hefty down payment. Still, all you could do was try.

You left the rustbucket and wandered through the open shutter, looking around for any signs of life, preferably someone in coveralls who looked easily manipulated. There was only one person inside. You couldn’t believe it.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He spun round, a clang sounding when he dropped whatever complicated tool he was holding onto a nearby table. “Hey, firecracker. I thought you’d ignored some great advice there for a second.”

“And I thought I’d finally got rid of you,” you scanned your eyes around desperately for anyone else who looked vaguely useful, “but hey, at least one of us is happy.”

“It’s just me here, darlin’. The other guys are on lunch.”

“Fantastic.”

He met your unimpressed scowl with a wink as he strolled past. “The shitbox out front?”

“Mhmm.”

You weren’t too sure what was happening here. He already knew you couldn’t pay, and he knew how much work that fucking thing needed, so what was his plan? There was very little you could do to repay any kind of debt to him, and even less that you were actually willing to do. You wondered how easy it would be to just do a runner with the car once it was back in working order.

He opened up the bonnet again but barely even glanced over it before turning back towards you.

“It’s gonna be a few hours at least. There’s a bar just around the corner,” he pointed down the street, “if you wait there I’ll come find you when it’s done.”

“Look, when I said I had no money, I wasn’t exaggerating. Apart from a little gas money I think I’ve got about fifteen dollars to my name right now. A beer would cost me over a third of my net worth.”

You were half-expecting him to slam the hood down and tell you to get lost after that, but he didn’t. He just chuckled and shook his head.

“Start a tab, give ‘em my name. They know I’m good for it.”

“That’s a risky offer.”

“Nah,” he pulled a dirty rag from his back pocket and used it to wipe down his hands, “surely the crazy broad who called me a cunt and busted my tail light can’t also have a drinking problem, right?”

You shrugged.

---

The door to the bar was unexpectedly heavy, almost tugging your shoulder out of its socket when you tried to yank it open. You felt a little embarrassed when you noticed a couple heads turning in the direction of the pathetic stranger wrestling with the slab of wood. Once inside, you apprehensively looked around, forcing down a dry gulp. This place was seedy as hell, maybe Bucky really did want you dead.

His idea worked, though, and you managed to set up a tab without any qualms. He must send ladies in here with that line all the time.

You decided to settle yourself on a stool at the end of the bar, reasoning that it might be marginally safer to stick as close as you could to the only staff member in the building. The hours passed slowly. It was almost five thirty when Bucky eventually trudged through the door and planted himself on the stool beside you.

He pointed to your glass. “What’re you drinking?”

“Just soda water, got a long drive tonight.”

“No you don't,” he hailed the bartender, “two double scotches, no ice.”

“What?”

“That thing ain’t gonna be ready ‘till at least tomorrow, midday.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope. Your suspension is more rust than metal.”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep, then?”

He shrugged, picking up one of the glasses that the bartender had deposited in front of you and taking a quick nip. You leaned forward and let your head collapse onto the bar as a wave of hopelessness passed over you.

“Bucky, I am so exhausted. I’ve slept in my car for over a week and I haven’t had a proper shower in twice that.” Your words started to crack as tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t think I can handle this.”

“Woah, hey, don’t cry. It’ll be alright.”

“How? In what fucking world is it going to be alright?”

“Look, you can stay at my place tonight.”

You lifted your head to shoot daggers at him, in disbelief at how he was trying to engineer this situation. “You can’t be serious.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Cause then we’d be even, right? Surely a smashed tail light, a fixed-up car and a place to stay balances out leaving you to die in the desert?” You raised an eyebrow in faint agreement. “Plus I can’t handle it when women cry, if this’ll make you stop then it’s worth it.”

You smiled at him, which was a new experience. Grabbing your glass of golden liquid from the bar, you drank it all down in one, immediately regretting your decision when it kicked you in the back of the throat like a pissed off mule. Bucky laughed at you before standing up gesturing for you to follow him out.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes before he hesitantly piped up.

“So, you gonna tell me why the hell you’re driving through the desert on your own, or am I still in the doghouse?”

“You’re still in the doghouse.” A prompting look in your direction somehow swayed you a little, you were getting too soft. “It’s really not exciting, I just got kicked out of my apartment. I used to have some family out here but we lost touch, now tracking them down is my only shot at avoiding living in my car full-time.”

“I wondered why there was so much crap piled in the back of that thing.”

“Mhmm, everything I own in the world is in that car. Had to sell most of my stuff for gas money, though.”

“That sucks.”

“Yep.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, for some reason now experiencing some pangs of curiosity about your host. “How about you?”

“Me? What d’you mean?”

“Well, the lady at that diner said she used to see you with your dad a lot, but that you hadn’t been in for a while.”

“You two were talking about me?”

“She was talking at me, trying to convince me that I was the asshole.”

“I always liked her.” He smirked slightly, but it faded as he carried on. “My dad died a few months back. It was pretty hard, he was a good guy, helped me out a lot. More than I deserved, anyway."

“Go on.”

“Well, I was kind of an idiot a few years back. I let some shitty friends talk me into some stupid ideas and wound up inside for a few months.”

“Shit.”

“It was, I pretty much lost everything. When I got out I was pretty depressed, so all I wanted to do was get high and sleep, but he didn’t let me. He got me the job at the garage and gave me enough money for a couple month’s rent, to be honest I’d probably be dead now without him.”

“He sounds great.” The two of you exchanged warm glances for a second, but you didn’t want to give him any untoward ideas about the evening, so you continued. “It’s nice when people don’t leave others to die.”

“You have to let that go at some point.”

“I really don’t.”

When the two of you reached his apartment, you jumped straight into the shower, triple checking that the ensuite door was firmly locked before doing so. The place wasn’t nearly as dirty or bachelor pad-esque as you’d expected. Yeah, it was half-empty and hardly decorated, but that was to be expected of any man living on his own. At least it didn’t smell like ass.

Bucky was already knocked out on the couch when you came out of the bathroom, his neck folded in half and his feet dangling over the edge. It was his own fault for only buying a two-seater.

You changed into the t-shirt and gym shorts he’d left out for you, just hoping to god they were clean, and jumped into bed. It was far from perfect but, compared to the backseat of your car, it could’ve been a five star hotel. You drifted off almost instantly.

---

You were woken by a few loud raps on the bedroom door. It took you a few seconds of panic to remember where the hell you were, your head falling back into the pillow once you did so.

“What?”

“Are you all covered and stuff?” The low voice came through the wood. “I really need to pee.”

You let out a groggy laugh. “Go ahead.”

Bucky burst into the room and sprinted over to the bathroom, holding onto his junk like a child about to pee their pants. You would’ve laughed even harder at that sight, but you found yourself a little distracted by the fact that he was also shirtless. You only got a brief glance but, fucking hell, he was build like a brick wall. Suddenly you were wide awake.

You could hear him pissing like a firehose through the bathroom door and sighing audibly when he was finished. He wandered back through after a minute and paused at the foot of the bed.

“How’d you sleep?”

You were trying your very best to stay composed under the circumstances. “Mhmm, good, thanks.”

“Were the clothes I left out okay?”

“Yeah, yep, all good.”

“You alright?”

“Fine. Why?”

“You’re acting weird. Did something happen?” He grabbed a fistful of the duvet and tried to yank it out of your grip. “Did you piss the bed?”

“No I didn’t piss the fucking bed, Jesus.”

“What’s up then?”

You sat up, looking from his face, down to his chest, then back up to his face with a confused expression. He quickly cottoned on to what you were getting at.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I made myself a coffee but spilled it down my shirt, and all my clothes are in here.”

He gestured over to the chest of drawers. You weren’t super convinced by that explanation, it sounded like he was making it up on the spot, but you nodded anyway.

“It’s fine.”

“It is?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good.”

His expression changed. Your heart started thudding, the look he was giving you making you start to break out in a sweat, your toes curling under the covers.

Reaching down, he grabbed hold of the duvet again but, this time, he tore it away and dropped it onto the floor with one swift movement. Moving slowly, cautiously, he climbed onto the bed on his knees, making his way forwards and carefully lowering himself down over you.

Well, you certainly hadn’t expected this. Just a few minutes later the two of you were tangled together so closely that you didn’t know where his body stopped and yours began. The skin on his face and hands felt rough as it grazed over yours, the sensation making you gasp each time you felt it, the deep chuckle that sounded right beside your ear in response making your stomach flutter wildly. As he panted, his warm breath spread over the side of your neck, sending an electric tingle all the way down your spine. This felt good, really fucking good. This might’ve been exactly what you needed.

What felt like hours later, he rolled over and landed with a thud on the mattress beside you, both of your chests rapidly rising and falling in unison. Lulling his head in your direction, he gave you a smile.

“Y’know,” he pushed his words out between deep breaths, “you could stay here for a while, if you wanted to. While you figure things out.”

“Was it that good?”

“Hell yeah it was.”

You laughed at his corny ass. “So, what you’re saying is that you’d be willing to give me a place to stay in exchange for sex? Sounds dangerously close to prostitution.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand so he could look you in the face. “You can stay with or without sex, I just like your company. No point sleeping in a crappy car when there’s a perfectly good bed right here.”

You gave him a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

---

After breakfast, Bucky gave you a ride to the garage in the pickup truck, now complete with a duct tape covered tail light. He said he could finish off the final touches on your car while you waited in the office, apparently the bar wasn’t open this early and there was nothing else to do in town apart from a shitty cafe and a gun range.

The two of you ducked under the half-open shutter and he headed into the back, telling you to wait by your car for a few minutes while he tidied up. The place was pretty small, just one other car being worked on aside from yours. You wondered how Bucky’s dad got him the job here, whether he had an in with the owner or whether he was just that easy a guy to trust. Running your fingers over the tools lined up on the workbench, you thought that maybe you could be happy with a life here, maybe it was exactly what you’d been looking for.

You almost jumped out of your skin when an older, grey-bearded man in coveralls suddenly appeared beside you. He gestured toward the rustbucket.

“This yours?” You nodded politely. “Here.”

He was trying to hand you the keys, eyes glued to the clipboard he was holding.

“Oh, Bucky said it still needed some work.”

He looked confused. “This one? Nah, this was ready to go yesterday. He said you were out of town or something.”

“He said what?”

Grey beard replied but you didn’t hear it, too busy piecing together the events of last night and becoming increasingly more pissed off as you did so. Bucky had lied to you for a quick lay, of course he fucking had. You felt like such an idiot. You snatched the keys and asked the now very puzzled looking man to open the shutter for you, climbing in and firing up the engine as he did so.

Bucky appeared at your window. “What are you doing?”

“Ask your friend over there.”

You gestured over to the other employee, who just shrugged while yanking on the shutter chain, and a wave of realisation washed over Bucky’s face.

“Let me explain.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He banged his hand on the side of the car in frustration, quickly moving round to stand between it and its route to freedom.

You honked the horn. “Move, asshole.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“Why should I? I don’t fucking know you, I don’t owe you shit.”

“Right.” Moving at a lightning pace, Bucky somehow managed to sprint around the side of the car, yank open your door and pull the keys from the ignition before you could even register what was happening. “Get out.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

With a frustrated sigh, he hurled the keys as hard as he could out onto the forecourt. “What’s your plan now, huh?”

You grunted loudly, narrowed your eyes at him and stepped out, marching straight past him and heading outside. He caught your arm before you reached the keys.

“Just stop for a second.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Tough shit. I’m going to talk and you’re going to fucking listen, alright?” His firm tone shocked you a little, it was enough to make you relent just for a second. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have lied. I just wanted to spend some more time with you.”

“Well you pulled that off, so congrats, but now that you’ve had what you were after I’d like to go.”

“It wasn’t like that, I wanted more than that.” He rubbed his forehead. “I want more than that.”

“I’ve heard it all before, Buck. You barely even know me, just let me leave and we can both move on.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re the only fucking thing that hasn’t depressed or bored me since I lost my dad, alright? I know it sounds stupid, but watching you take out my tail light was the first time I’d actually felt alive in months,” he slid his grip on your arm down, taking your hand in his, “and, maybe I’m out of line here, but I think you feel the same.”

You thought back.

Jesus, he was right. That was the first time you’d actually been in a good mood since leaving your apartment. Surely it can’t be healthy to base any kind of relationship on the joy you get from destroying each other’s property and screaming at each other, though? Can it?

In all fairness, he was the only person you’d even met that actually kept you on your toes, and you quite liked that. Usually people just responded to your insults with offence or tears.

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess, but I’m just not sure that-”

Your train of thought derailed completely when his mouth crashed against yours, your words getting swallowed as all of the breath left your lungs at once. You were hesitant at first, but you soon relented, relaxing, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling against him, which he reciprocated.

He pulled away, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “So that’s how to shut you up.”

“Won’t work every time.”

“Worth a try, though.”

---

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luwukass · 3 months

Text

OKAY TRACKLIST BREAKDOWN!!!!

so i have now had breakfast and coffee and my brain is on and FUNCTIONING lets get into this

putting a break here incase youre scrolling and dont wanna read all of this lol

so first things first i was watching tiktok and people were making a big deal about how its split up into sides similarly to midnights now i do believe that taylor posted the back cover of the vinyl and that the cd will be different but i could be wrong. even if it is split up like this on purpose on every physical copy this does mean that it is a two LP album instead of one like midnights

one vinyl (both sides) can hold up to 44 minutes of music on it so we can roughly estimate that the full album will be about an hour and a half long now if each side is 22 minutes long each track on side a, b and c should be about (if each song is in equal length) 5 and a half minutes long. side d has 5 songs on it so some of those might be short to fit in the manuscript

i have also seen people compare this back cover to the back cover of lover which is absolutely breaking my heart and im sure thats not gonna be the last lover comparison i see about this album

okay so lets dive into this track by track

SIDE A

track one: Fortnight (feat Post Malone)

okay so first of all this is obviously not a reference to fortnite the video game but i think all of those jokes are funny as hell. the fortnight shes talking about here is a reference to the measurement of time as seen down below google states that fortnight is a british term for two weeks.

according to wikipedia fortnight is derived from the old english term fēowertiene niht, meaning "fourteen nights".

now onto post malone i actually listen to some of his music from time to time. he mostly does do rap but his most recent album austin (which is coincidentally also taylors brothers name, but is also post malones real name) is listed on google as alternative rock, indie pop and synth-pop. so im unsure of what vibe post will bring to the track. i think its also surprising she placed one of the two collabs as the opening track. i think the vibe for this track will probably be either a story about what happened in a certain two week period or about what is going to happen in two weeks from the songs time standpoint (if that makes sense lol)

track two: The Tortured Poets Department

A TITLE TRACK!!!! now obviously we dont know much about the album yet so we cant really try and figure out what the title track will be about so im just gonna do a little yippee for having a title track

track three: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

this is a Whole fucking title good lord the only thing that really comes to mind when i think of this title is the lyric in better than revenge where she says “soon shes gonna find stealing other peoples toys on the playground wont make you many friends” which is if im not forgetting anything the only lyric as of now where she’s referred to being someones partner as someones “toy” but that lyric itself is a metaphor for relationships being playing on a playground. this will probably be a sad or angry song about how her ‘boy’ goes around breaking/hurting his favorite ‘toy’ aka taylor

track four: Down Bad

okay now down bad if you dont know is a slang term to describe how badly you have fallen for someone (mostly used in a more sexual nature in my experience than romantic) so this song will probably be about how badly she is for the love interest of the song

SIDE B

track five: So Long, London

alright new track five lets go! so this is obviously seeming to be a reference to track 11 on lover, london boy. now like taylor said when she announced it this album has been a secret for two years so we dont know when these songs were written or who they are about but i feel like it is safe to say this song and most of the other will be about said london boy [i personally do not care who a song is about and it is not taylors job to tell us who a song is about and that isnt the point of her music, but i will be commenting on the joe breakup bc that seems to be a large idea of this album so far] i can see this probably being about the break up and possibly sampling some music from london boy like she did with cornelia street and youre losing me

track six: But Daddy I Love Him

okay so the first thing i thought of when i read this track title is the scene from the little mermaid where ariel is fighting with her dad over the eric statue and im gonna be honest i dont remember the plot points in order of this movie BUT i do remember when taylor dressed up as ariel for her new years party in 2019. so given what we know this will probably be a song about maybe her fighting/arguing with her dad over how much she loves the love interest of the song regardless of who he is/how he treats her

track seven: Fresh Out The Slammer

okay so im not sure what this song will be about bc i dont think taylor has ever been to jail before so it would probably be metaphorical type of “im back bitches” type of song im assuming this might be a bass heavy maybe more rock leaning song and if it is a “im back bitches” it might be about the amount of time she was single for with the ‘slammer’ being her old relationship

track eight: Florida!!! (feat Florence and the Machine)

alright so as we all know this album has been in the works at least for two years but we dont know when each song was written so take this with a grain of salt but the tampa eras tour shows were the first shows after the news of the joe breakup dropped. so this song might be about her feelings during those shows. for those that want to know these were the surprise songs for the tampa shows in order.

night one: speak now and treacherous

night two: the great war and youre on your own kid

night three: mad woman and mean

SIDE C

track nine: Guilty as Sin?

okay so my main curiosity about this track is the question mark in the title because guilty as sin isnt much of a thought provoking title to me but that fact that its a question is interesting. the current vibes im getting are that this might be a more sexy song? but i have no idea here

track ten: Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

okay so THIS is giving big taunting energy like “aww who would ever be afraid of little ol me 🥺 youre afraid of me?” which im Hoping thats what the vibes are bc that would HIT but i can also see it being completely different as well

track eleven: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

oh my GOD this one sounds like its gonna be sad. so this is obviously a reference to the common seen online phrase “i can/could fix him” which as ive seen is normally used towards people who are attracted to hot fictional characters that usually have a lot of emotional baggage or are villains (i saw it a lot when ballad of songbirds and snakes came out about young snow) so this song will probably be about her promising that she Can fix him and really will despite ‘him’ being broken or maybe even possibly a bad partner

track twelve: loml

so i saw and rb a post earlier about how its very interesting that this is already an acronym which i completely agree with because taylor knows we are no strangers to turning her song titles into acronyms. so loml does usually mean love of my life but i think because its already an acronym it might be something different (i saw someone earlier say it might be loss of my life instead of love)

SIDE D

track thirteen: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

this one i think will kill me personally. i think this one will probably be about her continuing to go on with life (and possibly the eras tour) post joe break up i think this one will either be a sad song or a light beat ‘picking myself up on my feet’ song

track fourteen: The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

this has so many implications but personally i think the interpretation shes gonna use for this song will be about how the said man is small emotionally and just as a person (i doubt she will talk about physical shortness in height or other areas)

track fifteen: The Alchemy

now im gonna be so real here i have no idea what this one will be about google says that alchemy is an older version of chemistry so maybe she will talk about the chemistry or alchemy she has in her relationships?

track sixteen: Clara Bow

alright Clara Bow! okay so i dont know much about old hollywood so i am NOT the person to deep dive into what this song will be about but all i do know about her is that she was The “It” girl of the silent film era so im assuming this song will probably be like the lucky one and talk about the rise to stardom and being the Biggest Star Of The Time

track seventeen(bonus track): The Manuscript

alright so after looking at the definition of a manuscript this is the PERFECT bonus track?!!?!?! so a manuscript is normally a piece of work that is written or typed out but isnt officially published which is just genius for having it be a bonus track that probably wont be on streaming (if not for a long time) i have no idea what itll be about but i love that mastermind

that’s pretty much all of my thoughts as of currently PLEASE let me know what yall think and what theories yall have for this album i am SO excited for april 19th 💕

#my posts 💕#taylor swift #swiftie #swifties #taylor swift theories #clowning 🤡#ttpd #the tortured poets department

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lightflame · 25 days

Text

Tagged by @bagadew (Also tagging in @waermeflasche because you tagged me weeks ago and I didn't get back to you)

Last song I listened to: Soap by The Oh Hellos. I burn CDs and listen to them in my car. (The first few I tried to give themes and titles, and select the perfect song orders, but ended up kind of bad and the other was cursed and wouldn't play even though I remade it three times, so I just switched to throwing a ton of songs together on "Random Mixes" and enjoying.) I was listening to my very first random mix on the drive home from work and this one came up. It's a pretty snazzy song. I think Theseus and Hello, My Old Heart are my favourites from the band.

Last book I read: Can I do a couple? I just recently finished Play of Shadows by Sebastien de Castell. It's the first book of Court of Shadows, the sequel series to his Greatcoats series. Greatcoats is one of my favourite series, filled with swashbuckling action, clever humour, and an absolutely miserable protagonist, Falcio val Mond, who always manages to get back up and keep going anyway. I read everything de Castell writes, and after a string of books with severe pacing problems (check out The Malevolent Seven for a book that doesn't have a second act) and other problems (I have a hard time seeing any book topping Crucible of Chaos as the worst book I've read this year), he finally seems to be back. The book didn't pack quite the emotional punch of some of his other books, but it definitely made me want to jump up and cheer for the heroes at the end.

The other book I just finished is The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden. I liked her Winternight Trilogy (look it up and be prepared for some absolutely gorgeous covers, with prose to match), so I was excited to see something new from her. This book was about World War I, with some fantasy elements used for magic realism. (Portraying a soldier's struggle with addiction and PTSD through the lens of him losing his soul to the devil was a brilliant idea.) I most subsist on a steady diet of fantasy books, but this one had me hungering to read a few more historical books. I might have to pick up some books about the Halifax Explosion.

Last film I watched: I haven't watched much on my own for a while, but my friends do a movie night every Sunday. The last two times I tuned in, we watched Jesus Christ Superstar and Pokemon 3: Spell of the Unown. They were both fairly cute movies. I liked Judas's actor.

Last TV series I watched: I've been making my way through The Office for the first time. I'm on Season 3 and this happened to me, actually. There was some stuff I was like, "Wow, that was funny. I should tell my coworkers about it," but then I realized that I can't be the guy who tells his coworkers about this funny new show called The Office.

Last video game I played: If visual novels count, Umineko. I've been working my way through it slowly for about five and a half years and I'm finally closing in on the end. It's peak fiction and the greatest love story of the twentieth century. It's also funny I picked a game this insanely long for my first visual novel. Other than visual novels, I just finished Pokemon Legends: Arceus, after putting in 104 hours this year. Completing the Dex is my favourite part of any Pokemon game, so having it be more involved and include a big checklist made the game basically crack for me. I've also been casually playing some Star Wars: Battlefront II (2005) with my brother. Every time we play it, I'm always amazed by how good it is and how much content it has. I want to take command posts forever.

Last thing I googled: "Dandadan Aira". I just started the manga the other day and I like her best, so I wanted to double check her full name, I think? Other than that I'm mostly looking up when books are available at my local stores. I've been religiously checking when The Book that Broke the World will be available and I'm not even sure if I'm buying it.

Last thing I ate: A few snacks from my snack drawer. I also had a Quaker yogurt bar at work. I bought a big box of them last year, but I had to throw them out because of the Salmonella. (Chewed through a lot of them before that came out, though, including eating three on an airplane.)

Amount of sleep: Supposedly seven hours, since I went to bed right after finishing The Warm Hands of Ghosts last night. The only problem is that if I get to bed at a good time, I sleep fitfully, so I'm either sleeping poorly or sleeping well, but not getting anywhere near enough sleep.

Currently reading: I started Empire of Silence, the first book of The Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio, at work today. I've had the first three books sitting on my shelf for a year or two and I finally got around to starting it. (I'd resolved to do both this series and Kushiel's Legacy this year, after having both for so long, and I got that one done at the start.) I'm not very far in, but I enjoy the writing style a lot, even if a lot of the worldbuilding is obviously cribbed from Dune. (Whoa, look, mentats.) I've heard it picks up a lot in the second book, so I'm excited for what's in store for me.

Passing this on, I'll tag @somerunner @lyssq @soulsinshadow @lunawithsocks and @dancerladyaqua. (They also have currently watching and sweet, salty, or savoury as questions, which I didn't do.)

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harlequin-hangout · 1 year

Text

Consequences

Loki Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist

Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Fem!Reader x Dom!Bucky

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI Knife play, Denial, overstimulation, kink, honorifics

Contains: This is just porn. Straight Smut

Word Count: 3.1k

This fic includes Polyamory! I've used some terms that, as a Polyamorous person, are part of my life, but I also didn't learn them until I became Polyamorous. So! Here's a glossary, just so everyone can enjoy the fic without googling. Not all terms may be used, I wrote the glossary before the fic 😅

Throuple/Triad: Relationship involving three people that are all involved with each other

V: Relationship involving three people where one person is dating both of the other people but the second and third partners are not dating each other

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This may be expanded on in the future, I haven't completely decided yet. Thank of blame @vbecker10 for this one, however it goes 😅😅

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You sigh and look at your phone hoping that maybe you’d missed a text in the three minutes you hadn’t looked at your phone, but you had no such luck. Bucky and Loki had been gone for two weeks – twice as long as was planned – and you hadn’t heard from them in three days. The mission had gone well, much better than expected, actually. It had gone so well that Pepper had immediately scheduled a week-long press tour. Your boys weren’t exactly the crowd favorites – one of them being an assassin and ex-Hydra operative, the other a god who tried to conquer your planet – but this could change all that. The tip they received had been a trap. If it hadn’t been for Bucky’s intimate knowledge of Hydra protocol and Loki’s magic, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark would be in critical condition, and Peter Parker would be dead. Hydra had been trying to take out as many of SHIELD’s top operatives as possible. Bucky had managed to spot things out of place, and had pulled Stark down out of the way of the explosion. He’d given Steve enough warning to move that the Super Soldier escaped with only some bumps and bruises, those would heal in no time. Peter . . . Peter had been mid-swing. The pillar had crushed his lower half. Thank god for his mutated genetics or he wouldn’t have made it long enough for Loki to get to him. Loki had managed to keep him alive just long enough for the QuinJet to get him to an intensive care hospital. He pulled through, and was due to be discharged from the ICU and sent to recover in the Avengers Tower medical bay next week.

A text from Steve lit up on your phone.

Message from: Steve Rogers

Y/N – Turn on your television, you’ll want to see this. – SteveYou smirked. No matter how many times you tried to bring that man into the twenty-first century, he still texted like an 80 year old man. At least he’d stopped sending letter-length texts in the group chat. Steve was the Avengers’ Golden Boy, but the Steven Rogers you’d come to know was every bit as bratty as you were. Not as submissive, that’s never a word you’d use for him, but bratty? Well, Doms are just brats who get their way. When he was vague like that, you knew he was up to something. You grab your laptop and open one of the national news channels that you knew would be carrying the conference. Tony stood behind the podium giving some kind of statement to the press before fielding questions. What on earth had Stevie Boy wanted you to – There we go. You smirked, he knew your style well.

The camera changed angles, and you could see your boys sitting in the back. Bucky had his headphones on, and they were both on their phones. Score. You immediately text Steve.

How long until you’re all home?

Y/N – Sometime after 2100, we will finish our last photo session at 2030, then make our way back to the jet. Pepper has already convinced Tony to leave the debrief for tomorrow. – Steve

Mischief spreads across your face. Steve, you sly bastard. Okay, what was 2100 on the twelve hour clock? It’s 2pm now, and that’s 1400, so eight . . . nine. Seven hours should be PLENTY of time to make them wait. You slip into your emerald green lingerie set – the strappy one that hugs your curves just right – and slip on one of Bucky’s casual leather jackets (the formal ones were the ones without knife marks or blood, but you were confident that the dry cleaner had been able to get all the blood out of this one). Planting yourself in front of the full length mirror, you sit on the floor and snap a few photos. Bucky’s jacket falling off of your shoulders, covered in Loki’s colors. Marking yourself as theirs. Smirking, you hit send in the Throuple group chat and watch the laptop screen. If this works, you have something much better in mind. Three . . . Two . . . One . . .

Message: Read

Bucky smirks, and Loki ever so discreetly raises an eyebrow on your computer screen. Wonderful, they’re paying attention. You grab the vibrator you keep for personal moments. Several settings and fifteen minutes later, you send an audio recording to that same chat with the caption “Headphone Warning 😈”

You run back to the laptop, and just in time. You see Bucky’s head snap up from his phone, then see him slowly pass the headphones to Loki. The God’s expression darkens, the lust poorly masked on his face. Your phone vibrates, a new message on your screen.

Group Message from: Loki

We land at nine. By the door. On your knees. No exceptions.

You could feel the butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. This was definitely going to be a long night.

8:59pm: You kneel next to the door, sitting back on your heels. You’d brought a pillow for under your knees, knowing that you may be here for a while if the QuinJet was delayed.

9:07pm: The tower is silent. You squirm a little and consider getting up, but decide against it. You’d pushed your luck earlier that day, so you better do what you were told.

9:13pm: You hear the roar of the QuinJet engines. Your boys were finally home.

They took their sweet time getting ready. It was almost 10 before you found yourself kneeling on the floor with Bucky pressed against your back. His vibranium hand clasped your wrists. You could feel him pressing into your back, his muscles moving against your bare skin as his fingers worked their way up your thigh. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he leaned down to nip at your ear, smirking as you whined. Loki clicked his tongue at the sound.

“Come now, Pet. Your little stunt during the interview has made things rather inconvenient for the Sergeant here.” Loki’s voice absolutely dripped with salacious intent. “Do you really want to make things that much harder on him?” Loki stared down at you, raising an eyebrow as Bucky gently pressed his hips against you. You felt your breath catch in your throat.

“N-no, My Prince,” you manage through Bucky’s teasing.

“There’s my good little Pet. Now, hold still.”

Loki was going to take his sweet goddamned time and there was nothing you could do about it. Every touch, every bite, hell, every look, was like electricity on your skin. You did your best to hold still, but the lust in Loki’s eyes made you squirm with need. You felt Bucky’s metal hand squeeze your wrists – a reminder to behave.

“C’mon now, Doll.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, breath hot on your ear. “Be good for the God, hmm? You had your fun earlier, now you need to deal with the consequences of your actions. Understand?” You whine as you feel Loki’s slim fingers ghost over your panties. You feel another squeeze on your wrists, this one a little harsher. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir!!” You gasp. Bucky groans softly in your ear. The honorific does it for him and you knew it.

“There’s my sweet girl . . .” He nips at your neck as Loki stands.

“Pet, I’d like to bring out my knife to pay you back for your press conference stunt. Is that something you’re willing to indulge tonight?”

“Yes, My Prince, but can we use the dullest one please?”

“Of course, love. Thank you.” Loki’s expression softens, even if only briefly. “We’ll use the red light system this time, love. I intend to take. My. Time.” an ornate blunted knife appeared in a flash of green. This one was your favorite. You could feel the cool metal on your skin, but there was minimal risk of your skin breaking. “Sergeant, if you would.” Bucky released your wrists and stood, sliding his intimidating form back onto the couch. He watched, his eyes dark with lust, as Loki worked. While Bucky would never bottom, damn did he love watching Loki work. The man was a genius when it came to denial, and he loved the way your body squirmed as you screamed and begged for your release.

You felt a pressure on your legs as an invisible force began to pull at your thighs. You giggle excitedly, knowing exactly what’s coming next. You loved shibari and being suspended, but it did take a lot of time. You felt a pull between your legs – that must be his magical anchor point – as your body is pulled upwards. You find yourself hanging upside down, the bite of invisible rope along your thighs and ass, as you lazily spin, your feet hanging down by your ass.

“Hold still for me, Pet,” Loki purred. You breathe in and out, waiting. The anticipation was always the worst part . . . not knowing when you were going to feel the cool bite of the knife, your Prince’s firm grip on your skin – you moan softly as you feel a sharp line of pressure draw up your thigh. He’s starting slow, warming you up. The blade makes its way over your hip, up you side, and presses in a bit more at your ribs before disappearing. You whine at the loss of contact, then gasp as you feel the knife scrape down your spine, from your tailbone to the base of your neck. The pressure feels heavenly. You let your eyes flutter closed as you begin to bliss out, your surroundings becoming fluid. Floating there, nothing matters besides you and the pressure of that beloved blade.

It could have been minutes or maybe hours before you felt the pull of the rope switch.Your arms fold crossed on your chest as a gentle force moves you into the perfect position. The pull of the rope traced its way around your arms and chest. The invisible anchor point centers itself over your breastbone and wrists. You feel yourself slowly pulled upwards as the rope drops from your hips.

“Can’t leave you upside down for too long, Pet. Besides, I have other plans for you tonight. Look at you, so pretty covered in those little red lines of mine.” You hang at just the right height for Loki’s hand to snake its way around your neck as you lean your head back against his shoulder. Your feet still dangle in the air as the other hand traces the outline of your panties. His long fingers push the fabric aside as they draw a slow, teasing line across your entrance.

“Remember, not until you’re given permission.”

“I promise, My Prince, I’ll be good!”

“Good Girl.” Loki smirked as his fingers entered you, their pace already merciless. He expertly curled his fingers against your favorite spot, while his other hand tightened on the sides of your neck, allowing air to flow to your lungs but giving you a floaty light headed feeling that made the warmth pooling between your legs infinitely more intoxicating. Your whole world narrowed again as you felt the band tightening in your stomach, bringing you closer to that intoxicating edge. Your moans fill the room and you can feel Loki growing harder by the second when – Hands off. He immediately ceases all contact, and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Clicking his tongue, the god holds his slick fingers near your mouth, a silent order hanging in the air. You immediately open your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits.

“Now, darling, you didn’t think it would be so easy, hmm?” You can hear Bucky’s dark laughter at your frustration somewhere off to the side, but your world is still hazy. Loki repeats his process again and again, you’d lost count of how many times. Squirming, writhing, begging, bargaining, nothing satisfied the God – your God – more than your frustration and suffering.

“Now,” Loki growled in your ear. “Are you ready to be a good little Pet for your God?”

“Yes!! Oh god yes, please,” you begged. Immediately you felt the ropes adjusting themselves again. Your feet hit the floor just long enough for Loki to pull your arms behind your back as another invisible harness forms, this time two anchors settling, one between your shoulder blades, while the other supports your hips but leaves your legs dangling towards the ground, toes barely able to scrape the floor. Your wrists are bound by the same invisible pressure as you’re lifted back into the air, ready to receive your God.

“How bad do you want to feel me, dove?” The thin grip Loki has on his composure was evident by the strain in his voice as he pressed himself against your ass.

“Please . . . plea–” You gasp as Loki presses into you. Giving you no more than a couple seconds to adjust, his grip is ironclad on your hips as he pounds into you. You moans fill the room as you’re reduced to a puddle, suspended in the air by nothing more than the will of your God. Loki works expertly, hitting your favorite spots over and over, bringing you to the brink of orgasm time and time again, but always you have to wait. You have to hold.

“Please, oh god, My Prince, please, I can’t last . . . I – I’m gonna–” you fight your orgasm, determined to obey your god’s orders. A hand tangles in your hair and pulls, Loki’s voice thick with lust in your ear.

“Cum for me pet, and worship your God.” You release, the building coil in your lower abdomen finally snapping as your orgasm rips over your entire body. Loki’s touch is electric as he eases you down. The last thing you remember is Loki’s heavenly moan before your vision fades.

“ . . .pet. Come back to us, darling, there’s my good girl. The Sergeant hasn’t had his turn yet.”

You open your eyes to see a now caring Loki holding you against his chest. You’re no longer suspended from your magical ropes. Bucky next to him, running his thumb along your cheek.

“Hey doll, how you feeling? Do you need a couple minutes?” You press your cheek into Bucky’s hand. Your heart always flutters when they’re soft with you, especially after a rough scene.

“No, m’good,” you manage. “Do whatever you want to me, Sir.” Bucky leans down and gently kisses your forehead.

“Mischief? Grab her hands for me. I wanna take my sweet time.” Bucky’s smirk was evident in his voice.

Loki chuckled, his voice deepening.

“Anything to help, Sergeant,” he smirked as his hands closed around your wrists. Bucky didn’t waste any time getting started, he had different plans than his godly counterpart. Bucky loved watching Loki work, the man had style. However, now Bucky was feeling a little like showing off. He pulled your ankles, pulling a squeak from your lips as he stretched you out, leaving your head in Loki's lap. He traced his hands slowly up your body, pressing your legs open and laying flat on his front. God, he loved how your legs shook when he nipped and kissed at your thighs. Hearing you gasp at the cold metal of his hand excited him, and he growled as he roughly pulled your panties off of you. He smirked up at you as you began to squirm under him.

“You have standing permission from me, Doll. Laufeyson may have wanted you to wait for your release, but I want to remind you what happens when you decide to play with fire.” Bucky could see Loki’s slender fingers squeeze your wrists, and then he got to work. He licked a slow strip up your slit, paying special attention to that ever-so-sensitive bundle of nerves at the top. He could hear you start to moan, only encouraging him. He pressed two large fingers inside of you, scissoring and curling them to find the sweet spot that he loved so much. You struggle to control your volume, back arching in the air as your head presses against Loki’s thigh. Aaah, there it was. Your hips started to buck already, your first orgasm quickly approaching. He can feel you begin to tighten around his fingers, only making him pump them harder, tormenting your favorite spots with a new devotion. He drapes his metal arm over your hips to hold you still as your first orgasm washes over your body. Taking no time for you to recover, he keeps pushing. At about three orgasms, you had lost your ability to control your volume. Thankfully, Loki took care of that for him, his lips crashing down on yours in an effort to keep the rest of the floor from hearing your extracurriculars. By six orgasms, Bucky could barely contain himself. He backed up just enough to give himself time to pull his hardened cock out of his pants and boxer briefs. You whined through Loki at the loss of contact, then moaned despite him as Bucky slid inside. You fit so nicely around him. So warm and tight, he gave you a couple moments to adjust once he bottomed out, then began to move. Slowly at first, relishing every gasp and moan that escaped your mouth. He reached down, starting to toy with one of your breasts, Loki’s hand quickly finding the other as his pace quickened.

“B-Buck– I mean Sir, pleeassse, so much . . . it’s so much I dunno . . .”

“You’re okay, Sweetheart, just one more for me, okay? Just one more. You’re doing so good, baby girl, just one more. Are you green?”

“Y-yeah, Green. Ahh!” you gasp as he picks up the pace, desperate for his own release as well as yours. As soon as you started tightening around him, it was over. Bucky came, and he came hard. He heard you scream his name, followed by a string of profanities. Breathing hard, he leans down and plants a tender kiss on your lips.

“There’s my good girl, you did so well for me.”

Loki had taken you to the shower to clean up. The bathroom was definitely Loki’s domain, Bucky didn’t know much about care products. Bucky grabbed the takeout he had ordered while Loki had his fun, set up the pillow fort in the living room, and queued up netflix. He heard you and Loki erupt into laughter, and he couldn’t help but smile. How someone like him had found two people that not only made him feel normal but loved – like he belonged, he’d never know. Even if nothing else made sense, he knew one thing. Even if your Triad was an unconventional relationship, he had found his family. Nothing could ever take you two away from him, and if anyone ever tried to use you to get to one of the Avengers, he had a partner in Loki who would help him burn the world to bring you home.

Tags: @vbecker10 @soubi001 @thomase1

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werezmastarbucks · 8 months

Text

kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship pt 2

first part

warnings: mutual abuse, mentions of school shooting, folie a deux, mentions of stalking, mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, living with trauma, otherwise it's fun! also, Kevin gets way more jail time while I'm captaining this ship

• Kevin got a reduced sentence, because at the time of the shooting he was just three days shy of sixteen

• that shows that he was calculating from the beginning to the end. Moreover, he calculated exactly how much time it would take him to fuck you, and he managed to do it even with some spare time left

• the headlines screamed of despair. You heard that Kevin had killed his father and his little sister - that angelic, innocent, happy girl, before going to school

• there were many times when you asked yourself why he spared you

• but there were now other things to think about. Like, how you were supposed to go on living now. Your own little grudge about that night at the party dissipated and became a minor failure even before the calendar year was out.

• you heard his mum sold the house and moved away on the outskirts of the city. She didn't leave the town though, because at first, Kevin was held at the local facility for minors.

• even you got your share of hatred, to say nothing about his mother.

• the police investigated you mildly, because you were the only survivor in the massacre. They quickly understood you hadn't conspired with Kevin. But people didn't care.

• very soon, you moved away and left the town, and school, behind you.

• five years of therapy, contemplation, heartache, spent with total lack of comprehension of what had transpired. Weeks turned into months as you went into a frenzy, sitting in your room, staring at the walls, trying to find your place in this story.

• you were recalling all of the moments you spent with him, one by one, trying to find the second he snapped. You remembered how you marveled at the beautiful stack of arrows on his wall. Just like Robin Hood's.

• five years of therapy, and self-reflexion. And then, when you were twenty years old, you decided to google his name for the first time in all that time.

• "I don't know why I did it: Kevin Khatchadourian, school shooter with a bow, has been transferred to the adult prison". An article from three years ago. There was a lot of news about him, a lot of pictures of Kevin. Him in his orange costume, hair cut short, and he looked like a disgraced puppy, lost. He was almost nothing without his magical poetic hair.

• one of the videos from court displayed him crying, hiding his face in his hands. You knew these tears were nothing but an act; just a thing everybody expected, or maybe, he wanted to try, and see if the reaction would be to his benefit.

• "The Robin Hood school shooter feels remorse, apologizes to families"

• there were even articles about you, though, in fewer numbers. Still, some theories that you helped Kevin to lock the hall; or that you were his sex toy that he had mercy on. As you went deeper on the internet, there were even accusations of satanism and demonology.

• through the news articles you watched Kevin grow. He turned seventeen, eighteen, then, his hair grew a little. Today, he was being fried in the adult prison. Very soon, there was another school shooting in the same state, so everybody forgot about Kevin Khatchadourian. Plus, he killed so few people; just seven. Weak. Reading this number, every time all these five years, you were taken aback. The whole ordeal felt like it lasted at least an hour. You were seeing everything in slow motion

• the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, for the longest time after, you started seeing Kevin's distorted face. As he grinned with hatred while he was killing your classmates. Little tiger cubs make that face when they learn to roar.

• the latest pictures of him were from the last year; he was a young man of twenty now. His black slick hair brushed back, bruises on his cheekbones. He was a broken man, the light dull in his eyes. Only in the corners of his mouth, there was the old Kevin. The Kevin who laughed at dumb people.

• sooner or later it was inevitable that you started asking yourself questions you couldn't answer. Could I have prevented it? To what degree has he been using me? Why did he spare me? Not like he cared about me? In his eyes, as he looked at me in the yard, there was nothing but resentment.

• you went to see him in prison, thinking about how you looked to someone who hadn't seen you in years. Thinking about your classmates who didn't get to be twenty, nineteen, throwing hats in the air, buying cars, traveling the world.

• all your unrequitted loving, and the dark undulgence, the sense of being the chosen one aside, you thought of those teenagers they used to be and stayed forever, and you wished to be in their place. Because then, you wouldn't have to see Kevin again.

• he looked worn out, but wild in a way, the same pitch-black hair, the same empty stare. Only, it became completely hollow now. His eyes only lit up for a secons when he saw you entering the room.

• you trembled with the realization that this person on front of you, behind the glass, killed seven people you knew, and was now smiling to you. A grown-up cougar. Unaffected, bored, like your coming was a matter-of-fact occurrence.

• his first question was what took you so long. He thought you'd run with lectures and commeuppances ages ago.

• his face sported a split eyebrow, there was a bruise on his forehead. His cheekbone was cut, it seemed, some time ago already, and a pink scar made his perfect fucking face asymmetrical.

• "Did you get beaten up?" you asked. He replied that he had got into a fight. His knuckles were torn to shreds almost, it was unpleasant to look at them; his skin was pale, pulled over his skull. Black circles around the eyes told you he didn't sleep well. He looked ever more like a vampire. The unpleasant kind, not like from the Vampire Diaries.

• he tried to ask you again, why you didn't visit him earlier. His mum was the only one, he said, who ever came, besides the lawyers and the journalists. You scoffed at it and left it without the answer. His eyes were palpating you, examining. His mouth slightly agape. He hasn't seen a woman, you thought, except his mother, for a very long time.

• "I came to ask you one question", you said, and Kevin made the face of annoyance. You went on anyway. "Why did you kill my friends?" He mocked you. Why did he do it. If only you knew how many people came here and sat in your place, and asked the same stupid question. Have you people no imagination nor consciousness to bore him with that? Like he knew. "Because I could", he spat out, "because I wanted to, and I had the means. Because I was annoyed with those people, and they made me irritated. What reasons do you want? I have no idea why I fucking did it; to piss you off? To make you spend five fucking selfish years thinking about why I fucking did it".

• you were not impressed. You didn't expect a fifteen year old narcissist to comprehend his own actions completely.

• "Why did you spare me then?" He shrugged.

• "Because you were nice to me".

• "I punched you in the face".

• he shrugged again like it didn't matter. But it did matter to him back then.

• you're like a robot, you said, you're not supposed to feel anything for a girl who you fucked and threw out like a sock with dry cum. You're a machine and you shouldn't feel anything. It irritated Kevin, this comparison with an inanimate object. Truth was, you were trying to get to his core, to hurt him as bad as you could, to see if he's still alive at all.

• "What's your point?" why didn't you kill me with the rest of them?

• he clutched the phone and rolled his eyes like you were asking the stupidest possible questions. His eyes then drifted down to your chest, where, propped against the glass, was your arm with an old, long scar from the razor.

• "Why, you have a death wish now?" he whispered. A familiar lustful smile was curling his lips. You noticed another scar on his lip, from someone's fist. It must be tough for the pretty boy here at prison. You wondered if the inmates were afraid of him.

• "I could organise it, you know". You realized he almost never, if ever, called you by your name. At all, as if it didn't exist. You wondered if he even knew your name at all.

• "You can't, you're in prison. You're a rat behind the glass. Do you understand, Kevin, that some of the parents of my dead friends, killed themselves years later?"

• he swayed his head with a question, like, what's he have to do with this information?

• "And", you panted now, "all because of one angry boy, and you're... it's the lack of grey matter in your brain poless, Kevin. You're a psychopath. And it's not good, do you understand, you're less than others. You're a little bit less of a human than the rest of us".

• finally, you saw the look of indignation on him. It was rage and disgust, but so quiet that his face just elongated, like a cat's. He was silent, burying you with his stare.

• "We all need one thing, Kevin. All of us. But you can't have it. It is inaccessible to you. That's why you did it".

• Kevin's nostrils were flaring. You put down the phone and stood up to leave. You could hear him scream through the glass. You caught him right by the balls. He was so smart, so, so intelligent unlike all these dumb people. But he couldn't guess what you meant. All these years he'd been searching for the answer, and it was just out of his reach.

• "What? What is it? What is it? What is it, Y/N?"

• he got fifteen years, actually. So, he was out when he was thirty. Still very young, all life to live. He pretended a lot in prison to get the appeal, but he was never granted it. Still, just fifteen years, and then he was out.

• you haven't seen him for ten years.

• the 8th of April was shifting further and further from you. Watching all the school shooting happening in the country was strange. Like almost each of them seemed a next chapter to you, like you were supposed to puzzle them all in, into one coherent picture. You changed jobs, you got in and out of relationships, none of which stuck. You didn't talk with your best friend from school, you drifted apart. You moved out and lived alone, acquiring lonely hobbies and observing people.

• the short visit to prison to see Kevin left a bleak impression of frustration. The memory of losing your virginity to him seemed like a minor failure still. You remembered that night very vividly, and now all of the time you were spending with him, was very clear to you.

• looking back, you saw the manipulation and hot and cold approach he practiced on you. You were something of a practice dummy for him. You could travel back in time and stand there next to yourself on the porch of someone's house and watch yourself kiss him for the first time. You could see him now, from a great angle, how he trapped you in his cobweb. How his eyes were never warm or loving, or even interested, but always calculating, measuring. He always looked at you, you realized, as if he was trying to guess your height for a coffin.

• you've never thought of the life 'after'. In your mind, the fifteen years of prison were eternal. You thought it was the period of time during which you would kill yourself

• you tried to learn everything about ASPD as if it could help you in anyway to deal with what had happened.

• the year when he got released, you only learned about it from the news.

• "Kevin Khatchadourian, the Robin Hood shooter, to be released this May". The article reminisced of the tragedy, and speculated on whether fifteen years have shaken Kevin enough for him to become a good boy. Kevin, it said, had gotten a pretty good rehabilitation back in the minor facility, and very rarely was in trouble at prison. He was an excellent inmate, obedient, friendly and very active at the workshops. He worked at the hospital wing and cared for other inmates. You wondered how many people he made die slowly and painfully, getting high on the power he had over them.

• not immediately did it shake you to reality: Kevin was now about to be free in two months. You tried not to stress about it too much. He didn't give a shit about you. Not then, not now. The therapy groups organized specifically for his victims and the families gathered that spring more often than usual. You weren't accepted there, weren't welcome. They couldn't forgive you for surviving.

• a week after his release you noticed Kevin on the other side of the street as you left for work in the morning. You didn't much care and ignored him. But the sight of him was something to think about. His hair was now long, almost to his shoulders. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and even from across the street you could see his warning eyes.

• you were careful not to get any pets or close friends. It wasn't a problem before, and it wasn't now.

• you cut yourself sometimes, and now started to do it more often - every time you caught yourself thinking, finally he's out.

• you've never gone to a proper doctor, only had therapy for five years, which you quit after visiting him in prison. It was all useless, you thought, because I still want him, and even more now. Everything that's happened to you shaped you into this creature of guilt and need.

• but also rage.

• he once held you by the throat and aimed an arrow at you, and since then, you barely felt fear, like someoned switched it off.

• Kevin came to your place. You tried to shut the door into his face, but he caught it. Close up, you could see his face, thin and pale with the lack of sun.

• he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

• he said that no, you were never that special, but you actively chose him, again and again, and he was interested to find why. When it appeared so easy to make you have sex with him, he lost interest, but then, at the night of the massacre, for some reason, he just didn't feel like killing you

• you were nobody, to each other, he hasn't even thought about you the first five years, before you came to visit.

• then the thought of you became somewhat of obsession

• he probably idealized you

• you asked where he lived now, and he said that his mum bought a flat in the city and had a room for him. You called him pathetic. At first, he didn't react; he looked broken.

• but there was still the same sense of grandeur in him; you, a feeble creature, thought you could outpower him with only your fury and jealousy, indignation at what he'd done

• but, as Kevin once told you, the world was so unfair to little, pretty girls like you

• he threw you on the floor of your kitchen

• you laughed with relief, saying, "Finally! I thought just fifteen years of prison broke you like a dry twig".

• the look of recognition sparked in his eyes; he kneeled over you as if to say something, and you got his nose with your fist

• one would say it was a happy (in the most infernal way) reunion

• you fought, and laughed, and kicked each other, and kissed with the blood dripping heavily in between your mouths. Only there, in the isolated square of your apartment, you could finally confess to yourself that you didn't give a shit about anything; you haven't for some time.

• the blood was smeared on the floor, on the table, on the cupboards of the kitchen from how much you fought and punched each other

• he left you half dead, and redeemed, it felt

• he said that he'd return soon, and he expected you to be there waiting for him. He didn't want you to go to work or see anybody.

• you laughed at this suggestion and got up to tell him something to his face.

• he was in the bathroom, washing his face. The blood was dripping from his nose onto his t-shirt; he looked like a painting

• and paintings are objects you could own.

• you said "Make me"

• and his smile was almost happy; Kevin could only master so much, that it looked like a deranged grin. The time he spent on the bottom of helplessnes in prison, with nothing but his own self, changed the way he smiled. There was nothing behind his eyes when he smiled now.

• he promised he would go out and fuck whoever he wanted, and then return to you, smelling like other women, and there was nothing you could do about it

• you clenched your fists, but you were now so weak you could barely stand. Your whole body ached.

• he helped you shower and washed your hair, tugging on it, giving you instructions, like an idiot, expecting that he had the same control over you

• after work, you go straight home, you don't text with your parents, don't see your friends, every time you leave your house, you tell him where

• you laughed like crazy at these words.

• Kevin, Kevin. His name was like melody. The pain in your body, bruises, were the first thing you felt in a long time, and, coincidentally, they were connected with the feeling of elation you had now, that his hands were on your neck and your shoulders.

• you could fuck whoever you wanted, Kevin, but it would only happen one time, because if you do, I'll cut your balls off

• and to make him sure that you weren't bluffing, you tried to stab him with manicure scissors from the bathroom mirror.

• his reactions were fast, and he caught your hand inches from his face.

• as he looked down at you, sitting in your bathroom in the pool of pink blood, blood on your forehead, your eyes rolling, he thought about the time he finally started paying attention at school. The girl who loved frogs so much she couldn't look at dead ones. Weak-gutted.

• he now almost admired how deranged you have become. At the moment of epiphany he realized he was the one who made you like this. He was so, so happy. Or what he thought was happiness.

• you pulled on his collar, biting your lip, and put his face very close to yours

• "Don't fuck with me". He saw all the fun coming and he didn't have any desire to disobey.

• Look, what was that damn thing you were talking about when you visited?

• you watched his sculpted face and his sharp bones, the tilt of the head and the vampiric malevolence in his eyes. What was love anymore? Would it have made any difference, morally, if you two had met in normal circumstances, and, more importantly, if he was normal? Would you even have fallen for him if he was a good boy?

• this life was a vortex that became tighter and tighter every year. Next to your memories of school, was this confined bathroom, like you existed on all of the planes at the same time. You laughed at your own naive young self that was looking for excuses for Kevin. uwu, his mum didn't want him. He's too pretty to be that bad. He didn't need excuses, he was always the villain. The good people are never that striking, that vivid and suffocating.

• nevermind, Kevin, it doesn't matter. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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traegorn · 4 months

Text

I need to stop doing this to myself.

(A Rant Where Trae Has Written Too Many Books This Month)

So since most of you started following me because of Witchcraft or podcast stuff, I realize a lot of you don't know how much fiction writing I do.

Primarily what I've published are comics. The big one is UnCONventional (which ran from December of 2009 to December of 2019), but I also did a steampunk comic called The Chronicles of Crosarth (which I put on hiatus in like 2018 intending to come back to... but I haven't, and I make no guarantee that I will even though over 650 of the 800 planned pages are done). Crosarth is... fine? The art isn't great in either of these, but UnCONventional carries itself with the humor.

But that's all old stuff. You may be like "Trae, what have you been producing for the last four years," and the answer is "not a lot." I got major creative block with the pandemic. Peregrine Lake, the "Northwoods Gothic" comic I was supposed to launch in 2020 (which has some characters from UnCONventional in it) didn't materialize when I said it would. What storytelling energy I had went into Stormwood & Associates and The Meatgrinder (my two actual play podcasts), but that was it.

And then 2023 happened, and the juices started flowing again.

Peregrine Lake is moving forward -- but with me just doing the writing. My urge to draw has not returned, but my urge to write has. A friend of mine, Ethan Flanagan, is drawing it, and I've written the first year of comics. It likely won't launch any time soon (the artist I'm working with is busy as hell so we want to get a shit-ton of the comic done before we launch it -- we have like the first month and a half of the comic ready?). But yeah -- it's happening. I hoping for Spring, but we'll see.

The other thing though is that I've started writing, like, novels. I've always had like twenty ideas in my head, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I decided to start with the idea I cared the least about (in case I fucked it up): A queer urban fantasy story.

In the last month and a half I've written complete drafts of two different novels in this setting, and am halfway through another one... and have another one outlined.

I, uh, had some ideas.

If you're asking yourself "Hey Trae -- what the fuck? That's a lot" you need to know a few things that aren't obvious. At one point in college, in 72 hours, I produced over 40 pages of text between three research papers. All were for 300 level courses, and I may have disassociated while writing them because I frankly don't remember most of it. But, like, they were decent papers.

One of those papers is in Google Scholar.

Anyway, yeah. I haven't been sleeping great because I've been obsessively writing, but you might ask "Why didn't you just write one and get it ready to publish?" That's a great question. Because I wrote a book, and when I was 3/4 of the way through it I realized something very important: This book would make a great sequel to a book I haven't written. I've been writing book two in a series where I haven't written book one yet.

Well fuck.

So I finished that draft, and I went and wrote book one. Now that book? That book I'm getting ready to publish. I expect to have it out in January. Part of my editing process involves setting what I think is a completed, good, revised draft down for a couple of weeks and then returning to it with fresh eyes. We're in that waiting period right now.

But I still had a bunch of energy.

So the first thing I did was a revising draft on book two (the one I wrote first), but I finished that. And had more energy. And more stories in this setting kept popping up.

So I started a third book. And I'm halfway through the first draft of that book. But then I realized yesterday... shit, this isn't book three.

This is book four.

I need stuff to happen before we get to this story.

So now I've outlined the actual book three, and am working on literally both of these books at once (I'll take a break for Christmas and then go do a final edit on Book One).

And... I'm just like... why am I like this?

I need to stop myself for a few days and get more sleep.

#writing

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try-set-me-on-fire · 8 months

Text

Tagged by @devirnis @rewritetheending and @wildlife4life for wip Wednesday. Well. I have opened another google doc but my idea for the story became what if it’s about this stern little lesbian getting a masc nickname and having a bit of a gender crisis while also dealing with the death of her father who she had a complicated relationship with And Also Buck Is There which I’m not sure would actually be interesting to anyone but me ahshshshs so this one will go on the back burner at least until I get more work done on other stuff. Here’s the opening scene though!

The station is clean. Not just free of dirt, mess, clutter, but the lines of it, stretching above her up into a loft who’s wooden roof provides a warm counterweight to the glass of the locker room, the stairs. It’s the first thing Beth notices, because back home the station had been, more or less, a big concrete room full of shit. The second thing is that they have more trucks, three shiny engines and an ambulance, which are all clean, too, no familiar and ever present layer of dust. The third thing is a very tall man standing at the top of the stairs grinning so wide at her it’s clearly visible even from where she’s lingering by the big bay doors. She takes a deep breath and heads forward, the man practically skipping every other step to meet her halfway.

He’s, somehow, taller up close, and the grin is wider. He’s in his 40s or 50s, maybe? She’s never been particularly good at guessing specific ages outside of very young and very old. His hair has a lot of gray in it, anyway, and she thinks when he stops smiling the crows feet will probably remain. There’s a red splotchy something she thinks is a birthmark hovering around his eyebrow but she doesn’t have time to really look at it because he’s talking immediately.

“Hi! I’m Captain Diaz! You must be our new probationary firefighter?”

She thinks he must know the answer to the question, he was the one waiting for her, and he must have seen her photo during the recruiting process. “Yes, sir. Elizabeth Mason.” He must know her name, too, but he’s holding a hand out in a way that invites introduction. She shakes it, and he has the same calluses as her father. “Graduated last week.”

“Congratulations,” he says, grin dimming into something so genuine it takes her off guard. “You had a few captains clamoring for you, glad you settled here with us.”

“Seemed like a good place to be.” She feels a little guilty at how pleased he looks, because the decision had actually been made around one in the morning in a mildly buzzed hat draw, one of her roommates scribbling station numbers on ribbed off beer labels for her to blindly root through.

“No better place on earth,” he says, and clearly means it. “Let me show you around.” He heads towards the stairs, and she follows a step behind. “And you don’t have to call me sir, Cap is fine, or Buck.”

“Call him Cap,” a firefighter passing them in the other direction says with a fond eye roll. He looks at Beth, jerks his head towards Buck. “He has a problem with authority.”

“Doesn’t that… usually go in the other direction? Problem with, not problem with having.”

Captain Diaz- Buck- makes a face at the other man. “Well. I’m very talented. I can do both.”

She just barely chokes down a laugh, but Buck seems to catch it, a glint in his eye. “Come on, don’t pay attention to any of my terrible subordinates, kitchen’s this way.”

The other firefighter laughs his way down the stairs, and they finish climbing their way up. There’s a few other people lingering around, anyone otherwise unoccupied giving them a friendly wave. Buck moves around the kitchen like a man in his own home, walking backwards and open cabinets without even needing to look, pointing out where they keep communal food and where people stash their own stuff, and then where people stash their own stuff if they really don’t want anyone else to take it.

“So, Elizabeth Mason,” he says as they look into the fridge and she nods like she has a lot of thoughts on coffee creamers and salads. “Got any nicknames? Or you want the full thing every time?”

She blinks at him. “Uh, no- Beth is fine. Or-“ she cuts herself off for a moment, not sure why she would bring this up, but then sticks her hands in her pockets and continues while playing with the seams. “When I was a kid my dad called me John.”

“Yeah?” Buck has that genuine thing going on again, eyes big and friendly like he really would like nothing more than to hear this story, to get to know her.

“Yeah, and I called him Bill- his name’s Thomas, I don’t know where I got the idea, I was like maybe four? Mom hated it but we thought it was the funniest thing.”

Buck is smiling in the scrunched up way people get when they hear a cute story about a small child. “Well-“ they both look up as he’s interrupted by the loud clanging of the alarm. He laughs, and claps her shoulder. “Welcome to the 118, John. Happy to have you.” It makes her smile without meaning to, maybe the first one she's given since she walked in, and Buck’s grin gets all big again in response. “Come on, let's head out.”

He heads back down the stairs and the room is different but the action is familiar as she follows behind.

Tagging @forthewolves @thewolvesof1998 @homerforsure @jeeyuns @buckactuallys @shitouttabuck @rogerzsteven @shortsighted-owl if you have anything to share!

#wip wednesday #tag games

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 2 years

Note

Could you maybe do a longer list of dally headcanons just in general of dating him long term? 💗💗

A/N: Your wish is my command Nonny <3 I don’t know if I really like how these came out? I feel like I could do more but I don’t know what else to do- hope you guys enjoy!

Long-term dating headcanons, huh?

To start, let’s sort out what we’re gonna qualify as long-term-

I am a firm believer that before you, Dally’s longest relationship was definitely Sylvia?

I feel like they had one of those on-again, off-again sort of relationships, y’know?

I’m talking like Dal and Sylvia were breaking up like every two weeks for the dumbest reasons imaginable-

So, for that reason, anything over a two-week relationship is long-term by Dallas standards

But for the sake of these headcanons, and the sake of the fluffy content I know y’all want, I’m gonna act as if long-term in this scenario is the normal long-term standards

A quick google, because I’m a clueless ace here who knows almost nothing about real relationships, says that a long-term is like somewhere between two or three years?

So we’re gonna do use that as a baseline and then all of the time after that-

Without further ado: Long-Term Relationship Headcanons With One Dallas T. Winston™

I’m gonna be honest here guys, I don’t ever see Dallas Winston being into marriage-

Like? I just don’t see him as a husband type

I just can’t see him sitting through the semantics of wedding planning, no matter how much he loves you

Be honest with yourself guys, can you really see Dallas sitting through flower arrangements and cake tastings?

If you’re just his partner/girlfriend/boyfriend, that’s totally cool with him, he just wants you to be his and no one else’s

That being said, he’s gonna treat his medal and ring like they’re some sort of engagement jewelry?

He’d probably be a little more hesitant to hand them over to you after what went down with Sylvia, so as soon as he offers them up to you, the relationship is gonna last man

But like-

If the situation calls for it, Dally won’t hesitate to refer to you as his husband/wife/partner so that he can have a little more power

Example: you get jumped pretty badly and get taken to the hospital, only immediate family and spouses are allowed back to your room

Dally won’t even blink as he firmly states that he is your husband and must be allowed to see you at once

I’m getting the vibe that you guys would definitely end up finding a place of your own eventually?

Like, you might crash with him at Buck’s place for a while, but ultimately I can see Dally wanting a place that’s just yours and his

It’s gonna be some sort of small apartment maybe? A little place, maybe a townhouse sort of vibe but it’s gonna be yours, something you have together and that’s the important part

Alsooooo, I may upset people with this? But I don’t see Dally being into the idea of having too many kids-

Like I think you could convince him for one? But that’s about the limit, anything else is really pushing your luck guys

It’s mostly because he struggles with the idea of being a dad?

Dal’s never really had a solid father figure y’know, other than Mr. Curtis I guess-

His old man is a piece of trash and Buck was more of an older brother so he’s never really had a good experience with a father figure

So, I guess, I’m trying to say that he’s afraid of turning into his old man, he thinks that’s all he really knows and thinks it’s inevitable

I know, I know, that’s sad and I’m sorry

But I think it plays an important role here in the Long-Term Relationship Headcanons With One Dallas T. Winston™

This is kind of related but also really random, I can totally see him getting a dog (or a cat, though it might take some convincing) and he’ll refer to it as your baby or your kid

I have a feeling Dal wouldn’t have a problem raising a pet with you <3

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

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lizardlicks · 5 months

Text

Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @blu3berrydraws, @erisenyo, and @paramouradrift lol thanks guys!

Relation Status: Married to my best friend and high school sweetheart

Favorite Color: green. any green. give me a green I will show you how beautiful it is

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet tooth is currently satisfied. Spicy is just kind of a bonus. I think savory is looking good rn.

Three ships: Zukka is the obvious current answer, but I am a habitual multishipper by nature, so here are three ships that I very much enjoy which might not be on your radars!

First is @ablueeyedarcher's fault: How/Piandao. The SS CapyPanda. Are they minor characters who only show up for two or three episodes a piece? Yes. Do I care? No. Let them smooch.

Number two is Jee/Bato. Look. Jee is a tired gay man, He has served his time. Let him get out there and get the good dick. He's not a home wrecker though, he's not gonna get between whatever Bato has going on with Hakoda... unless maybe they invited him to get between them more literally.

Third is Zuko/Kuei. I know the the post canon comics pitted these two sad bitches against each other but listen, here me out. They're both young, inexperienced leaders dropped head first into navigating attempting to deescalate their countries post a century of hostilities with minimal helpful guidance, and they were also both used and betrayed by the father figures they we supposed to trust and rely on. What if when left alone, face to face, they bonded over venting their similar frustrations? What if that bonding turned into an unlikely friendship? What if that friendship tripped and rolled down a rocky hill of something more and they ended up in a secret affair between the heads of two of the world's most powerful states? What if it all came crashing in on them, but they couldn't untangle their very real feelings from their duty as leaders? What then?

First ever ship: Oh snap this is reaching back into Ye Old memory banks here. If I'm being totally honest I think it was the pink and green (later white, much later all the rest of the damn colors) rangers from the original run of the American version of Power Rangers. The internet didn't exist as we know it today so it was just a group of a half-dozen 7-9 year olds G O S S I P I N G on the playground between rounds of pretending to be actual velociraptors.

Last Song:

youtube

(Two Steps From Hell is my go-to writing times tune everything out music)

Last Film: Technically it was me and the rest of the adults post Thanksgiving diner keeping a running background commentary going on the worldbuilding choices in the Paw Patrol Movie that the little kids insisted on watching. Real answer, the last movie I sat down to watch with intention was Across the Spiderverse.

Last thing I Googled: solar chistmas lights. My coworker was complaining that her only outdoor outlet shares a load with an indoor one (which?? rude!) and her partner wouldn't let her put up more Christmas lights. I had to show her. The way her face lit up as she IMMEDIATELY zoomed to Amazon and started filling her cart. Apologies to her poor family and neighbors, but I definitely made her week and possibly her entire New Year.

Currently Reading: Hey did you know that @erisenyo is already releasing stuff for zukki week because she is. you should definitely go read that.

Currently Watching: Rewatching Blue Eye Samurai while spouse watches it for the first time. He's been big into old samurai and wuxia films since I can remember so I'm just sitting here anticipating his reactions to every easter egg and trope call back they've stuffed into this show and also spotting things I missed on the first round.

Currently Consuming: Peppermint mocha and a cheese, egg and sausage tornado. Don't question me.

Currently Craving: My cozy bed. Also a nice big bowl of curry.

Currently Working On: The next chapter of Learn to Carry Love. I'm so so so close to the finish aaargh!

Current Obsession(s): *Gestures at my blog*

And with that I'm gonna taaaaaaag @ablueeyedarcher @rainbowbarnacle @paintsplattere @allgremlinart @saccharineomens @thepioden @siggymcpissyface @curlicuecal and @yandereleorio! No obligation of course, just for a fun time if you wanna :D

#tag game #there were actually a couple different versions of this game with different questions between all the posts I was tagged in #so I combined them #anyway I have so many more odd ball ships where those came from you should ask me about them #gonna file this under #lizard is starting to ramble #Youtube

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ravenadottir · 1 year

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rahim: headcanons

(listen, i thought i had posted and queued this last year, like around june, and as it turns out it was stored in my google drive, so rahim stans, sorry about that!)

⛳ after having a discussion with @itsrealityboo we can agree the imagery of rahim with a petit dog is e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. while the dog gives him kisses he can’t help but giggle while it happens. STOP.

⛳ i reckon he prefers apartments over houses. like @itsrealityboo said, "I think he wants luxury but doesn't want to deal with the additional upkeep that comes with a stand alone house." and it's very that.

⛳ a second bedroom converted into a closet, because you know he just has LOADS of clothes and barely repeats them.

⛳ his at-home-attire consists mostly of sweatshirts, which i love picturing in a blush pink.

⛳ during the pandemic he was getting anxious for not being able to hit the gym. however, he did go overboard to compensate for it with his online purchases.

⛳ the maintenance for his hair it’s either made by mc or himself. i really reckon he went through a lot of videos and tutorials to learn because he didn’t know how to do them before.

⛳ he was also having lots of fun learning dance tutorials on youtube, but doesn’t want anyone to know about it. REALLY HARD TO MISS THE GIANT BOY STEPPING UP AND DOWN IN THE OFFICE BUT SURE RAHIM.

⛳ zoom calls with noah and henrik. learning some recipes from bobby and talking nonsense with gary.

⛳ playing online FOR SURE, and everyone in the chat was from the villa. he loves playing team games and laugh while gary yells at bobby for the 35th time that he missed a chance to eliminate someone. “AI, CUPCAKE, PAY ATTENTION, FUCK!” all you can hear is noah sighing and rahim chuckling.

⛳ he was so bored at some point he was learning how to do magic, and when failing while showing it to his girl he would shake his head and say “it worked when i practiced in the mirror”.

⛳ his mom would make sure he’s always keeping the fridge full and he would respond with “it’s almost like you don’t know me mom.”

⛳ i reckon he talks to his mom at least once a week. not so much with his dad the more he learns about masculinity and all.

⛳ loves to surprise his girl with his cooking, and now that’s improving he likes showing off a bit.

⛳ expanding his music collection by A LOT.

⛳ expanding his reading as well, especially with manga.

⛳ and while at it he might check a few animes too.

⛳ drawing! drawing! drawing! this is an old headcanon but it’s so fitting for him. i think this is how he copes with anxiety sometimes.

⛳ so many brand deals after the show. the best way to make money during the pandemic since he couldn’t tour.

⛳ i would love to think he did a reaction video about three episodes: the one he brings shannon back, the one he chooses jo over shannon, and when he and mc get back together. i have a feeling he’s very apologetic about the whole ordeal and tries to explain himself a lot.

⛳ wine drinker. sue me, i like the thought of him drinking a glass of wine.

⛳ he might experiment a lot with his hair, and let it breathe from time to time. i honestly think he would look so good with an afro.

⛳ if he's bored you might catch him trying to solve the rubik's cube in a shorter time crunch.

thirsty headcanons under the cut:

🧡 rahim’s disposition to make her moan is unprecedented. he’s reading,, and watching a lot of videos on the matter. he felt really unequipped and i think spending his time learning is worthy of compensation.

🧡 loves being the reason she grabs the bedsheets and will do anything to make it happen.

🧡 slight mommy kink, not gonna lie.

🧡 loves praise.

🧡 has a hard time to talk about his own preferences because he’s afraid of being judged. once he feels comfortable, there’s no turning back.

🧡 background music always, it helps him focus.

🧡 holding her around his waist wherever they are.

🧡against a wall happens more frequently than you think.

🧡 P-A-C-K-I-N-G.

🧡 likes being guided. loves being controlled. cums when commanded.

🧡 his default flow is mostly romantic and easy going.

🧡 if he doesn’t receive a picture while on tour he’s definitely upset.

🧡 if she tells him she wants a video with audio featuring him in the tub, he’s tripping on his way to take his clothes off and fill that bitch up.

🧡 left and right there’s a growl but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to make noises. when she tells him it’s ok, just watch. or rather, listen. he sounds fucking good…

🧡 moans her name continuously while she’s in control. and out of it for that matter.

🧡 buries his face in her neck when on top.

🧡 LOVES being teased and can’t get rid of whatever is his hands fast enough when she lets him know what’s about to happen.

🧡 whimpers when close to cumming.

🧡 his torso and thighs tremble while it happens and he shuts his eyes while grunting and whimpering.

#litg #love island the game #litg ibrahim #litg shannon #litg jo #queue

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uncanny-tranny · 9 months

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Transsexual Thursday!

I’m the 30+ anon from last week, I think I’ll come back more often cause it’s so nice to talk about all this, so I’ll just call myself A (for ancient) from now on 😀

My euphoria is still going strong, though I haven’t found the courage to email that therapist yet. But I’m pretty sure I’ll be ready soon. There’s also a trans group that meets up every month and it’s so close I could walk there. I’d have to introduce myself via email first though and I’m a bit scared 😅

And, maybe the biggest news, at least it feels like it: I’ve come out to the first two people! They’re two coworkers I’m very close to. We were at the office together yesterday and one of them (she’s in her late 30s) asked if she could ask me a personal question. She was super respectful and asked several times and confirmed that I’d just not answer if it’s too personal.

And then she straight-out asked me if I identify as a woman. And I said no 😀 I was so nervous, but they were both really accepting. The one who asked said she noticed in the past weeks that it seemed like there was something I wanted to open up about, and she had the feeling I wasn’t happy with she/her pronouns and being read as a woman and didn’t want to contribute to that misgendering. And that was so validating, cause apparently I immediately developed dude vibes once I figured out I’m a trans guy 🥹 And she apologized several times in advance cause she might mess up my new name/pronouns but I assured her it’s fine. I’m super new to all this myself after all and not entirely sure how to proceed.

And then we ran into a logistical problem cause it’d be complicated for those two to use my new name/pronouns when nobody else is around, but the old ones with others. And I don’t want to put them in an awkward situation where they accidentally use my new name with someone else and have to explain. So for now we decided that they’ll use my old name/pronouns until I ask them to switch completely. I’ll have to come out to more people until then though. We’re about 25 people at the company and we all get along great and I don’t expect any blatant transphobia, but of course I’m still nervous.

Today the coworker used my new name twice in our chat group (with just the three of us) and it made me very happy 😊 I also thanked them again in the group and said they can always ask me anything (they’re not people who’d ask inappropriate questions). And the one who asked me said she read about trans identity all evening so she’ll ask a lot of questions. And tbh I’m pretty excited about that. Being able to actually talk about it in real life with real people in my native tongue will be cool. And maybe it’ll pave the way for coming out to more coworkers.

And I also basically did a mental transition speed run and looked up how all the different steps work over here, googled doctors and clinics and the documents you need and surgery options and even surgery pictures and how the name change works. Before I really accepted my identity it seemed like way too much and was enough to put me off, but now that I actually looked into it and know what to expect, it seems manageable.

Sorry, this is super long 😅 if you prefer asks that aren’t novels just let me know and I’ll keep things shorter the next time I have something to talk about 😅

-A

That's beautiful, and Ancient is such a gorgeous pseudonym. You deserve to know just how amazing life can be!

#ask #anon #transsexual thursday #long post #ancient as a name just invokes imagery of the appalachian mountains - something older than *bone*#it's tragic that people call others ancient as an insult. imagine how those mountains feel. they're so old that you can't even PERCEIVE it #ancient is literally the BEST codename you cpuld have given yourself anon. i want to be like you when i grow up :)#i hope things continue looking up for you ancient <3

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nextinline-if · 2 years

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hello author, I'm very sorry if the question is a bit heavy or strange but this is something that I can't get out of my mind for about three weeks

in an alternate Au MC contracts a terminal illness that is not known how to cure or there is not much information about it.

this would happen before James abdicated I had the doubt if James would do it even knowing that his twin would not live many years or he would take the throne,how do the queen and the Other RO's react to the disease that seems MC?I also have another doubt about how F would react when he comes back and knows about the MC thing

I imagine an MC in a bed while the royal family doctor does a treatment to relieve the suffocating and stabbing pain in the MC's body who while holding the hand of a James worried and dismayed seeing his twin suffer from this disease, when the treatment ends and he manages to relieve MC's pain a little, James wipes his twin's tears and proceeds to join his forehead with his brother's saying that already that soon he will feel better trying not to cry too, here James tries desperately in striving to be strong and cope with this not because of pride or something like that for him but because of his brother who needs him in these difficult and overwhelming moments. or another where MC is in an old wheelchair being pushed by Ana taking a walk through the royal gardens and being accompanied by a Constantine

I'm very sorry author if the text is too heavy and boring I can't deny that I love overwhelming and tragic scenarios I hope I'm not too annoying for you and it's the second time I gather the courage to write in an app

P. D I love the characters, the way of narrating each scenario, the character, the emotions and feelings that are reflected in each chapter included in all of the above that I have said and how the story develops as the choices we make. I look forward to the new updates you upload and take your time there is no rush!!💖 . OH yes!! I forgot the above about James, MC and Ana and Constantino, that's what didn't let me in peace and sleep well so I thought I'd ask you since you are the creator and author of this magnificent creation

thank you for coming this far and be patient with me if you read this😖🥰☺️ I hope that everything I wrote is understood since I don't speak English use the Google translator since I finished correcting and shortening many words uff I hope everything is understood😖 it took me about 3 or 2 hours

Wow, I may have cried a few happy tears from your very sweet and kind message!! I feel bad that you spent so long working on this! But it was very interesting to read and I'm so glad that you did share it because I loved reading it. I hope you will gather the courage to share more <3

It was not boring or too heavy at all - amazing, just like you dear anon <3 I feel so inspired and honored that you were thinking about my game, its characters, and world this deeply.

Notes on James and F:

It's difficult for me to answer about whether James would abdicate or not. If the King had not died, he would not have abdicated. But that did happen. However, despite his reasons in the game world for doing so, I do not think he would in this alternate universe. He would not want to put more on his sibling when they are already suffering.

F would experience a heartbreak like none other when they came back to discover MC has a terminal illness. They would be in denial and search every book for answers, constantly giving the doctor new ideas or theories. They would do this until MC takes their last breath and then it would hit them.

As for ROs actual reactions + Vivian:

Constantine: He would struggle to find his words. You've left him speechless more times than he can count. But this...this is different. This is a moment where he feels frozen in time. His throat constricts thinking that one day soon he will never hear your voice again, or see your smile. He'll stay by your side until the very end. Every moment, both the good and the bad - he will ensure you are not alone through this. He is yours.

Felix: Felix couldn't comprehend the news at first. You're dying. And there's no way to save you. But how can that be? You are the light in what was a worthless world for him. You showed him how to live, how to live for himself. And for you. He has never been much of a praying man but he's in the temple day and night, whenever he's not by your side. Because he knows the comfort you bring him is fading with your life. But he also knows he must prepare for a world without you. And he is once again, lost.

Margaret: The twinkle in your eyes is gone and along with it, the twinkle of the stars. Because you are magnificent and brilliant and divine. And she can feel you slipping away from her. Margaret is angry. An anger that cannot be spoken through words. Or thoughts. Or even actions. An anger that just wraps itself around your bones and lingers. She doesn't know how to feel anything but discontent.

F: The news crushes them. They were already regretful of leaving but now they wonder about the time lost. Time they could have heard your laugh or seen your smile. How long until you're gone and they forget the sound of your voice? F knows that these thoughts are just wasting the precious time left - so they push them away. You're here now and they need to spend every spare moment with you. Memorizing you and the way the light hits your skin. They can continue their pity party after you're gone.

Vivian: Your father was ripped from her. And now she watches you waste into oblivion. She wants to wrap you in a hug and never let you go. Vivian wishes she could go to Avernus instead of you. Or perhaps, she wishes she could fight Letum. He couldn't possibly win against this mother's love for her child. Vivian squeeze your hand, not bothering to hide her tears. She solves problems. But this one...this one is out of her reache and she wants to burn the world down for an answer.

I imagine an MC in a bed while the royal family doctor does a treatment to relieve the suffocating and stabbing pain in the MC's body who while holding the hand of a James worried...

I'm not sure what else to add here, because you did an amazing job capturing James and the way he cares about his sibling. I don't think I could add anything valuable because I can tell you really understand who I intend James to be.

or another where MC is in an old wheelchair being pushed by Ana taking a walk through the royal gardens and being accompanied by a Constantine

I'll expand here a bit on how I think it could go.

Constantine walks by your side as Anna pushes you through the gardens. You chat for a while before Anna brings you to a stop at your favorite spot, a bench by the fountain with the prettiest flowers in the whole garden.

Anna smiles, patting your hand. "I'll be back soon," she says. Constantine takes a seat on the bench, staying close to your side.

Anna smiles softly as she looks over her shoulder. We're going to be lost without you, she thinks.

Constantine gently takes your frail hand and he traces his thumb along your skin. How much longer will I be able to feel the warmth of your hand in mine? He shakes his head, turning his heartbroken blue gaze to your eyes.

You smile at him, but your eyes hold a similar sadness. It's not the fact that you're terminally ill. But the way the people you care about look at you as if their hearts have been ripped from their chests. "I love you," you tell him softly.

"And I love you, my heart," he replies before brushing a kiss along your wrist. "Now, why don't you finish telling me that story about James? You know I need all the details since you won't be around to tease him with me."

You chuckle before launching back into your tale. Despite everything, you know Constantine will take care of your brother and that lightens your aching heart. It's enough.

It has to be.

-----

Again, thank you so much for sharing your idea and your super sweet message. You are a kind person <3

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#alternate au #james verissimo #constantine dimas #lady anna #interactive fiction #anon reply #f faramund #this message really motivated me #yes I have tears im a sensitive person okay this was just too sweet afhsdn #<3

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