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mysticmellowlove · 2 years ago

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Lovesick - 80,000 Lightyears (Capt. Spaceboy HC)

warnings; omori logic, fluff, barely any spice, if you tried really hard

word count; 2362

note; who is this for you may ask? it's for me your honour, i love him with my whole goddamn heart. who injected crack into this man’s design. why is he soooo hhhhhhhHHHHHHH

Spacekid

As a young planetoid you were quite familiar with the Space family. Everyone in your galactical neighbourhood was. They were adventurers, thrill seekers, extroverted and loveable. Every member of their family loved to travel and discover. Spacekid was no different.

The first time you interacted with them was in school. You had just transferred over and sat next to them as they gazed dreamily out the window. You remembered taking a peek as well, just to try and figure out what had them so enamoured. They spotted you of course, their red eyes sliding over to you as their light pink hair flopped into their face.

You had jumped back, sheepish that you had gotten caught. When class was over, just as you were about to leave, they pulled you over and pointed out something in the distance. Just barely visible over the swath of stars was a shining object. A planet of sorts. A really muscular planet actually. They hadn't even said a word to you and yet you two had shared a moment together.

After that you hadn't seen much of them around, they always seemed to be busy with something. However, you knew that they were doing good, their name was all over the school newsletter after all. 'Most promising', 'most adventurous' and 'best musical talent' were titles that were commonly mentioned.

You were just a kid back then and you had your own stuff on but for some reason you were never able to forget them.

Captain...? Spacekid?

Your morning started as they usually did, with the chatter of the rest of your family. Sluggishly you woke up and dragged yourself out of bed. On the other side of the room was your sister, still blissfully asleep with her cover pulled tightly over her head.

As you had grown older the time for you to take your family's job seriously had arisen. Once you were a simple young planetoid but now you were a fully-fledged and licensed asteroid!

On your way down to the dining room table, which was a few paces away, you ran into your older brother. He mumbled something in your direction as he pulled on his shoes. He was also leaving the house today, as were your thirty other identical siblings.

Your parents packed you a small bag with some food and drink before ushering you out the door. At least you weren't the last to leave, even if you were pretty close. Now all you had left for you was... well the whole galaxy and all of its far reaches. As an asteroid it was your job to hurtle yourself across the sky for the rest of eternity. Or alternatively, until you crash land into something and make a new home for yourself. It was seriously exciting stuff.

However, as you walked through your old neighbourhood a wave of nostalgia hit you. This may be the last time you see this place. You made a lot of memories here and a lot of friends. Your best friends were just up the road while some more were on the edge of the star lake. Leaving was going to be hard but it was also really exciting!

A wide grin spread across your face as you climbed up the mountain that had been used as a launching pad for the rest of your siblings before you. It seems as if some of them had even left recently if the sight of a lost shoe was any indicator. Palma was always clumsy but then again it could've easily been RC's shoe as well.

A clipped hum left your mouth as you kicked it to the side so no one else would trip on it. Afterwards you lined yourself up with the edge of the cliff, stretched your arms out and ascended into the sky. Of course it wasn't a perfect lift-off, you had a slight incline to your spin, but it was enough to send you hurtling off into the far reaches of your home's atmosphere.

At first it was smooth sailing, the stars flew by you like a flashy mirage. The constellations spelled themselves out and the glint of far-off planets drew you in like a moth to a flame. However, what felt like only a few hours flew by and you found yourself wavering in your path a little.

It was as if the wind had been disturbed, as if space-time itself had been warped in a sense. The next thing you knew you had collided rather roughly with a hunk of metal. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt your head push through the outer layer. Upon opening them you found yourself staring off into a room full of small duck-looking hybrids.

Their beaks were open and their eyes were wide, trapped frozen in whatever they were doing before you made your entrance. Sheepishly you raised your hand and waved to them. Your whole top half was through the wall of their spacecraft. There was about three or four of them in the same room, all of them with disbelief etched onto their face.

"Hey...bro?" One of them finally snapped out of his confusion and looked towards you. His blue skin reminded you of home, in fact they all looked really familiar.

"Are you guys space pirates?" There was a smile on your face as you looked around at them. At the mention of their moniker they perked up and went to get closer to you.

"Only the best!"

"Yeah, totally the best! We are SPACE PIRATES!"

"That's right. Of course you know about us pal!"

A little overwhelmed you nervously smiled at them as they went to chatter on about their experiences. It turns out they were doing a loop of your home planet at the moment after they had been heading east for a couple of days. You were amazed that they had travelled so far in such a quick time. You'd never be able to do that!

Before the conversation could continue a door off to the side opened up and three more people came in. To your amazement you recognised one of them! Standing before you was Spacekid! Your eyes sparkled, you hadn't been the best of friends but you'd never forget the time they pointed out that planet to you. If you remembered correctly they had mentioned that they wanted to travel all the way over to it so they could look at it closer. You wondered if they ever got to do so.

"Oh. What's going on here?" They looked confused for a second before relaxing into a much more carefree state. They were as you remembered. Pink hair, blue skin and a bright-eyed look. They were even dressed in a fancy looking get up with a uniform! And a cape!

"Wow, Spacekid! You look good." Your head inclined a little as you took in their sudden flushed expression. Their hands waved around wildly as they coughed.

"J-just call me Captain Spaceboy!" Your mouth dropped a little before you settled back into a laid-back state.

"Nice to see you again Spaceboy." He sighed and let his shoulders drop before he quickly walked over. It seemed as if he had suddenly realised what had happened.

"You're in the wall of Mercury Retrograde!" He seemed shocked and a little distraught for a moment. You tried your best to placate him, telling him that you were now a licensed asteroid and that you hadn't meant to bump into his spacecraft. The space pirates listened in as well as they went about organising a way to get you unstuck.

"Wait, so let me get this right... you're supposed to stay wherever you land?" Capt. Spaceboy seemed shocked. You nodded your head, it was an ancient asteroid law. Wherever you landed was supposed to be your home, it's how asteroids spread. Some of your siblings had sent you letters from all over the galaxy. Some from rocks in the middle of nowhere, some from under the sea and some even sent you letters from a place called the 'Sun'.

However, you understood why he was feeling a little flustered. You had landed on his ship of all things, something that moved around the galaxy. What were you supposed to do now? Did you stay on his ship? The law was unclear about things like this.

"Well, you can stay with us for a while I guess. I don't know how things like that work but I'm sure we can figure it out!" And just like that you had come to an agreement with him.

Capt. Spaceboy

A sudden jerk to the ship sent you sprawling off of the hammock you had been given to sleep in. A warble came from below you as your bunkmate fell to the ground as well.

"You good SP Amigo?" You called out as you picked yourself up off the ground, or rather off of Amigo. The smaller male sighed, his face set into the ground like a stone. Sooner or later he peeled himself up.

"I'm gonna go check on the systems." He mumbled woefully, dragging his tired feet out of the small room. You watched him go with a smile on your face, he was going off in the direction that all his friends were in. You had been travelling with them for a while now, about a month you think. They were nice if not a bit single-minded.

One thing that they all shared in common though was their love towards Capt. Spaceboy. At first it seemed as if he had some big shoes to fill with his father being the last captain but the other pirates just loved him. You had never seen so many people show so much care towards one individual. It made you happy as well.

Your eyes drifted over to the small desk in the corner of the room. On it was a variety of letters addressed to you by an elder asteroid, letters that detailed your specific circumstance. It seemed as if they didn't know what to do either. You wanted to stay with the space pirates for as long as they'd let you though.

Definitely because you enjoyed their platonic company and not because you had a massive crush on their captain.

You shook your head and went to check on the ship as well. Something must've collided with it for the whole thing to shake so violently. As you left your quarters you noticed that the halls were full of other pirates working tirelessly. Determined to not be a hindrance you helped out wherever you could as well. It mostly was you carting resources back and forth to the others until they had everything they needed to check and repair any damages.

Eventually on your travels around the spacecraft you bumped into the captain himself. Your eyes widened as you brushed against his body. While you were flustered he seemed to be occupied, his eyes darting over the halls wildly. Soon enough he saw you and his mouth dropped a little bit.

"Are you alright? The bump didn't hurt you in any way did it?" The near sugary tone he had as he asked you if you were okay was enough for your face to heat up. Sheepishly you told him that everything was alright. He sighed a breath of relief, his head angled towards the ground.

Moments later though his head snapped back up, a spattering of dark green covered his cheeks. He seemed to warble something for a second before his composure returned.

“Make sure to stay safe okay. It would be a shame if anything happened to you.” His eyes were caring, his face soft. You blushed a little as well before nodding your affirmative. It was as if time had slowed as you two looked at each other. A certain fondness surrounded the two of you.

“Sick, are you guys dating now?” The moment was shattered as SP Buddy poked his head around the corner, his space suit covered in oil. Both your head and Capt. Spaceboy’s turned at the same time to look at him.

At that moment, when the whole spacecraft was in shambles from the hit, something unsaid bounced between the two of you.

Space Boyfriend

Obviously being the partner of the Captain of the spacecraft you were on had its bonuses. One of these bonuses was that you could kiss him in the empty navigational room. You had never thought that you'd have been able to kiss that mysterious kid in your class, ever.

Space Boyfriend, as he now insisted he'd be called, was a pretty good kisser. His arms were wound around you as you leaned up against the wall, despite being rather skrunkly looking he did have some sort of muscle.

He was warm too, which was good because it was pretty cold in space. You drew back as his hands pressed into your shoulders so he could rest his head into your neck. He sighed as his body weight nestled into you.

If there was one thing about him that you'd never expected it was that he was incredibly touchy. Space Boyfriend wanted to be in contact with you always. His hand brushed against yours, his eyes trailed you across the room and his mouth spread into a grin every time you sat by him.

All the other space pirates had figured this out as well. On days when you were busy they would note that he'd be more volatile, closed off and angry. He'd mumble to himself under his breath, his tone darkening as he huffed and puffed.

However, every time you came back he was happy. Smiling and laughing as he draped himself over you. He loved to be held like that, with his head in your neck and his legs around your waist.

He was just too loveable so you let him do whatever he wanted, even if that meant he'd stick by your side for hours upon hours. At the end of the day making the decision to stay with him on his ship was the best decision you could've ever made.

#omori #captain spaceboy #space boyfriend #space boyfriend x reader #captain spaceboy x reader #drabble #headcannon

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onlyswan · 4 years ago

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meet me behind the mall | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: smut sigh, fluff kinda

→ warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, slight ? degredation, calls her a slut once, fingering, handjob, oral (m. and f. receiving), choking, spitting, cum eating / swallowing, unprotected sex, facial (this term is so 😭) lmk if i miss anything plz

→ word count: 3.3k

summary: jungkook makes you live for the thrill of it all.

note: this was an impulsive write idk what possessed me today frends but have at it >_> semi proofread it’s 5am goodbyr

—

it’s one of the things you first learned about him. jungkook loves taking photos. he loves capturing moments with a simple click of a camera. he finds an unexplainable comfort and bittersweet nostalgia in finding old photographs in his drawer, in his pockets, tucked in between the pages of his textbooks. it’s like finding little treasures all over the place, you can hear his voice in your head, can see the pretty twinkles of passion and fondness in his pretty doe eyes.

so when he told you all about the new photobooth at the arcade, followed by a text that simply said meet me behind the mall, you didn’t particularly imagine that you would end up in this position. you can see the shutter going off even though your eyelids are closed as jungkook’s tongue is basically shoved down your throat. your panties is pulled to the side and two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt, curling deliciously to stimulate your sweet spot that has your thighs shaking uncontrollably every fucking time.

how naive of you to think that your boyfriend spontaneously texted you at eight in the evening to meet up and simply take cute couple pictures in film. of course, you do have a fair share of scandalous photos, but they’re all conveniently stored and locked away in your phones. this is something entirely new and as embarrassing it is to admit, thrilling. yourself from one year ago never would’ve guessed what her future self is doing right now. how the desires in you can easily be fueled to life just by the trailing of jungkook’s fingers on the smoothness of your thighs, his lips nipping at your neck, or even the simple thought of having his cock filling you up to the brim.

you can’t help but to giggle against his mouth. all of your senses are heightened at this moment, your heart beating aggressively in your chest. he pulls away slightly but his gaze stays on your pink and swollen parted lips, drunk eyes taking in your disheveled state.

“what’s going in that pretty little mind of yours?” he smirks, thumb sneakily rubbing your clit. you try your best to hold out your moan but a broken whine comes out, your head throwing back against the wall of the limited space you’re both squeezed into. only a black curtain and an ‘occupied’ sign in red bold and capital letters separated you from the world outside, where games are being played by people of all ages; loud sound effects and songs from the 2000’s and 2010’s mixing into an ear numbing noise that can only be recognized from an arcade center; and tickets gathered are being exchanged for cute stationary items and trinkets.

“you’re so, so dirty.” you say to him, eyes rolling back as his fingers never let up on their toe curling pace, only making you lose your inhibitions and self-control more than anything else. you clench around them involuntarily, drenching his hand with your juices. “was this your plan all along?”

your eyes widen in shock when the sound of his palm slapping your bare cunt filled the booth, the stinging pain registering in your mind next. “are you fucking crazy? someone might hear!” you whisper angrily at him, but his dark and blown out eyes made you shrink back in your seat. his intimidating, and almost condescending, expression have you gushing against his hand that is now petting your pussy to soothe the pain he inflicted.

“watch your mouth. you and this fucking skimpy dress are the only ones dirty here. you know what this shit does to me.” he smiles at you sweetly. “are you sure this was my plan? are we playing mind games here, baby girl?” his hand comes down from your face to play with the cloth of your blue dress, the other thrusting two of his fingers in you again, then adding another. the stretch has you gripping tightly on his shirt, not having anything else to hold on to.

“fuck, ahhh- jungkook. don’t stop.” god, you are dripping all over, your wetness staining your seat. it makes your cheeks flush in shame.

“just wanted to look pretty for you, i-is all.” you mewl at him, blinking innocently. the camera is not forgotten by jungkook. in fact, it’s one of the things getting him more riled up. the almost blinding light of the flash shines on your soft skin, and the sweat that has formed on your temples and your neck. your pupils are blown and eyelids drooping caused by the pleasure he is giving you. it’s visible how difficult it is for you to keep in all your noises from the people outside the damn curtain when you’re so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you. all because of him. your fucked out state got jungkook gritting his teeth, his dick twitching inside his pants. jesus christ, you get him so fucking turned on and desperate for it without even trying. your beauty is seductive and enchanting and effortless. there is no point in hiding how crazy he is for you.

“my pretty girl. you dressed yourself all nice for me?” he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, before he wraps his hand around your throat, pressing at the right places just enough to make your mind all fuzzy. “i’m such a lucky man. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back at the back of your head at the all consuming feeling taking over senses. you don’t think you can answer correctly if ever someone asks for your name or the colors of the goddamn traffic signs. “y-yeah, for you, of course. love you so much.”

he gives you a satisfied hum, moving down to squeeze one of your breasts with his large hand before pinching your nipple from outside the cotton of your dress. “mhmm, holy fuck. you’re always so sensitive. so easy to please. am i making you feel good?” you don’t know how he can act so casual while you’re basically falling apart in his hands, but for some sick reason, it stirs up the arousal in your belly even more.

“y-yes, kook, i’m so close, please, please, please,” you cry out desperately, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you squeeze his fingers with your walls uncontrollably. “wait, ohhh, stop. stop. i can’t cum here. i- it’s gonna be a mess, this is so embar- fuck, jungkook!” your squeal dies down in your throat when your boyfriend kneels on the ground and starts sucking your clit in his mouth as his fingers inside of you became more aggressive, hitting all the right places that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your desperate and whiny sounds, suddenly becoming aware of where the two of you are right now.

you grip his hair with your hands to steady yourself and unconsciously grind your cunt against his face, his eager tongue doing very sinful things for the sole purpose of making you come undone. he pulls you closer to the edge with his strong arm so he can have better access, eating you out like a man feasting on the divine food of the gods. divine. that’s one perfect word to describe you.

he flicks your clit teasingly before wrapping his pink and plump lips around it again. the overwhelming sight almost makes you want to burst into tears. “hmm, cum for me, baby.” your body jerks in his hold, his words of permission acting as the trigger for your orgasm. he drinks you up greedily, his tongue replacing his fingers’ place in fucking into you, letting you ride out your high.

he comes up to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. you can even feel his wet chin. you moan against him when two fingers dip inside you again, and then he’s having you suck on them almost too enthusiastically. you’re still in a daze from your release, and with jungkook, you’re basically down for anything and everything. you open your eyes to meet his, and if you aren’t already fucked out with his fingers choking you, his hooded eyes will have reduced you into a blabbering mess.

“you’re always so good to me.” he says with a raspy voice. he takes out his fingers and wipes it on his shirt before pulling you in for another kiss. “let’s get out of here so i can fuck you properly like my girl deserves, okay?” you nod meekly, trying to hide your excitement. he fixes you up to make you look presentable enough to walk in public, combing your hair with his fingers and straightening out your dress.

“can’t forget these. don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. it’s for my eyes only.” he gathers all the developed films from the booth, facing you with a teasing smile.

“for your eyes only.” you agree, looking up at him. you open the small backpack you brought along with you and he stuffs them all inside mindlessly, his cock still straining painfully in his pants and he might just lose his mind if he’s still not inside of your pussy in the next five minutes.

“can’t walk properly,” you whine out once you step out of the booth, your boyfriend supporting you by the waist.

“sorry, baby.” he presses an apologetic kiss on your temple. “but i’m not done with you yet.” he really doesn’t give a fuck if anyone heard the both of you at all, but he knows that you’re starting to worry, so he makes sure that you keep your eyes on him as you walk your way out of the place.

“are we going to your place? or mine?” you ask once you get out, the cool air of the mall embracing you. you shiver lightly. your boyfriend doesn’t respond, but when he starts dragging you towards the movie theater that is just beside the arcade, you realize the answer to your question.

“jungkook, really?” you hiss at him, but don’t make any efforts to stop him as he leads you to the restrooms.

“i’m so fucking hard right now, babe. i can’t wait anymore.” they’re about to close up in an hour, so the place is basically deserted. but still, you can’t believe what you’re about to do right now. he peeks in the women’s and once he made sure it’s clear, you go in to the farthest cubicle.

“damn woman,” his throaty chuckle makes your center throb again as you immediately pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his big cock slapping against his stomach. you lick a stripe from his balls up to his tip, then gathering saliva in your mouth and letting it drip down his length. his breathing gets heavier at the sight of doing such a filthy action without him asking you to. he strokes your cheek as you jack him off and give his head kitten licks, your spit acting as an effective lube.

“put it in your mouth now, baby.” he says softly, grasping your hair to guide your mouth on his cock. “choke on it, yeah?” you hum in submission to his request, relaxing your throat to take in as much of him as you can. you start to bob your head up and down to get used to the feeling, your hand still wrapped around the few inches left.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this. i’ve been thinking about it all day.” his confession made you all warm inside. you’ve always wondered how you managed to become his girlfriend. sometimes, it feels to good to be true. knowing the effect you have on him even when you’re not around made you even more determined to blow his damn mind. to be the only star of his wildest dreams.

you go down on him until your nose reach his pubic area, carefully breathing out through it. “oh my god, that’s my girl.” he thrusts his hip forward and holds your head down in place, making you choke on him like he wanted to. his moans sends tingles to your pussy and you rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself of some pressure. he lets you breathe in some air before you take him in your mouth again, swallowing around his length as you move your head up and down.

“ohhh, fuck. your mouth is s-so warm. you like this huh? sucking me off outside our rooms for the first time?” he can’t help but to move his hips as well, instinctively following your mouth. your moans vibrate on his dick, and he hisses at the added sensation. “and you called me what? so, so dirty? turns out you’re just as fucking filthy, baby.” and there it is again, the mischievous smile on his face that makes your knees (that you’re sure will be bruising soon enough) weak. you know that he’s right. you can’t help but to whimper around him when you feel wetness drip from your hole. you want to touch yourself so bad but your hands on your boyfriend’s flexing muscular thighs are what’s keeping you steady and grounded.

“ohh- ah, fuck fuck fuck! are you fucking kidding me?” his body jerks when you take all of him and stay still, contracting your throat around him and massaging his balls in your small and soft hand. his brain goes on a frenzy at the waves of pleasure rippling in his body, sweat rolling down his temples and abdomen working hard to stop himself from cumming down your throat. “s-shit, stop it, stop it, stop, i’m gonna blow my load.”

you pull him out with a pop, hand gripping his base to keep his orgasm at bay. his glassy eyes meet your own, and you give him a wink. “are you gonna fuck me now?”

a shiver runs up jungkook’s spine. “you’re so fucking hot. come here.” he helps you get up and snakes his tongue in your mouth, pinning you on the other side of the cubicle. his hand sneaks in under your dress to cup your center, groaning against your mouth when he felt how wet you are. “shit, you’re soaking. did you get this turned on by sucking my dick?”

“really turned on. i love blowing you.” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, blinking up at him with a smile.

“you’re actually killing me here.” he chuckles, squeezing your ass and pulling you close to grind himself on you. he drags down your panties until you step out of them, throwing it on top of your backpack. he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers. “jump.” you obey, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he pumps his cock a few times before teasingly running the tip along your wet folds, a nudge on your clif making you moan quietly. “put it in, please. jungkook? i’ve been good, right?”

“shhh, i got you.”

you hold on to his neck tightly as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. it’s amazing how you can feel so stretched out from the very beginning, only his tip yet breaching your walls. you never really got used to it. “you’re so big, kook.” you cry out against his shoulder as he sinks his entire length into you. your praise inflates his ego. he lets you adjust for a moment, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

when you gave him the signal, he begins thrusting into you, gradually picking up to a rough and unforgiving pace he knows you like. the lewd squelching sounds of your connected sex filled the empty room.

“sh-should’ve done this sooner. ahh fuck, why does this feel so good?” you’re out of your mind. you can’t remember a time you felt this horny. and to be brutally honest, he’s fucking you dumb right now. you can feel every ridge of his cock in you, can feel his tip furiously and consistently stimulating the spot in you that has you writhing in his arms, that along with his pelvis grinding against your clit each time he fucks back into you.

“jesus, are you hearing yourself right now? you like doing it outside with me, baby?”

“yes, yes! oh, harder, please. m-more, i’m close again.” you sob out, biting on his shoulder to cover your cries.

“can’t believe i got myself a filthy little slut here.” he shakes his head in mock disbelief, adjusting his hold on you and fucking you with a much fiercer drive to make you cream on his cock this time. “f-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he breathes out a laugh followed by a broken moan, your soft walls enveloping him in your wamth. “cum when you need to, hmm? you’ve been so good to me.”

you mutter countless thank you’s mixed with your moans and whimpers, the pleasure getting too much to bear. you throw your head back as you orgasm on your boyfriend’s cock, clenching around him uncontrollably as he fucks you through it, desperate to reach his own high. your juices drip down to his balls, and it makes him crazier. he takes the opportunity create marks on your neck, sucking and biting red and purple on your skin.

it’s not long before overstimulation takes place, but you don’t complain, not when it feels this good. another orgasm hits you, not as intense as the first two, but it still got you seeing stars and your body shaking against the wall.

“did you just cum again? oh god, fucking shit. i’m there- so fucking close. you feel so- oh, so good. love you. love you a lot.”

“i want to swallow your cum.” your voice is barely there, but jungkook hears you just fine. he almost chokes on his own spit upon registering your words in his brain. without wasting any time, he sets you down on the floor and you kneel infront of him, mouth open and tongue out.

he jacks himself off while you generously lick at his frenulum, looking up at him expectantly. the sight of you all eager and impatient for his cum finally triggers his release, aiming for your tongue but some still landing on your cheeks and chin as he’s too overwhelmed and shaken to see straight. you swallow happily, licking the rest from your fingers.

“god, i love you.” he says quietly, pulling you up from the floor and embracing you, but you wiggle out of his grasp.

“love you too but gross, gross, gross. i need to go home and shower.” you whine out, twirling as you try and fix your appearance again.

“not you acting like a brat once you got what you wanted.” he pinches your waist jokingly. he takes tissue from the dispenser to clean up the wetness that dripped down all the way to your thighs, being the loving boyfriend that he is.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout at him. “i’m so tired and gross. i hate you.”

“are you asking for it again?”

“no, i swear to god. you owe me a bubble bath and a massage.”

“okay, fine. my place then.” he gives up, shaking his head with a laugh at your change of mood. “i love you. can i get a kiss then?”

you tiptoe to reach him, slightly pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to give him a smooch. “i love youuu.”

once you both make yourself presentable (again) to the best of your abilities, you head out of the restroom first. you notice the cashier at the popcorn place eyeing you suspiciously, especially when jungkook comes out to meet you a few minutes later. you hide yourself behind him in shame.

you walk out of the mall with his hand over your shoulder, yours on his waist. you look at him questioningly when he covers your neck with more of your hair. “maybe i made a little too much.” he winces apologetically.

“we are never doing that again.” you sigh, your legs still feeling weak but you will yourself to make it all the way to the parking lot.

“what? you said you liked it!”

“it was during the moment. i was delirious.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “you’re lying. let’s see, because that’s also what you said the first time we tried choking.”

“jungkook! shut up!”

—

note: i never know how to finish these runs and hides

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #bts fluff #bts smutt #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook

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real-jane · 4 years ago

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nftn: there in the darkness

(bucky barnes x female!reader, shield)

summary: bucky takes care of y/n when she has a bad dream, and he opens himself up to her more and more.

warnings: reader hits her head, brief mention of a minor injury, bucky talks about his family, both of these idiots are so smitten that its fluff for days, just so much fluff, bucky is a 'gentleman'

word count: 7,146

a/n: part four of ‘nostalgia for the new’! this comes directly after part three. this is also the reason i'm gonna have to up the rating. i can't avoid writing the smut now. ;)

series masterlist

Bucky jolted out of a restless sleep, and it didn’t take more than four bars of Moonlight Sonata for him to press the green button and answer.

“What’s wrong?” he growled sleepily, rubbing his face.

“Can you come up?” you whispered through the other end of the phone, and he was on his feet, toeing on his slippers, throwing on the closest shirt (a black crewneck sweater--a soft one, a gift from you) with his flannel sleep pants, and leaving his suite.

“On my way, love. I’m in the elevator.” Bucky yawned. Tapping his toe didn’t make the elevator go faster, but as soon as he hit the eighth floor, he picked up his gait.

You didn’t speak on the call. You didn’t need to. And you didn’t need to ask him to stay on the line with you, either.

In the days since your return, Bucky had been doing his level best to give you as much space as you needed to decompress from your mission, despite the fact that you were two people who said I love you now. You had insisted that he not worry about you. Bucky Barnes was hard-wired to worry, especially about you, so his phone ringer was on at all times. He wasn’t super surprised that you called, but… he was kicking himself for not offering to stay with you--didn’t even have to be in your bed (although laying on your incredible mattress and holding you close after finally telling you how he felt had made Bucky acutely aware of every single nerve ending in his body, he hadn’t yet confronted the idea that you might want him there deliberately).

He could’ve stayed up with you until you fell asleep, or even slept on your rug. What was yours compared to his? Except closer to you, by your side… ready to jump at a moment’s notice. He might even actually find some peace enough to sleep, knowing you were at arm’s reach.

You hadn’t said much about what you did in Siberia, yet. You told Bucky everything else about your waking moments, but when the conversation would float back to what you had endured apart, you clammed up. He knew you were meeting daily with Doctor Shelby, but if Shelby was anything like Raynor, you weren’t getting much more than a ‘get over it already, you’re a goddamn SHIELD agent’--with the particular soft touch of a laser-guided missile. It wasn’t the kind of therapy that kept agents fighting fit. It was the kind that appeased the government who employed them. The kind that pardoned men like James Barnes. “Anybody who would pardon a man like me should have their license revoked,” Bucky had spat at Steve during a particularly brutal sparring session at the beginning of his recovery. Steve had let Bucky pummel him until his face was too swollen to speak, and then he sat with Bucky while he cried.

Bucky hated that Shelby was all you were offered, and he knew it wasn’t enough. You had taken a man’s life, he heard you debrief the event with Fury… you valued human life on a different scale than Bucky ever had. He hated to admit it, but you saw worth in lives where there was no room for anything but darkness. Maybe that’s why you loved him, he thought. You saw value in him. Not a monster lurking in the darkness, but the man who would save you from it.

Your sniffles through the phone broke his heart into little pieces. He’d glue you back together--he would. No matter what it took.

In reality, you had done more for him since you got back than he could reasonable pay back; putting a stop to the transfusions (with a very angry Steve by your side--you two made a terrifying pair) and encouraging him off the protein-forward regime which was supposed to make his blood more viable for Shaw’s tests had meant Bucky actually felt… decent. He even slept a few nights. Whether that was due to not eating a high-burning diet or just being near you was yet to be determined. Bucky was quite satisfied if the answer was both.

The door to 805 was unlocked as he came to it--you had hacked your bioscreener a few days after getting home (“For safety,” you had told him. “In what way is it safer if someone doesn’t need to have your fingerprint to get inside?” he had scoffed. “If you can’t get in, and I need you…” He had left the topic alone, then. You had looked too sad, like you were anticipating something happening. You were right.), and he couldn’t be more grateful for your affinity for shutting down tech which limited either of you from having the most access to each other. Or conversely, when you shut off that access from others. His ankle monitor sat beside his bed like a tribute to your first date.

Bucky slipped inside your suite, and locked the padlock behind himself. Instantly, he realized you must be in the en-suite washroom, considering that there was golden light streaming from the crack beneath the door and the rest of the room was pitch dark. He hung up the call and leaned against the washroom door frame.

“Y/n,” he murmured with a soft tap on the door.

Your voice was broken. “Buck?”

“Mhm. Okay if I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He pushed open the door, and his heart lurched. The door knocked against your discarded cell phone. He stooped down and replaced it on the counter, out of the way. You were huddled in the corner of the tiny room, hood pulled up and arms buried deep inside the sleeves of the sweatshirt you had liberated from Bucky’s dresser before Siberia. Tears streamed down your cheeks, what he could see of them.

“Oh, doll.” He knelt beside you. “Bad dream?”

Bucky didn’t touch you but he curled his fingers into his palms to stay the impulse until he knew you wanted to be held or helped up. It had been a long time since he had suffered the same sort of night terrors, but he remembered the feeling well of his skin crawling, like if anybody touched him, he might detonate. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel unsafe.

You nodded. “Terrors. Got sick, too.” You pressed your forehead to your knees. “I knew it wasn’t real but I couldn’t shake it. When I finally woke up, I was barely conscious long enough to realize what was gonna happen with my stomach. I made it before… you know. But look.” You pulled your hood back enough for Bucky to see the cut above your eyebrow, and reddened, streaming eyes. “Fucking door frame. My cast slipped on the tile. All I could think to do was call you, I feel so pitiful.”

He winced. The cut was trickling a little trail of blood down your temple. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Can I get you cleaned up?”

You swiped at your nose with your sleeve, but you nodded again. “You were asleep, weren’t you?” The thought that you had disturbed his sleep made you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I haven’t got two hours of sleep strung together in about eight decades,” he lied. “God forbid I’m ever well-rested--I wouldn’t be grumpy anymore.”

“Can’t have that.”

Bucky felt the surge of victory when you smiled. He asked for your consent silently to touch your cheek, holding out his hand. You leaned into the warmth of his skin.

“What do you need?”

“I feel so gross,” you hiccoughed. “I definitely sweated through my sheets. I just wanna get away from this feeling. Ugh.”

“Shower? Glass of water? Something to eat? Or...” You were watching him with a faint smile, waiting. Bucky cleared his throat. The words just kept flowing. “Uhhh, I will hop the security fence for ice cream? I can… bring you Brock Rumlow’s head in a duffel bag? Some kind of soft, cuddly animal? Any of that strike your fancy?”

“Double gin and tonic might do the trick. And a bubble bath. And… a grumpy companion?”

“That goes without saying,” he chuckled. “Oh--sorry.” Bucky frowned performatively, making an extra effort to scowl at you despite the fact that your face was finally relaxed. “I’m not thrilled about you drinking with that head wound. How about a bubble bath, and tea?”

You shrugged, but that was good enough for him. “Can you sit up for me?” He pushed the hood off your head. He leveled his eyes with yours and observed your corneas, like he had done less than a week prior in Medical. “No sleeping until I say, okay? I just wanna be sure you don’t need Medical.”

“Okay.”

“I think I’m gonna get you a matching helmet to mine,” he said gently.

Your eyes bugged. “A motorcycle helmet?”

“Why not? Gonna get you on that thing eventually.” His eyes crinkled when your jaw tensed.

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” Bucky sat back on his heel and leaned over to the cabinet beneath the sink, where he knew you kept your first aid kit. He fished an alcohol pad from the meticulously organized box.

“I clearly can’t be trusted with my own body, Bucky.”

“You trust me though.”

“You’re the only person I trust, and you can rub that in Sam’s face the next time he makes fun of you for missing me. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a recipe for an accident.”

He had raised his hand to dab at your forehead but he froze, raising an eyebrow. “...You do remember that you’re SHIELD special operations?”

As he touched the cotton pad to your forehead, you winced. “My specialization isn’t vehicles, Barnes! I’ll have you know that it--ow, fuck! It took me twice to pass my driver’s cert, and I passed because of a technicality!”

“So? You won’t be driving.” Bucky finished cleaning your cut and applied a butterfly bandage. “And this won’t be an assignment, unless you consider escaping the compound for a few hours to see some autumn leaves an assignment.” Bucky grasped your cheeks in both hands, and rubbed your skin with the pads of his thumbs. “Doll, you’re safe with me. You don’t gotta worry.” Then, as an afterthought, and he didn’t realize he was saying it until it came out: “You're adorable.”

You snorted. “I’m sure I look real cute right about now.”

“You deeply underestimate how cute you are,” Bucky said gently.

“You will get sick of me, solving my issues.”

“Due respect, but… if I never did anything but fix things you needed fixing, I’d still happily live another century.” He stood and offered his arm so you could lean on him without pushing off your cast. “And--Sam didn’t make fun of me. For missing you. He, uh… he made it okay, he doesn’t make things a big deal. So. he let me work things out for myself. Babble words at him,” Bucky laughed nervously, “until I realized what I had to do. You can trust him.”

Your face relaxed until you were giving him those doe eyes--the ones that told him your brain hadn’t quite caught up to your heart. Happened whenever he said something a little sappy. You’d always get him back for it, too, with something so damned heart-felt that Bucky questioned whether or not he was dreaming.

“Can I confess something?” You leaned into his body and he hugged you tight.

“Mhm.”

“I texted Sam about you. A lot.”

Bucky shook with laughter. “Define a lot.”

“Bucky. I have a text diary about you from every day I was gone, when I couldn’t even reply. ‘B drank five cups of coffee. Boxing with B, socked him in the jaw. Still criminally handsome, don’t worry. B keeps asking me how to change his phone background. Suspicious.” You laughed. “I trust Sam with your life. And I trust you with my heart.”

He froze. You zinged him. You got him so good. He hated when you did that because it choked him for any coherent words, and he hoped you never stopped. Maybe it should bother him that Sam was reporting his every movement, but it didn’t; you wanted to know that he was okay, and Sam did his duty to you. For as much crap as Sam gave him, he believed in the pair of you. Bucky certainly trusted Sam Wilson. What a guy.

Bucky cupped the back of your head and eased your hair from the raucous bun you always twisted your hair in to sleep. The hum of contentment you made gave him courage to step away from a topic which might truly end him: being yours. You being his. Being one entity. It boggled the mind.

“You gonna be good if I go make you some tea?”

“Mhm. I’ll start my bath.”

“Okay. You up for a kiss?”

You turned your face away from his chest to look up at him. “I will be. Once you’re back.”

“Deal.” He kissed your forehead to confirm his reservation. “Ten minutes tops.” Bucky left you in the washroom as you turned on the faucet for the tub.

Once the washroom door was shut, he quickly shucked the sheets off your bed and tucked them under his arm. On his way to the floor eight kitchen, he tossed your linens into the communal washing machines. Then, he raced to make you tea. He knew you kept two mugs in the kitchen, as well as a thriving stash of tea masquerading as a box of saltine crackers, so he turned on the water to boil and unwrapped two bags of chamomile. In the Vermont mug, because you and the ceramic vat were meant for comfort.

Bucky hastened down to his suite and retrieved his extra sheets--the flannel ones that were new enough to be warm still, but gently used enough to have reached that ideal level of softness. Bucky had only used them when he caught the flu (apparently super immunity was conditional to strains his body had already been exposed to, pre-serum) in the previous winter, and succumbed to actually laying on his bed. He knew they were far and away the best sort of sheets for recovery.

By the time he made it back to the floor eight kitchen, the water was ready for pouring. He prepped your tea, including a tablespoon of honey and a splash of oat milk, stole a bar of chocolate from a cabinet which was labeled Ellis’ Food--do not touch!, and grabbed a bag of earl grey for himself as an afterthought. He splashed water into the much smaller mug and hastened back to your suite with his stash. He managed the door without burning himself.

***

By the time the tub had filled with bubbles, the washroom was engulfed with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. You sank into warmth as easily as you could with a broken ankle; it brought some fresh tears to your eyes to be immersed in such comfort. God bless Tony Stark, you thought, submerging the plastic printed ankle cast he had designed, to replace the plaster and bandages the hospital had sent you home with. Too bad the damned thing was so slippery. He’d be receiving notes.

You already felt better after washing your mouth out, taking several ibuprofen, and getting some shampoo into your hair. Less panicked about closing your eyes again and being thrown straight back into a hellscape, one in which you didn’t find the girls in time. Where he won, and it was your throat that kissed his knife.

The fact that you had called Bucky wasn’t something you were proud of--you knew he’d come, no questions asked. It felt like taking advantage of his goodness. But somebody loved you, and it was a man who deeply understood what wading through pain felt like. He saw you, all snotted up and bleeding, feeling disgusting, and he asked to kiss you.

All it took to find him was just having a little cry about missing Grandma Kath, while listening to Benny Goodman. It was so bizarre, the timing. Not a week after you finally buy a replacement needle for your record player--one late night feeling things a little more intensely than felt safe-- and the next morning… Bucky.

The strange and beautiful happiness of loving him wasn’t an accident though. He chose this, you both did. You had to remind yourself that he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t want to be.

You sank beneath the water and let it engulf you. The sounds deadened. You worked the soap from your hair, paying extra care to your scalp. The relief of feeling the dream dissolve in the water, it was a blessing. Clean.

Faintly, the door to your suite clicked open, and Bucky’s shuffling feet came in. He was doing something out in the main living area, but you couldn’t tell what. You sat up, letting the water run off your face in rivulets. Your brow stung, but the bandage held.

“Bucky?” you called. Almost immediately, the washroom door opened and he peeked in.

“How ya doing?” He smiled, but his eyes glinted with delight to see you swathed to the chin in bubbles.

“I brushed my teeth, I drank two glasses of water, and I washed my hair--kiss, please.”

He knelt down beside the tub. You inclined your head to meet him in a gentle kiss. He hummed against your mouth. The sweet thing about kissing Bucky Barnes is that it always felt like he had nowhere else to be. No rush, no desire to do anything else except feel your lips against his. What was wasted time to a man who had lived so long?

Here he was. And… you were naked. You hadn’t really thought that far when you had asked for a bubble bath and his company… Oh god.

Bucky kissed your cheek, and then your forehead. “You’re looking like you feel better.”

“I am.” You sat back against the porcelain, and you realized his cheeks were flushed, too. Hmmm.

“You good?”

“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Your tea is out there, it’s too hot to drink right now.”

“Thank you. Do you… do you mind staying in here and talking with me?” While I marinate in bubbles and lavender? Clearly, hitting your head had knocked something loose. Your temple throbbed.

“That was our deal.” Bucky made himself comfortable on the opposite wall, so you didn’t have to crane your neck. He let his right hand drape over the edge of the tub, inviting you to lace your fingers. You took him up on it.

“Tell me about your dream?” he asked. When you frowned, he shook his head and squeezed your hand. “You gotta get it outta your body, doll.”

You couldn’t make coherent words about what you had experienced in your sleep. He was right, but. Your memory of it still hadn’t settled into something concrete enough to explain. “I know. I’ll tell you about it, but… not just now.”

“Okay.” He leaned his head against the wall. Bucky took a beat to watch you over top of your bubble mountain. “You know… I spent a lot of time having nights like this. Back when I first… ‘got clean,’ Raynor calls it. For lack of a better term.”

You scoffed. “I hate her.”

“She had a point. She didn’t warn me that something in me was gonna have to crack open before it got easier. I think this is that point, for you, and from here on out… you’ll be okay.” His face was so soft, and he gave you that little half smile that felt like it belonged only to you.

“They don’t normally get to me like this,” you admitted. “I’m usually so steady.”

“Nobody is steady all the time.”

“You are. You keep watch over the lighthouse.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

“You never waiver from your purpose. And I know I can always count on you to keep the light shining, so I can find my way back.”

He tilted his head. “Doll, do you ever get tired of saying such nice things?”

“Not to you.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed your fingers. “Well.” He sighed, which sounded a bit like he wanted to press the matter--say what he usually did (thanks, but I don’t deserve it)--but he bit back the urge.

“Would you tell me a little bit about that time? We haven’t really talked about it. You don’t have to, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Sam said you don’t say much--”

“Ha. I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.” Bucky rubbed his chin.

“I’m sorry for pressing--”

“Doll, please.” He scooted closer so he could lean against the side of the tub. He released your hand and propped his head up. Then, he took your fingers between his metal ones, smooth and cool, and tucked them into the crook of his elbow. He patted your hand. If he so much as flicked his eyes downward, he’d be able to see much more of you than he’d had the pleasure to thus far. His eyes remained dutifully trained on yours.

“So, uh. Where to start?”

“Did you… did you move in here right away?”

“Post-deprogramming?”

“Yeah.”

“Steve insisted on it. Fury was extremely hesitant, but Stark thought it was better than putting me on the Raft, if for no other reason than he could monitor me personally.”

“Tony took your side?”

“No,” he scoffed. “He just didn’t wanna fight Steve after everything. So here I am, straight from Wakanda with hair down to my shoulders and a thick beard, walking into a place I’m supposed to live... where I know ninety percent of the people hate me.”

“I can’t imagine what went through your mind.”

He scratches his head. “Well… straight off the bat, I hate it. There’s so many people, the only ones familiar with me are accustomed to being on the business end of my gun, and on top of all that… it’s massive, confusing, and there’s no place to be alone, except my suite. So I just… stay in my room. Steve keeps trying to get me to at least to run, or something, but I’m still not able to look him in the eye, so Captain America camps outside my room with a copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ and then before I know it--he’s leaving piles of books out there. It’s embarrassing,” he laughs, “so I bring them in and start sorting through ‘em… Doll, he’s leaving me like… classic stuff that I never would’a touched in school. We’re talking Shakespeare plays. Jane Austen. Some real classic science fiction.”

“He made you a bookworm!” You smiled.

“What else do I have to do? I won’t talk to him, I won’t come out, he’s handing me my own library--so I read. Begrudgingly. Until he gives me Siddartha. And then I hunt him down in the lounge on five, and make him--I mean, I don’t think any force was required, if I recall correctly he tells me he’s been waiting--and I make him tell me why he’s so determined not to find fault with me.”

You squeezed his arm. “What did he say?”

“With you ‘till the end of the line, pal.” Bucky sighed. “After that, he doesn’t leave my side. Goes with me to therapy, stares down any asshole who makes a comment in the halls. Gets me comfortable with the layout of this place. And then one day, he sits me down and…” Bucky trailed off. He was sad, it was easy to see it in the way his brow furrowed, but he didn’t look away from you.

“When the Army presumed I was dead, they sent Steve a box of my belongings. Uniform and all. It’s so weird seeing it on a mannequin in a museum now, next to my big head. But… Steve knew my family would want something of mine, so he took my Ma my dog tags.”

He pointed to the hook on the wall where you had hung them, next to his sweatshirt. Your own clothes were puddled beneath them on the floor, but Bucky’s things you handled reverently.

“Your poor parents.”

“I know. Imagine that conversation.”

Your face must’ve mirrored how heartbroken you felt for him, because he laced your fingers together.

“So, he tells me that, and it’s the first time I realize… I don’t know what happened to my family. That--that killed me for a while. I hadn’t even thought about them, and Ma spent the rest of her life thinking I was dead.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. Her headstone’s real nice. Steve took me on her birthday last year. She outlived my father by almost ten years, and by the time she passed, most of that section of the cemetery was filled up. I think she would’ve been pleased to be a few rows away from him,” he laughed. “Her plot is right next to mine, though. She buried my football uniform under my headstone.”

“Bucky--”

“Hey,” he soothed, brushing your cheek. “It’s just how it is.”

“Yeah, but god.”

“Nah. Just a man.”

You shoved his arm weakly and he smiled, despite the sadness that had crept in. “I outlived my siblings, I’m sorry to say. My sister Rebecca… you would’ve loved her. And she would’ve died over you. Covert agent? Sharp-shooter? Not to mention that whole thing of being able to hack any program like you designed it--”

“I did design the Bucky-sitter--”

“Which would’ve amused her to no end,” he finished. “My other two sisters were still so young when I enlisted. None of them lived long enough to see me in the papers, thank god.”

You touched his stubbly chin. “I’m so sorry… you’ve got me, you know? As long as you want. And Sam, and Steve--”

“I know. That wasn’t me fishing for affection—not that I mind it. I’m just babbling now. I don’t know how we even got on this subject...” Bucky scooped up a handful of bubbles and plopped it on top of your head. “Are you a prune, yet? Let’s look.” He turned your hand over. “Oh yeah. Time to get outta there. Where’s your towel?”

“Hanging on the door with my robe.”

His threshold had been reached, but that was okay. The fact that he had been willing to share that much with you felt like such a gift. Steve made the observation to you once that Bucky let you see a part of him that nobody else got to see. He loved Steve, too, but it was easy for him to tell you things. Words flowed easier with you. In Cap's mind, it was because you didn’t expect anything from Bucky. While that wasn’t strictly true--you expected normal things from him that anyone would when they were in a relationship: decency, respect, honesty, loyalty--you certainly didn’t have any of his past incarnations to hold him accountable to.

Bucky hopped up carefully, given that the floor was slightly wet beside the tub from you leaning on it, and retrieved both your towel and your robe, the second of which he slung over his arm. Then, he held open the towel for you. He was flushed, but… Bucky wasn’t embarrassed, not really, that you were entirely nude and about to reveal that to him if you took the towel as offered. You tugged up the stopper on the tub, and then winced. There was no way you were standing up out of the slippery water with your cast, even if it was waterproof.

“I’m gonna need your help,” you peeped.

Bucky laid the garments across the counter. You extended your hands to him, but he went a step further; he leaned down and wrapped his arms under yours. Lifting you was so easy for him that you were upright and out of the tub in a moment, but he held you close to his chest. Bucky reached behind himself blindly until he found your towel, which he draped over your shoulders, and then cradled you wet and naked to his body. He laid his head on top of yours, and let out a slow, measured breath.

“You’re gonna be wet!” Your voice was muffled in his soft sweater.

“Don’t care.”

Your skin practically prickled with awareness. That’s a new kink, you thought, as you realized how much your body reacted to the fact that he was entirely clothed and you were not. God. Maybe you shouldn’t have been thinking that way, but. You couldn’t help it. Was he thinking about it, too? How could he not?

“Let me look at your eyes.” He touched your chin. You followed his eyes as they watched yours. He was checking for a concussion, but it felt more like he was mapping out the colors in your irises. “I think you’re in the clear, patient.”

“Thank you, doctor.” You folded your arms to your chest, between your body and his, and sighed. “Buck?”

“Shoot.” His hand made circles on your back. It wasn’t helping to dry you, or calm your awareness of him, but it was nice. Made your toes curl. Woof. Must distract myself--

“Maybe it’s about time I think about retirement,” you said quickly. “Get a cat--not that Tony would ever okay that in his precious compound. But. I could pretend like I’m a normal person.”

“What brought this on?”

You shook your head, as much as a person could when a gentle but strong man was rubbing one’s nape. “Second mission in a row I’ve been injured. There’s one common denominator.”

“...that your job is dangerous?” he suggested lightly. “That you put yourself in harm’s way for the greater good?”

“If that’s what you call slipping in heels.”

“Not like I could do any better, doll.”

“Bucky!” you groaned.

You shivered, so he pulled your robe around your shoulders. You pushed away from his warmth reluctantly, and tied your robe (once you shimmied your towel to the ground). It was probably for the best, given how your body was just about thrumming.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry. Go on.” Bucky hung up your towel, so he didn’t see you lean back and appreciate the sight of him bending over to get it. When he turned back around, you smiled innocently.

“I don’t know,” you said, opening the washroom door. You hobbled to your bed and sat. He had set your mug of tea on your bedside table (in addition to flicking on your small lamp), so you propped up your broken foot, and took the mug in hand. The scent of the chamomile filled your sinuses.

“Most agents don’t think like this, right? Surely Natasha Romanoff isn’t complaining to Captain America when they go to bed: ‘gee, Steve, this is too much. I’m thinking about giving all this up--”

Bucky paused with one hand extended to grab a second mug from your desktop. “Hang on--you think Steve and Nat are a thing?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re joking.”

“No!” He leaned against your desk with a hilariously disturbed expression on his face, like you were bringing him information that he heretofore thought impossible.

“Have you not seen them together? He stares at her mouth.”

And he did; Steve Rogers spent a lot of time pretending he wasn’t, but you had outright caught him during Nat’s birthday celebration, memorizing the shade of her sinfully red lipstick, and he had made eye contact with you by accident--it’s not like you ranked that moment as the funniest victory of your life, watching Captain America go fully crimson-cheeked and chug a glass of whiskey that wouldn’t affect him in the slightest. But you’d still stake your life on it.

Bucky snorted. “I stare at your mouth.”

You laughed. “You’re proving my point!”

He sat beside you, scooting you over on the mattress like he needed to be closer to understand what you were saying. “I think I would’ve noticed if my primary best friend--”

“Sam is going to be heartbroken!”

“--was seeing a woman. Especially that woman!” He punctuated his statement by poking your thigh, and then squeezing it.

“You’re not very observant, Barnes.” You cupped his cheeks. “Ten dollars says they’ve been seeing each other. For a while.”

“Okay. You’re on! But if you’re wrong, mmph--”

You kissed him. If only to make him see reason, and not because your body was having a very hard time behaving. “I’m not. They leave gatherings within five minutes of each other. He always pours two cups of coffee in the caf… come on. She calls him Stevie.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkled but he continued to feign annoyance. “You’re obviously really exhausted--”

“You can deny it all you want. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Well. Regardless.” He kissed you this time, and snickered when you gasped. “I’m sure any agent in this place has those feelings, doll. About work--not about Steve and Nat.”

You chewed your lip for a moment. “What if I wanted to walk away?”

He shrugged. “Then we walk.”

“Yeah?” Your heart flipped.

“If you go, I go. Simple as that.” Bucky rubbed your arm. “When you’re ready to walk, just say the word.”

You leaned forward and pressed your face into his shoulder with a resigned Oomph. He hugged you close. “I gotta run down the hall real quick, I’ll be right back. If you want me to stay.”

“Please.”

“Good.” He kissed your forehead. “Get cozy. I’ll be two minutes.”

He hopped up. He poked his head into the washroom, scooped up your discarded clothing, and was out your door before you could say anything more.

As you pulled on fresh pajamas, you knew that he meant it. Was it too short of time? To be thinking that way? In terms of living another hundred years, and making big life choices together, without a second thought…

Another thought hit between your ribs: what was Bucky meant to do with his life, now?

You padded into the washroom and took James Buchanan Barnes’ dog tags from the hook. The metal was cold in your hand. One glance in the mirror and you stopped--leaned forward. The cut above your eyebrow was still red, but… there was life in your skin. A little blotchy from crying, flushed from the heat of the bath and the cuddle just after, but your lips weren’t pulled in a tight line that signified the weight of the mission you bore. Things were going to be alright. Your hands were steady. Your mind was still sharp, even when it was a little raw. You’d be back out there again, doing the work that your… boyfriend? Man… friend. Beau? Blech. Anyway. The work Bucky said was good, no matter what you called him.

And he was going to stay. Like. Stay, stay. All night. But you were a reasonable woman--and it was nearing three in the morning, it wasn’t like this was the right time to dig a little deeper into why being cared for made your body stand at attention--oh god. This was embarrassing. If Bucky knew that’s how you were thinking about him, lifting you out of the tub like it was nothing… Sergeant Barnes--No! You filled the glass beside the faucet with water and chugged.

Truth be told, after all the excitement, you were exhausted. Right? You were absolutely a normal person, with normal levels of attraction to their romantic partner. You investigated your tea beside your bed--cool now, but you didn’t mind--and Vermont is for Lovers taunted you. You turned the mug so the words faced the opposite wall, and hung the dog tags from the switch. You pulled back your comforter. The latch on your door clicked open and you wheeled around.

“You didn’t have to change my sheets!” you practically panted.

His eyes were wide and his smile sheepish. “Sure I did. You sweated through them, you said so yourself--”

“Oh my god, Bucky!” He really had no idea what he was doing to you.

“What?” his face fell, but you held out your hands. He closed your door and locked it. Then, he came to you. You took both of his hands and tugged until he knelt before you.

“Why are you so… this?”

“Big talk coming from you,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. “It was my turn. Get in there.”

You all but leapt into the comfort of the flannel, as much as you could with a clunker of a cast. You scooted all the way over and patted the bed beside you. Eagerly. Bucky sat on the edge and toed off his slippers.

“Do you mind if I don’t sleep in this?” he gestured to his sweater, “I’m a furnace.” You must have grinned, because he blushed. “I guess that’s a no.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I… might enjoy you being shirtless?” you dared to ask.

“No,” he chuckled. “You deserve control over your space, so I figured it was considerate.”

“You just held me completely nude.”

“Sure. But you being nude isn’t license for me to do anything about it,” he said firmly. He looked at you over his shoulder, and it forced you to see the stricken look on his face. “...You do feel safe with me, don’t you?”

You nodded, and that was enough for him. Safe? Definitely. Generally at risk of combustion? One hundred percent.

He tugged his sweater off in one fluid motion (hand over head, and pull), bearing the skin of his back to you. You’d seen his scars before--touched them, even worked out knots that developed in his neck, but he was beautiful. He didn’t jump when you pressed your palm to the small of his back. Bucky sighed.

“You good?” you asked.

Bucky laid on his side and turned towards you, slipping his legs beneath your comforter. He bracketed his left arm around your waist and tugged you until you were nose-to-nose. “Best I’ve ever been.”

You looped your arm under his, burrowing into the safety of his shoulder and nosing his neck. “Please don’t leave.”

“In about a half hour, I gotta go throw your clothes in the dryer--”

“I mean my life, my… my suite, my bed. Don’t leave me.”

He took in a real ragged breath, like he wasn’t quite able to fully breathe, and he tugged your hair back gently until you looked at him. “I won’t.”

The featherlight touch of his lips enveloping yours made you shiver. This kiss was different from the one in the hangar a few days ago. Where that one had felt like a new beginning, having your body cradled between his sheets on your mattress, after one of the worst night’s sleep--knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that he would come when you called every time--you gasped. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, rolling you onto your back. As quickly as it began, the kiss tamed into a gentle touch. He smiled down at you. His eyes were nearly green from the yellow lamp’s glow.

Bucky silently reached down and tapped your knee. You moved to accommodate his request, and he readjusted his position so he was laying between your knees. “This okay?” he murmured. His fingers brushed stray hairs from your cheeks.

“More than ok.”

“Been awhile.”

“Hmm?” Your hands had a mind of their own; one was carding through his hair (messing up and then fixing his style), while the other traced the curve of his waist. He narrowed his eyes.

“Can I be completely frank?” He looked nervous.

“Sure.”

He winced. “My body is doing its own thing right now, and I’m trying to be a gentleman about it. You’re under duress, this is not about me, but if it’s a problem--”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face. “I have been kicking myself for the last twenty minutes for the same issue. I’ve been talking myself off the ledge.”

“You’re serious,” he said in amazement. When you nodded and peeked at him over your fingertips, he smiled wryly. “I am very surprised you haven’t noticed before. I have this problem a lot around you.”

“You know how I’m always overheated? Yeah… that’s not a thing. I’m hot and bothered. Especially after we shadowbox.”

“So am I! This is--”

You nodded vigorously. “Fine. Maybe not the time, given--”

“Right. But. We both would be into this.”

“Right.”

“Good.”

You grinned at each other like idiots for a moment. He leaned up and turned off your bedside light, but you could still see his face in the moonlight. He had propped his head up to observe you, and he wasn’t hiding the way he was definitely staring at your lips.

“When you say it happens a lot--”

He scoffed. “I have been handsy around you for far longer than is entirely appropriate.”

“I thought you were just a touchy person.”

“If touching your arm or your back, or whatever, was as good as it was gonna get, then… by God. That was gonna have to be enough.”

“Did you get me that kevlar suit for the same gentlemanly reasons?”

He wrinkled his nose with mock seriousness. “We should sleep--”

You smacked his chest. “James Barnes!”

“What? It’s not weird now, right? And now you’re so safe, in that suit which leaves nothing to my imagination--”

“Oh my god. This conversation is unreal.” You nudged his chin with your knuckles gently, and then gripped it. “But, you did a damn good job distracting me from my nightmare. Thank you.”

“Welcome.” He pecked you swiftly on the mouth and then rolled over, opposite direction from your bum ankle. He didn’t move far, and his cool metal hand was chilly at your hip. “We’ll see if I sleep; I’m not used to a mattress.”

“My floor is yours, should that be a problem. Meantime… think you can risk cuddling me?”

“Worth a shot.” He slipped his arm beneath your neck and used the other to pull you tight to his chest. There was… definite evidence of his problem, as he so elegantly put it, when he intertwined his legs with yours. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye with a knowing smirk and he buried his face in your neck, shaking with embarrassed, happy laughter. “Just ignore it,” he grumbled.

Suffice to say, you had better dreams for the remainder of the night. You called out in your sleep just once, but he was there to hold you close, and tell you that everything was okay. And when you woke up the next morning, as soon as the sun came streaming through your blinds…

Bucky was softly snoring.

Part 3

Part 5

tag list: @peterhollandkait @morticiaofthedead @hogwartsahist0ry @harrietbaudelaire @general-kenobi357

message to be added to the tag list. <3

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #nostalgia for the new by realjane

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askthechucktruck · 2 years ago

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Ight so my overall season review!

6.5/10

Of course I was absolutely SAT for every goddamn episode and was left wondering what would happen next Wednesday.It was a wave of nostalgia that hit me every moment it got and I am NOT mad about it. I could tell that unlike season 1 this was a tribute to Dons Chucky movies that he filmed(Seed, curse, etc.). Basically season 1 was meant to drag in those that know the childs play movies og tone. And season 2 was for the actual die hard fans.

Now that that’s out of the way I just have to say that there was absolutely no real plot. Season 1s whole plot was that Chucky was doing the things he did for his army of himself. And this season just was about…trying to kill him off for good? Which they didn’t even succeed in? As for Jake, Devon, And Lexi?? They had NO part in this season if I’m being honest- it was mostly just showing how Chucky is the reason they are having all these problems in their life now. Like I’m sorry but- I’m pretty sure me, and the audience were mostly focused on the show stealers which was the Ray family drama all together. Whenever Tiffany, Chucky, and Glen/Glenda/GG were in a scene I was hanging onto every word. Then it would go back to the ‘main characters’ and I would kinda drift out of it.

Not including Nadine. Nadine was also a show stealer.

I think Dr.Mixter was a sorta good side villain but I really didn’t think we needed anymore unnecessary backstory in Charles Lee Rays life, ya know? Other than that I’m proud of Tiffany’s development. But very very angry about the ending. Chucky used some sort of glamour to replicate his face into the Belle dolls..? I mean it’s a twist alright.. but ‘kill off’(we didn’t see it on screen nor did we see her die so I’m adding quotes). Sure. Anyways can’t wait to see Jennifer next season.

But let’s talk about the real highlight of the entire show that alone would earn it a Grammy in my eyes.

BILLY FUCKING BOYDS RETURN!!

Nearly brought me to fucking tears…

#movies #chucky #horror #film #child’s play #tiffany valentine #tiffany ray #chucky tv series #chuckytvseries #art #brideofchucky #glen ray #Glenda ray #GG #good season though

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cliocodex · 3 years ago

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skating

Oh, hey, it's a wee snippet of Meetra/Atton fluff with a touch of angst - shocking I'd write such a thing! Belongs to the KotOR RockAU - maybe becomes more than a snippet one day. Props always to @arturas-writes for writing this world with me. Read the full thing here on AO3.

“Uh….what are these?”

Atton’s wearing that damn grin and a quizzical look - and holding up a rather neglected pair of sky blue suede roller skates. Her roller skates. The ones she’s not worn in how many years?

“Skates.” Meetra’s tone is cool and matter-of-fact, like she’s just been caught up in some sort of scandal but can plausibly deny any sort of involvement. “Roller skates.”

Although maybe the cool slips just a bit because Atton’s grin gets bigger. “Yeah, I know they are skates. But YOUR skates? Seem a bit….bright?”

It’s not so much a question as an accusation - or so it feels in Meetra’s inexplicably panicked brain. No, there’s a reason for the panic. Atton’s grin says he’s seen more than the skates. He’s seen the fucking rainbow sparkle helmet and goddamn matching pads. And he knows they are her skates. Yeah, they aren’t her usual black but look, if you are gonna fucking quad skate you might as well embrace the aesthetic. And blue suede skates with light-up wheels and a rainbow helmet look pretty damn sweet with black hot pants.

She’d been more regular than good. In the early days of Revanchist it was one of the few things she did apart from the band - or rather apart from Revan and Alek. Hit the beach boardwalk, headphones in, just skate. Nothing fancy. Sometimes she’d wake up early on a weekday and head to the skate park - rarely folks there then - just to see if she could maybe make it up a ramp or two. Always that precarious balance of the exhilaration of speed and the fear of crashing hard.

Maybe not so different than being on stage really.

The panic wanes. Turns to some other emotion - nostalgia? Regret?

#kotor #jedi exile #atton rand #kotor 2 #star wars fanfiction #clio codex fics #atton x meetra #meetra surik #roller skating #the author may own sky blue suede quad skates with light up wheels

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after-witch · 4 years ago

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Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Title: Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Synopsis: request, “Please I love that troupe where Shigaraki gets obsessed with a twitch stream and deluded himself into believing they’re together until he finally takes her home 🥰”

notes: yandere, kidnapping mention, creeper

Shigaraki glances down at the notification on his phone and his chest suddenly feels tight, anxiety blooming across his skin which makes him want to scratch, scratch, scratch. Your Twitch is live again--fuck, he can’t miss it. He rapidly presses the save button on his Switch, impatient to devote his entire attention to his phone screen--to you.

But fuck, do you make it hard on him lately. You stream so much more now that you’ve gotten followers, gotten popular; donations have become a regular feature rather than something surprising, but those other guys, the ones who flash big donations and write insipid comments, aren’t really fans of yours. Not like he is. He’s been watching and donating and praising you since you were a nobody, a nothing streamer with barely 10 viewers per stream.

That was back when you used to just play games with your cheap little pink earbuds and your messy room behind you. When you used to feel more real, used to express yourself more openly.

You stumbled over words and reacted naturally, which meant you were boring--or you would be boring, to someone that didn’t know you like he did. Sometimes the small circle of viewers would dwindle down to just Shigaraki and you’d talk to him, only him, replying to his chat messages with earnest honesty. Smiles. Jokes. It was so goddamn cute. He always donated one last time before signing off for the night and you would curl your fingers in a heart and cheerfully bid him good night.

But now that you’re getting big, you’re more polished, more presentable, more popular. And less… like you, he thinks. You cleared out some little room just for your gaming streams and you have a nice headset now, a background that he can tell you carefully set up to create just the right vibe. You don’t have time for one-on-one convos with your viewers, because your streams never dwindle down, never fizzle out until you’re left awkwardly signing off.

They’re full-fledged productions, now, whether you’re gaming or doing a Q&A or--these have become one of his favorites--doing a cute yet clearly rehearsed “sleepy morning” stream in your pajamas, picture-perfect coffee in your hand, where you muse about life and love and strawberry pancakes.

It’s cute, he admits, but it’s also too rehearsed. He misses the real you, the real personality that you used to let shine through when hardly anybody was watching. You would only show the real you for him, but now that he’s just one amongst a crowd, you keep yourself protected. He understands. You have an image to maintain, after all.

It’s even changed your gaming habits. Now when you game, you react so dramatically, bordering on ridiculous. You would never scream at a horror game before--sure, you might cringe, or admit that your heart is pounding like a hammer, but you weren’t cartoonish. But it’s what those losers watching want--they want you to open your mouth so big when something scary happens in a game so they can screencap it and imagine you’re opening your mouth to do something… else. They want you to scream girlishly at jump scares or dramatically fawn over cute guy characters. And of course, they want you to react when they donate--they want to hear those sweet little words: “Thank you sooo much, you’re my number one fan!”

It’s your new little catch phrase, something you’ve integrated into every stream now. It’s even in your intro--“Hello, all my number one fans!” It’s an in-joke now between your followers. All part of your brand.

Shigaraki knows you don’t mean to hurt him by calling other guys your number one fan. But it does. But it’s okay. He doesn’t hold it against you. He knows that you don’t really mean it, when you’re saying it to them; he’s smart, he can tell the difference in how you react to his donations versus the donations from the absolute shitheads who watch your streams.

You mean it when you call him your number one fan. It’s the only way he can get you to say his name, now that you’re too busy to really respond properly to the chat. And it’s fine, really, nothing to get too upset over. Because when you finally meet in person, he’ll explain that he’s the only number one fan that you’ll ever need.

He jumps into the stream, annoyed at having missed the beginning, but what he sees on the screen instantly melts away any emotion other than pure adoration and obsession. You’re very… pink today. A pink oversized sweater and pink cat headphones and even glossy pink lipstick that makes your mouth look like candy.

None of the freaks watching the stream know this, but Shigaraki is the reason why you feel comfortable wearing pink. He remembers one of your early streams, where you wondered out loud if it was cliche to be a girl gamer who likes pink; he’d told you that it was fine, and you’d thanked him. Who knows, without his sage advice, you might be wearing clothing you didn’t like. Wouldn’t that be a shame? He makes a mental note to remind you to thank him, somewhere down the line. Maybe when you were out on a date and wearing a short pink skirt and urging him to take a sip of your vanilla-cherry milkshake, letting him put his lips right on your straw.

A date… the thought makes him feel tight all over. Would you date him? I mean, you were practically dating already, truth be told. It just needed to be formalized. He’d spent so much money on you, and in the early days he knew exactly what his donations bought because you’d happily chatter on about getting a new game or perfume or stack of light novels because of his generosity. Of course, you didn’t talk as much as you used to--well, practically never, except when he donated--but that couldn’t be helped. You were stretched thin, being pulled in directions by these so-called-fans who watched your streams but didn’t give a fuck about the real you underneath. The real you that Shigaraki knows all too well.

Would you date him? No, more than that--did you love him? The way he loves you? The thought of the real you, the one who didn’t bite her lip oh-so-obviously in a bid to look adorable, the one who didn’t mind eating messy lunches while she gamed, the one who always always made sure to wish Shigaraki good night, makes him want to find out.

He rarely participates in the chat nowadays. There’s no point, when you rarely respond to anything other than answers to questions you ask, and even then you cherry pick from the countless replies that pop up in seconds. Donating is the best way to catch your eye, to hear those sweet words from your lips that you only mean when he donates.

But something makes him want to try, today. Maybe it’s all his nostalgia for your early days, the early connection you made that is still going strong. Maybe it’s the allure of the glossy pink lipstick smeared across your lips, making him think about how you might taste of cherries or strawberries or pure sugar.

Whatever it is, it’s pulling his fingers towards the chat, and before he knows it, he’s rapidly typed and hit enter. The second he does he begins to scratch furiously at his neck and he can feel the blood even as his message is quickly dominated by other messages in the chat, inane bullshit.

Tomura001: sry for the sudden question but I need to ask you something personal do you love me?

As a quick thought, he makes a donation, just to ease the nervousness that was flooding through him with every passing millisecond.

He hardly blinks as he stares intently at you, sitting in your chair with your pink lips and pink headphone and soft skin and--you glance over, where he knows you keep a larger screen to see the chat.

And suddenly, you’re speaking.

“Awww,” you say, your voice sweet and flattered, even. “Tomura! Of course I love you! You’re my number one fan!”

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You do love him. I mean, he knew this already; it’s the little things, like how you still have the light novels you bought with his money on your bookshelf and you thank him for his donations like you mean it and you feel confident enough to wear pink, all thanks to him. But he’s never heard it from your mouth before. From your lips. Soft and pink and inviting.

You love him.

He sets the phone down, a rare occurrence when he’s glued to your streams. But the emotions rushing through him are so strong that he’s worried it will slip out of his fingers and fall, crack on the floor.

He loves you. You love him. You belong to him. So why are you wasting your fucking time streaming to a bunch of worthless losers who don’t care about you? He can buy you the things you want, the things you like. He can clear out some space in his room so you can game together. And he knows girls like things clean, so he’ll even throw out the used soda cans and food wrappers before he brings you home. You’ll appreciate that, just like you appreciated his donations and late-night practically empty stream chats. You’ll be happy with him. And he can see you and hear you and touch you in a way that he’s been dreaming about (and you’ve been dreaming about, he knows) for ages.

All he has to do is find your address--easy enough--and you’ll be living it up with him before you know it.

He chews on his lip and picks up his phone. You’ve moved on--you had to, didn’t you, to keep those viewers donating--but he can tell by the way your lips are pursued that you’re thinking about him.

Your number one fan.

#yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shigaraki #yandere #yandere x reader #shigaraki x reader #afterwitch writes #I am def. doing part 2 of this eventually

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very-nice-very-evil · 3 years ago

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well, double or nothing was ridiculous from start to finish. absolutely worth the ppv price.

obvs very excited for the hookhausen victory. seeing them start a team for a while could be fun, so hopefully that is in the future. either way, i want to keep seeing my favorite funky little guy actually wrassle!!!

still not sure if mjf ghosting his meet and greet yesterday was a work, but am glad he came out to give wardlow a match. i figured wardlow was going to win, but damn. what a way to get officially signed in!

the hardys victory was definitely a nostalgia hit for me--they were some of my favorites as a kid, and i was glad to see them reunited and thriving.

jade's victory was expected, that win streak is just too powerful. very interested to see who will eventually break it and how that story will play out.

the house of black v death triangle match was just fun to watch. the gimmick victory was a little eh for me, but the julia hart bit was with it. i wonder how that will play out in the long term.

really did not like the adam cole or britt baker wins. i was really pulling for joe and ruby. even beyond the ppv, i just do not like those two. they come out and always have their little minions pull something so they can take a cheap victory, it just isn't fun to watch for me.

also hoping sammy and tay can move into better storylines than just being all over each other all the time. they both have a lot of talent, so it's weird to see it get squandered for whatever this has been.

kyle i was also pretty meh about. not a fan of red dragon. also i would like to see just one match where darby doesn't just get absolutely thrown around the hole time. he's just a little guy!!

thunder rosa both earned and deserved that win. so glad to see it! she is just phenomenal all around. probably my favorite from the women's division and in my top 5 for all of aew.

anarchy in the arena was just so much! like goddamn, what a hard act to follow! eddie kingston was just so wild out there, cannot believe they didn't let him get the win. man shuffling around like a corpse by the end but was still absolutely ready to light jericho on fire. as an aside, i am just so tired of jericho in general. did not like him in wcw, wwf, or wwe; do not like him now.

jurassic express was also an expected victory, and was also nice to see. they work so well together. i would have been okay with keith and swerve taking it, but we'll see how that shakes out in the future. either way, this one was fun to watch.

and finally... let's goooooo!!! cm punk deserves a belt and i am glad he got it. i like adam page and hope he can pick up a title again, but if there was any time to lose this one it was at don. now to see how long punk can hang onto it!

all in all: a very fun, very full ppv. i thought people were crazy for complaining that it was too stacked but also now i am so so sleepy omg.

#aew #aewdon #aew double or nothing #some thoughts!

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

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3rd life, Tango and Impulse are the last two standing?

this was the first 3rd Life request i received and oh boy have i wanted to work on it for so long. apologies for the older ones i havent touched yet; i’m getting to them! i’m just in more of a 3rd Life mood atm :)

...

Etho drowned

Impulse stares at the death message on his communicator with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh,” he whispers hoarsely. “He did it… Tango got him…”

He checks the tab list. Etho is gone. Only two red names stare back at him: his own and Tango’s. The endgame he’s been avoiding for weeks is finally here.

Impulse continues trading with his villagers, though there doesn’t seem to be much point anymore. Tango is undoubtedly on his way here right now, and he’ll probably want to end things right here and now. There’s only two people left, both on red. One more death will end the game, no matter who dies.

He finds himself hoping that Tango will fall into a ravine or get exploded by a creeper before he even makes it here. But he knows it won’t happen. There’s only two ways this could end, and neither of them are very appealing to him.

All too soon, he hears the familiar voice of his best friend call his name. Wincing briefly, he turns and finds Tango standing in the entrance to his villager trading hall. “Hi, Tango.”

��You saw in chat, right?” Tango’s red eyes are glowing bright, as is the red heart on his neck. “I got him. My trap worked!”

Impulse nods. “I saw. Heck of a way to kill your close friend.”

“Yeah, well, he would’ve killed me with no hesitation, so I did what I had to do to survive.”

“You’ve done a lot of things like that,” Impulse remarks carefully. “Remind me again who you’ve killed?”

“Grian, Bdubs, Scott, Jimmy, Ren, and now Etho,” says Tango gleefully. “Etho’s my first red lifer, though. Gotta say, there’s a hell of a rush in taking someone’s last life and knowing they won’t be able to come back and confront you.”

Impulse slowly shakes his head. “That’s a really… cold thing to say. Remember, we don’t know exactly what happens when we lose our last life. It’s likely we just appear back on our normal servers, but Grian said he didn’t even know that for certain.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tango rolls his eyes. “Whatcha up to?”

“Getting some books to enchant my stuff so you’ll have a harder time killing me,” Impulse wants to say. Instead, he opts for the safe answer and says, “Just some trading. You… want some emeralds?”

“Nah, I don’t need to trade right now.”

The two fall silent for a moment.

“So I guess we should address the elephant in the room,” says Impulse slowly. “We’re the only ones left. The last two standing.”

“Uh huh.” Tango’s eyes are still worryingly sparkling red. “We are. And don’t think I’m stupid, Impy. I know about the traps you put around your base. Plus the ones in Renchanting and the desert.”

“I didn’t put those there.”

“Whatever. Point is: I know where all the traps are. So don’t think you’re gonna get the drop on me. And when it comes to PvP, I’m stronger.”

“Are you trying to tell me to just lay down and accept my death?” Impulse demands.

“Hell no. Don’t do that! That’d be the worst way to end this whole thing.” Tango pauses a moment. “Who’ve you killed, again?”

“I… I killed Joel and Cleo.”

“And?” prompts Tango pointedly.

Impulse winces. “And… you. I took your second life.”

“Yes, yes you did. And I’m not gonna let you take another.”

“I don’t want to do that, Tango. I may be a red lifer but I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Too bad,” Tango says coldly. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting months and months for. Two people left. I’ve done too much and fought too hard to delay my victory any longer. Come to the village with your best armour and your best sword, and if you’re not there in five minutes, I’ll hunt you down and kill you without mercy. Got it?”

Impulse can hardly hold back a shiver at the viciousness in his best friend’s voice. “G-Got it.”

“Good.”

Impulse watches Tango leave, before letting out a deep breath. He can’t deny he’s terrified; this is the final confrontation. Either he or Tango won’t make it out alive. And he has a suspicion as to which one will lose their last life first. As blunt as Tango had been, he’s right. Tango knows where all the traps are, he’s better at PvP than Impulse, and he has the fortune to have known Impulse long enough to be able to reliably anticipate any tricks he could come up with.

Impulse hardly stands a chance.

After assembling his best armour under the circumstances, Impulse takes his enchanted diamond sword and heads out into the village. He can already see Tango sitting atop one of the houses, legs dangling over the side. Tango’s armour is iron but enchanted, whereas Impulse’s is diamond and unenchanted. He doesn’t know which will be better in this scenario but he’s leaning towards the enchanted armour.

Tango spots him approaching and jumps down from the house, swinging his own enchanted diamond sword. “Sorry it has to be this way, Impulse. I hope you know that however this finishes, you’ll always be my best friend.”

Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be very happy with me if I’m the one who somehow wins after all this, Impulse thinks.

Aloud, he says, “I’m sorry too.”

A brief pause follows his words.

Then Tango charges forward and the fight begins.

Impulse blocks Tango’s first two blows, but the third glances off his armour. This completely throws him off and Tango lands a few more hits on his armour.

Losing his nerve, Impulse scrambles backwards and takes off running, hoping to give himself time to think of something.

“Hey!” Tango yells. “What are you doing?! Get back here!”

Impulse sprints as fast as he can towards Bdubs and Cleo’s abandoned castle. Without slowing, he jumps on the ruined planks of the drawbridge and makes it across to the other side. When he dares to look back, he notices Tango skidding to a halt on the other side of the moat.

Impulse involuntarily nods to himself. Tango hates parkour, even simple ones.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Impulse turns and spots Tango halfway across the bridge, jumping steadily from one plank to another. Panicking, Impulse jumps on the pressure plate in the centre of the room, before bolting for the stairs.

Tango has just reached the entrance when he hears the telltale hissing noise and he curses. He doesn’t have enough time to follow Impulse to the stairs and he knows it, so all he can do is dive back across the drawbridge.

The TNT goes off a second later, sending Tango flying onto the bank. It’s been placed in such a strategic way that it only destroys the lower floor; the second floor, which Impulse has managed to reach, is entirely untouched.

He grabs a spare bow and some arrows, and fires a few out the slit window at Tango, who is struck in the leg by one and has to retreat to avoid getting hit by the others.

Impulse takes a deep breath. This is a good position; he has the high ground, as it were. He has the advantage right now.

Unfortunately, that advantage becomes a lot less palpable when he realises his meagre arrow stock has run out.

Through the split window, he spots Tango running back across over the drawbridge, clearly realising that Impulse is out of ammunition. His leg is bleeding from where he’s pulled the arrow out but he doesn’t seem to care right now.

Impulse rushes for the second set of stairs and bursts out onto the top of the castle. Over the ramparts, he can see the long abandoned village he used to call home and he’s briefly gripped with a deep sense of sadness and nostalgia.

A few seconds later, he hears footsteps behind him and whirls round to find Tango charging towards him. With only a split second warning, Impulse ducks under his outstretched arm and rushes for the stairs again, but Tango sweeps his legs out from under him. Impulse lets out a cry of pain as he lands heavily on his wrist.

“NO!” Tango yells, standing over him with his sword, forcing him to roll over and look him in the eye. “You’re not running away again! I’ve waited TOO long for this; now fight me!”

Impulse responds by kicking Tango hard in his already injured leg, before rolling to his feet and taking advantage of Tango’s distracted state to shove him away.

Tango stumbles back, his mind fuzzy from the pain. His diamond sword dangles in his grasp. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath.

“Tango…” Impulse straightens up, a sympathetic look on his face. “Please. We don’t have to resolve it this way. Let’s just live together in this world until one of us dies naturally. There’s no reason for us to murder each other just to win this stupid game.”

“No,” growls Tango softly. “You’ve no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here. If somehow we do go back to Hermitcraft after we die in this goddamn world, do you think anyone’s still gonna wanna be friends with me?”

“Then why burn all your bridges like that?” Impulse demands. “3rd Life is temporary but we’ll be on Hermitcraft for decades to come. Why throw it all away?”

“Y-You don’t understand. I have to win this. Th-There’s no other way to end this.”

Impulse carefully steps towards his best friend. “Tango. Plea-.”

“I SAID NO!”

Tango charges at Impulse, who intercepts him and throws him away from him.

What he hasn’t noticed is how close he is to the edge of the parapet.

Tango manages to catch Impulse’s wrist, pulling him to the ground, but the shock of the landing releases Tango’s grip on him.

Impulse gasps as he realises that his friend has disappeared over the side of the parapet. He hardly dares look, but his communicator going off only confirms what he already knows to be true.

Tango fell from a high place.

Tango is gone.

Impulse has won.

He struggles to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his arm. It’s over. It’s really over.

After all this time, all these deaths, he’s the last one standing. The “winner”, if you could even call him that. He’s done so much to survive: things he’s ashamed of, things that will stay with him for the rest of his life. The things he’s witnessed will also haunt him; the deaths of everyone around him, including his best friends, as he’s unable to do anything about it.

After what feels like hours, he discards his armour and steps up onto the parapet, the breeze ruffling his t-shirt and shorts. At the bottom, he can almost picture Tango’s body, broken on the hard ground below him. He doesn’t know if his death will take him back to Hermitcraft, back to Tango, but anything is better than staying here alone in this world, void of happiness and life.

“I’m coming home, Tango,” he murmurs.

With that, he lets himself fall.

#3rdlifesmp #3rd life smp #impulsesv #tangotek #vaunna’s requests

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local-spoon-does-a-thing · 4 years ago

Text

Found (Part 2/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader]

A/N: Woooo it’s finished! This part is going to mostly be about Optimus and Reader interacting. Hope you enjoy!

You can find the first part here!

Summary: You and Optimus Prime have a conversation under the starry night sky.

Soon enough, it was time to sleep and recharge. As the Autobots went into their alternate forms to recharge, your footsteps automatically led you to Bumblebee’s vehicle form as you had slept inside there for the past few years. Just as you opened the car door and sat down on the front seat, you were suddenly ejected out and had landed against the hard, rocky ground. You let out a small growl and turned around, only to witness Bee letting Cade, Tessa, and Shane entering inside. Oh, so they were allowed to sleep there but not you? Your eye twitched with annoyance but before you could call him out, Bee’s radio suddenly turned on.

“Turn around, bright eyes~” You knew the song all too well as it was the classic song, Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler.

You listened to the lyric that was played and whipped your head behind you. Optimus was in his truck form, his door open for you. Ohhh, right. You’ve forgotten that he was going to speak with you later. Seems like “later” was right now. Letting out a tired sigh, you were hesitating to walk to him. The nervousness drowned you once more like it had earlier. You still couldn’t figure out why you were nervous. Were you worried that you had lost your place in his spark? No, that was ridiculous. Why would he? It seemed like you were waiting for too long since Bumblebee turned on the radio once more and another old classic song played.

“Listen to your heart

When he’s calling for you.

Listen to your heart

There’s nothing else you can do.

I don’t know where you’re going

And I don’t know why,

But listen to your heart

Before you tell him goodbye.”

You looked back and glared at the sneaky little car, narrowing your eyes at him before walking to Optimus. As you got inside, a strong sense of nostalgia hit you like a truck. You remembered all the times that you would sleep, talk, and drive in here. Like the gentlebot he was, Optimus gently shut the door for you while you made yourself comfortable for one last time. Neither of you said a word. What were you supposed to say to someone you haven’t seen for a long while? A generic “hey” or “hello” was too lame and awkward. Damn it all, why did this have to be more complicated than it needed to be?

“[Y/N],” The old Bot spoke, “There are many things I wish to talk to you about, but it would take time, and unfortunately for us; time is the one thing we no longer have.” You remained silent, not knowing how to respond to that. Optimus was expecting something to be said from you but after a moment, he continued. “You are silent. That is unlike you. Is there nothing you would like to tell me?”

That was far from the truth. Like he wished to, you as well wanted to talk about many, many things. But you had a feeling that if you were to even try to get a word out, everything would just spill and flow out like a waterfall. Overwhelming emotions would just be thrown back and forth, incoherent words would spit out. You wouldn’t know how to deal with it and you doubted that Optimus would know.

“That...that’s not true. That’s not true and you know that.” You felt your throat start to clog up and tighten. Your eyes stung as tears threatened to fall. Damn it, now wasn’t the time to break down. It wasn’t your fault for feeling this way, you knew that. But if this was going to be your last time together with him, you didn’t spend the whole time crying your eyes out. The night could only go for so long and you hated it.

“I...I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say first. I’ve always dreamed and imagined what I would do if I ever get to see you again. I thought that I would be excited and we would just talk about what’s been happening and what changed. But now, I’m...nervous? Scared?” You sighed. This wasn’t going like how you wanted it to plan. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. But I do know that I don’t want to lose you again. The last 5 years were torture to me. We...we lost Sam to the damn corrupt organization. I was forced to leave my home since Bee and the others weren’t the only ones being hunted down. I missed you, Ratchet, ‘Hide, Sam- and I don’t even know if my parents are still alive! I don’t- I don’t understand! I can’t understand anything!”

By now, the tears were pouring out. Each word took your breath away and you began rambling about how everything had broken you. Your sharp inhales turned into shaky sobs. You buried your face into the palms of your hands as you just couldn’t stop crying. Your whole world was spinning and turning upside down and you couldn’t take it-

“[Y/N], stop. Breathe. You need to breathe.” His voice was finally heard. Optimus had tried calling out to your name multiple times, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t hear him. Once your rambling had discontinued, he took a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts before speaking again.

“I understand that you have gone through a lot, I truly do, and you are not the only one who has felt this way. There has not been a single day gone by where I do not worry about you. If I had only known that this would happen...I wouldn’t have run away. I would’ve done everything in my power to protect you.” He told you. His soothing voice managed to help you calm your breathing and you continued to listen to what he had to say. “When this is over, I can't promise that your life will be able to go back to normal. But I can promise that I do not plan on leaving you any time soon. And if for some reason that does happen, I will find my way back to you. No matter how long it takes.”

And you knew that whenever Optimus makes a promise, he never breaks it. Every word that he said held meaning in them. You lifted your head and looked at the radio. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, which you still had yet to stop, your face was slightly pink, and your hands were soaked from the tears. You haven’t even noticed that you’ve been repressing your emotions until the flood gates had opened. Goddamn, it felt good to get everything off of your chest. With your breathing being much more stable, you laid your forehead against the steering wheel and closed your eyes as more tears were shed.

“I missed you, Boss Bot.”

“And so have I, Tiny Girl.”

The two of you remained there in comfortable silence, along with your occasional sniffs from your stuffy nose. A couple of minutes have passed by and neither of you said anything. Instead, Optimus adjusted his side-view mirrors slightly upwards towards the sky. It was a clear night sky, no clouds to be seen. The stars have been revealed and they were as clear as daylight. Whenever you had your sleepless nights in the past, you would usually come to him and he would tell you about his home planet, Cybertron. He told you about his glorious moments during the war but made sure not to get too into detail. Perhaps, stargazing one more time shouldn’t hurt.

“I recommend looking out the window, [Y/N]. The stars are clearer than ever.” Optimus said as he rolled down the window.

You opened your eyes and as you looked and poked your head out of the open window. When you turned your head upwards, your eyes widened in astonishment. It had been too long since you looked at the stars since you were too busy trying not to get yourself killed. A graceful smile slowly formed onto your lips and your whole face lit up. At that moment, Optimus saw the bratty little teenager he knew and loved.

“Hey, Optimus? Um, is it ok if you change out of your alternate form? Just for a bit. I want to see you…” Your voice quieted down when your sentence started to drift away.

Optimus didn’t want to accidentally awake the others from their recharge, but the puppy dog eyes he received from you told him to do it. Without another word, he transformed back to his original form as you steadily held onto him, trying not to fall. He kept you sitting on the palm of his hand and looked behind him. Good, no one was awake. Or so he thought. Hound had been awake for most of the time, briefly listening to the conversation between you and the Autobot leader. From what Bumblebee had told him, he knew that you two were close. But actually witnessing the bond you two had from his own eyes; it gave him a warm feeling in his spark. Sure, he displays himself as a bickering wrecker, but he deeply cares for his comrades. And seeing you finally enjoying yourself and being happy made him happy. With peace in mind, he slowly fell into recharge, awaiting for the next day.

Optimus slowly walked away from the camp so he was able to get a bit more privacy with you. He perched you on top of his shoulder and you balanced yourself. As he walked further away, you looked up as the bright moonlight shines upon the two of you. It felt like you were back in your teen years and damn it felt good. Once you two were far enough, he slowly sat down on the dirt floor with a bit of a grunt. He was getting old but not old enough. The weight of everything that had happened, spanning from the war to being hunted down by humans, was starting to take a toll on his body. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve told him that he was starting to act like a tired dad.

You sat down on his shoulder when suddenly, you felt something uncomfortably poking your back. Wincing a bit, you grabbed whatever was making you feel uncomfortable and to your surprise, it was your emergency gun. Throughout the whole day, you’ve forgotten that you kept one. Optimus turned his head towards you and once his optics landed on the gun, he almost flinched away. Let’s just say, despite his massive size, he didn’t like any weapons too close to his head. Also, the image of you holding a gun was something that was too strange for him and he did not like it whatsoever. To him, it was equivalent to giving a 5-year-old a rifle.

“[Y/N]...why do you have a gun?”

You turned to him as your eyes met with his glowing blue ones and a mischievous smile slowly crept onto your face.

“Oh, this old thing? Well, I did manage to steal it from one of the Cemetery Wind soldiers during one of our encounters. I’m pretty much a pro at using guns now.” You boldly said as you twirled it around your finger.

There goes your inner arrogant self. Unfortunately for you, your little twirling trick almost led to you dropping your gun. You caught in time just as it flew out of your hand. Optimus deadpanned at you and had the urge to roll his optics. Yeap, even when you were in your twenties, you were still somewhat a brat.

“Well then, little pro, I’ll have you know that the safety is off.”

He smirked when he saw the semi-panicked look on your face and went to immediately check it, only to find out that the safety was, in fact, not off and he just wanted to mess around with you. To his amusement, you groaned and whined, almost like you were having a tantrum. A quiet burst of laughter erupted from him and his body slightly shook.

“I know that it is not my business to pry in, but aren’t you too young to be using a weapon as dangerous as that one?” He asked once he had calmed.

“Eh, I’ve grown. I mean, I’m already in my twenties and honestly, I did not expect to spend my early adult life as a fugitive with giant alien mech robots. I guess you can say that I’m no longer little.”

“Perhaps. But you will always be my little one.”

The both of you smiled at each other as you both wished for the night to never end. Then, a recollection of what he said earlier popped into your mind and your sincere smile faded.

But when I found out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.

“Optimus? Do you really plan on killing the person behind all this chaos? The person who organized Cemetery Wind and KSI...are you really going to kill them? Does that mean you hate humans now?”

Oh no, has he frightened you? Once his face fell, he averted his gaze from you and stared at the dark horizon. Suddenly, he became serious. He had never wanted this; he doubted anyone did. But the humans had forced him into this twisted game and it was either he finally made his move or watched all the people he most cared about die.

“Both Autobots and Decepticons are Cybertronians. Both came from the planet, Cybertron. I fight the Decepticons for a reason, but that does not mean that I hate all Cybertronians. The same goes for your species. I do not hate all humans, but I do hate the humans who forced us to play their little game. If we do not do something about it, you will not be able to return to your parents and we will not be able to gain the peace that we deserve. There can be no winners or losers without a fight. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but this is just the way how things work. If there were any other options, I would’ve taken them.”

You stared at him in awe. He was right. This was a fight for survival, a fight they never wanted to be in. What kind of leader doesn’t lead their team to victory or even try to? The look on your face softened and you slowly stood up. Optimus looked back at you to watch what you were doing, but he was only met with surprise when you pressed your forehead against his. He closed his optics and did his best to reciprocate the kind gesture.

“Well, I’ll have you know that no matter what happens, you’ll always be my favorite Bot. Uh- don’t tell Bee I said that, by the way. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Duly noted.”

The two of you spent a bit more time together under the stars before he went back to the campsite to recharge, much to your dismay. You protested multiple times even though he kept reminding you that the team had a big mission day tomorrow and that they were leaving early in the morning. He did not want to see you with low energy tomorrow just because you were being stubborn with sleeping. As he gracefully transformed into his vehicle form, you had a not so graceful landing with the seat cushions. Your betraying body forced a yawn to escape and you (badly) covered it up with a fake cough. Of course, that didn’t stop Optimus from saying “told you so.”

“But Optimuuuuussss! I don’t wanna go to sleep!” You whined. “What if I wake up and see that you’re not here? What if you get taken by Cemetery Wind? Or-”

“[Y/N], I assure you that I will very much still be here when you wake up tomorrow. And if by some chance Cemetery Wind does manage to find us, I will wake you up. We have a long day tomorrow. Please get some rest.”

You didn’t say anything else and continued to sit there, staring down at your lap. The night had gone by too soon for your liking. Despite Optimus’s reassurance, that didn’t dull down the worries that filled your head. Just when you were about to complain once more, the radio turned on and played a tune you knew all too well.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine.

You make me happy

When skies are grey.

You’ll never know dear,

How much I love you.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

It was a tune your mother would always sing to you when you were still a little kid. You didn’t know how he knew that was one of your favorite songs, but you weren’t complaining at all. In comforting defeat, you lied down on the cushions and stared at the ceiling above you.

“Goodnight, my little sunshine.”

“Night, Papa Bot.”

Checkmate. The truck then slightly rumbled and shook out of shock and surprise. You guessed that you managed to catch him off-guard, something that you’ve well mastered. He sputtered through the radio, trying to get words out. Now, this was better than any reaction you’ve seen from him. You laughed and laughed and laughed to the point where you were holding your stomach. Once your laughter died down, you patted the seat and waited to be whisked away.

“ ‘Papa Bot’? Really?”

“I love you~”

A tired sigh came from him. You were such a confusing child.

“I love you too.”

#optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #transformers bayverse #bayverse #transformers #optimus prime #bumblebee #ironhide #ratchet #drift #crosshairs #hound #cade yeager #tessa yeager #shane dyson #i love mr papa bot

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