#also props to my old ass computer for putting up with all the things i throw at it

[somedaytakethetime]

Hum.... so.. Thirst O'clock... I-... 😶😶

Learned how to do something edition 😶😶

[piinkipie]

Bad days.—(Miguel O’hara x Blk!Fem!Reader Fluff🧸)

“Fucking hell.” You said as you entered work. You really didn’t wanna go since you weren’t too fond of the idea of being Miguel O’Hara’s “right hand man.” You didn’t even get that much sleep last night, but you’re 2 year into this. You should’ve thought about that instead of fiending over a hot, muscular vampire dude. You get to your destination and sit down in the chair next to the one and only, Miguel O’Hara.

“You’re late.” He said with a stern voice. You rolled your eyes, you were wayyy too tired to deal with his sassy ass attitude.

“What an immaculate observation.” You hissed, sarcastically. He thinks because he’s older than you he can act all tough and boss you around. Like you’d let that happen. You started typing on the computer in front of you as Miguel sighed in frustration.

“Your life you be way easier if you didn’t always talk back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. You furrowed your eyebrows, putting on a stank face when he said that. Who the hell did he think he was talking to?

“Don’t even start that. You talk back more than everybody in the spider-verse combined, yo sassy ass.” You crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. You watched as he turned his head towards you, that familiar nonchalant face meeting your irritated one. He hated your attitude, you hated his, it was a neutral feeling.

“How many times do I have to remind you to set your alarm, Y/n?” He sighed, his voice sounding a bit passive-aggressive. You can confirm you forgot to set your alarm, but you were pretty busy yesterday.

“I was busy, Miguel.” You snapped back. “I just had things to do before I went to sleep, you know my family always needs me to do somethin’” He raised an eyebrow, his face taking a curious expression.

“Like?” He questioned as he turned his attention to you. You knew he was gonna say that. You yawned, stretching your arms out.

“Girl, let me tell you.” He scoffed with a small smirk at your choice of words. “My uncle’s car broke down, so I had to go get him. And, guess what?!” You ranted. This was very amusing to Miguel, making his smile grow and for his to turn all his attention to you, and only you.

“What?” He said smugly. He rested his chin on his hand, which was propped up by his elbow. You were definitely enjoying the attention from the fine man in front of you, but you were still fixated on the story.

“That crackhead was all the way in CANADA. I had to drive an entire hour just to get to that old man!” You complained, rolling your eyes for what felt like the 6th time this morning. “I love that man with all my life, but I really wish someone else did that.” You huffed, fiddling with your frizzy braids. You really gotta take those bitches out. Miguel, on the other hand, was definitely enjoying himself. He looked you up & down as he listened to your story.

“Wow, such an eventful day.” He said with a snarky tone. You acted offended, putting a hand on your chest.

“That’s not the only thing that happened!” You huffed, still in a jokingly manner. He leaned in closer, crossing his arms and leaning forward so they were on his knees.

“Then tell me, Amor.” Those words sent a shiver up your spine, making your face feel warm and heart race. Your knees were almost touching his making him mighty close to you. Damn, that’s hot.

“Well.. I also had to babysit my 3 cousins, which was a nightmare.” You giggled a bit at the thought of you having to run after a 5 year old while carrying a 1 year old. You think Miguel felt your energy since his smile widened a bit. “I have a BUNCH of stories from yesterday. Just some family things.” You sighed. He put his hand on yours and looked up at you, locking eyes. All you’re seeing right now is space and opportunity. His face was closer than it should be. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his face was still as mesmerizing as always. You swear you could almost feel his breath brush against your lips.

“You should really talk to me more, Y/n. It might not seem like it, but I enjoy your company. Though, your attitude is more than annoying, you’re a great partner in crime.” That was unexpected, but it made your heart bounce off walls like a toddler after trick-or-treating. You thought you were just like a sidekick type of thing to him, but hearing him call you his partner-in-crime, awakened an entirely different understanding. You were good at hiding facial expression, but your actions, not so much. You squeezed your thighs together and fiddled with one of the braids that always got in your face. You felt so captivated that it was nerve-racking.

“I- I really appreciate that.. Thank you, Miguel.” You smiled. You felt so delusional at that moment. You wanted to lean in, just close enough for him the hearts in your eyes. You were just about to start beating yourself up for it until you felt his cold hand on your cheek. He had that small smile that always crossed your mind 24/7. Maybe working with Miguel won’t be so bad.

[drops-of-moonlights]

I got an ask about favorite winx transformations and if my thoughts have changed at all in the last couple years that was lost to the void when my computer crashed like 3 hours ago and while I made one post about that aeons ago I don't want to go edit it again so I'm just remaking it wholesale lol. I think at this point y'all are familiar with my TakesTM so I don't need an intro, all the shit is below the cut. also this is for. all of them. like the comic ones included. also gonna provide images for them because it is all of them and most people don't know about the 9 comic ones.

*takes a look at the amount of transformations* oh god we're at 24 of these fuckers? lord. anyways we're going worst to best and honestly most of the worst ones will be the comic ones lol. Also I'm grouping MW and Charmix as Charmix Specials-style because they are just an accessory on top and the rest is the same so they will be judged together so that brings it down to 23.

23 - Paintix

This is by far the most creatively bankrupt of the transformations. Literally the exact same ugly top skirt boots combo 8 times. I have never found scans of the issue its featured in but they could have done so much more with a transformation themed around color? like c'mon here.

22 - Greenix

This one is better than Paintix for at least giving the girls different colors for more than just one (1) part but it's still the same exact dress 6 times with only minimal variation on the vines along the top, and it's sad, because this is supposed to be THE vegetation transformation as it represents the ENTIRE POWER OF LYNPHEA at your fingertips.

21 - Trendix

[IMAGE NOT FOUND]

THIS ONE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ACTUAL GRAPHICS BECAUSE IT'S FROM A BOOK but the idea is that it's just Fashion Cheatcode the transformation and only Bloom, Stella and Flora get it so it's low, but above Paintix and Greenix for cheating in a way I find funny.

20 - Magic of Sports

Okay this one isn't even a real transformation as they just get wings with their regular fútbol fits (it's from the 2014 world cup issue) but at least the girls are wearing different outfits and the wings are also different colors so it has that going over Paintix and Greenix.

19 - Magic Rock

this one's a crime. but a crime with more thought put into it than the rest, so it's higher than them. Props to them, they all have different silhouettes and there are forms higher than them that can't break that treshold, but that still is not enough. What are they wearing. what is that. Musa why are you a makeup brush. Also they use this form to beat ghosts and win a music contest. what.

18 - Tynix

I've never been shy about my dislike for Tynix, and I feel this shows it well enough lol. bullshit obtainment aside I just think it's ugly - the construction paper gems, the shitty undersuit, the clunky broken glass heels, the random ruffles, it's all bad. The wings and the hair are cool and. that's about it really.

17 - Enchantix

I've also never been shy about my utter hatred for Enchantix, so I won't really rethread old ground here, but basically I think it's bullshit overall and it's only above Tynix despite hating Enchantix more because I can begrudgingly agree some of them are pretty. Still hate they're all flowers tho that's just bad. if you removed or adjusted the extra pink and restored everyone's skintones so they're not whitewashed S8 Enchantix would kick the ass of OG Enchantix to the curve visually (except Flora's she took a downgrade)

16 - Mermaid form

Yeah I also hate this one. I just don't think it makes sense to have fairy mermaids when mermaids are already a species in Winx and when the show cannot make up its mind if being fairy is a CHOICE or if being fairy is a BIOLOGICAL CONDITION, we don't need this shit muddling things up further. Points for giving Tecna proper wings tho good for them.

16.5 - S8 Sirenix and Crystal Sirenix

I'm also throwing the two S8 Sirenix ones in this tier because I don't like them either lol. S8 Sirenix fairs better than Crystal but not by that much.

15 - Travelix

We start the area where I just think they look... fine. I like the idea of the visuals and this is a transformation that SHOULD'VE been in the show proper (really they would've made more dolls that way) but it's also not anything groundbreaking. For those curious this is the transformation granted by the Stone of Memories that allows someone to travel in time. hence me saying it should've been in the show proper lol.

14 and 13 - Sophix and Lovix (position changes)

Some of them are good! Some of them suck ass. And therefore they end here because they aren't more than just Believix, Summer and Winter editions.

12 - Butterflix

I love the Butterflix wings and hairstyles and I think it had a solid IDEA but they put TECNA in a tutu and some crimes cannot be forgiven. points for having Stella's bodice be sunbeams tho.

11 - Dreamix

I don't really care all that much for Dreamix, but it edges out Butterflix, and that's the reason for this placement. I still don't get what the netting is supposed to be but I do love the wings.

10 - Onyrix

Onyrix also only slightly edges out Dreamix - the colors are worse and the wings are bad but I find it more visually interesting than Dreamix and it gave us Blue Stella back, so it has rights on that alone.

9 - Harmonix

We're getting into the ones I'm more positive for! but half of Harmonix is gorgeous half of Harmonix is bad. LOVE the idea of the trails and it has THE best spells out of any transformation but I genuinely don't think it's a transformation SUPER fit for being underwater and given that's its purpose it kinda. falters lol. Also I don't get how the trails are meant to be like mermaid tails? Everyone says that and I just don't see it. I see them as waterfalls more than anything else really.

8 - Magic of Food

Yes. I'm ranking the food form this high. Why? Simple - it's actually. really well done? Flora and Bloom's hair is trash but they went for a weird concept and made a transformation that actually looks pretty appropiate all in all, and I know this is because it's a sponsored transformation but hey, that cash went to a good-ass look lol.

7 - Magic of Joy

LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT IT. ENCHANTIX WISHES IT HAD THIS EFFORTLESS ELEGANT SIMPLICITY. The wings being the same is lame but they all just look so pretty AND THEY TOOK THE TIME TO MAKE SURE TECNA HAD PANTS and I have to commend that. Bless you quokkas you funky animal you, thank you for giving this to us.

6 -Cosmix

OH COSMIX I WISH I COULD LOVE YOU MORE I genuinely find it pretty for the most part and it's the best Tecna and Musa have looked in years but I just cannot forgive Stella's vagina collar. I cannot.

5 - Charmix

What even IS there to say about the OG? the very first? It's iconic all on its own but I know my love of it is mainly guided by the happy memories of watching S1 and S2 as a child. That and some of the bags are not that great.

4 - Mythix

MYTHIX HAS RIGHTS AND I STAND BY THAT. IT'S WHAT ENCHANTIX SHOULD'VE BEEN. I am a person of simple tastes, I see magic wand I go apeshit. Also peak wings no wings rival the Mythix wings if you disagree you are wrong hate the dresses if you want but you cannot argue with me about the wings. I do agree some of the shoes are ugly tho.

3 - Sirenix

Yeah I love Sirenix. I understand the complaints about it being samey but I just love it - the ribbons, the hair streaks, the fins in the legs, the fish scale pattern leggings, I just think it slaps and it being wetsuit-based is so fitting for it. Shame about the same wings tho. Also we all know Sirenix has THE best transformation song ever made and that's a FACT.

2 - Bloomix

Bloomix is, objectively, the BEST the Winx have ever looked like. you cannot beat armor, you cannot. Stella's hair is a disgrace but it was the tradeoff for Flora being freed from her shitty hair blades for ONCE in her life and it's overall really good looking.

1 - Believix

Believix is peak and always will be. The perfect blend of fairy whimsy and modern aesthetics (for the time). The wings. the song. the transformation sequence. Really the only bad is Musa's shitty aerobics instructor pants and even then that fits her so I can't be TOO mad. Believix is love Believix is life.

[probablyevilrpgideas]

I started thinking about Boris' story from the isekai I was posting chapters of here and what that story might be. Starting with who the necromancer who created him was.

I pretty much immediately decided it was a necromancer character i created awhile ago, and got a short chance to play, Kerila/Nisharven. They have a very distinctive appearance I created by melding together visual cues from xenomorphs, Yzma, The Sassomancer (props to @kadabura for such a cool character), and then added some of my own "way overthinking things" to, like how they actually style their hair like that. While Nisharven didn't have a particular race when i created them, Kerila was a githyanki.

I had recently watched a video talking about the Gith (tho i strongly disagree with Pointy Hat's taste, but then I'm an avowed xenophile, so), and decided i definitely wanted to use some of the Gith/mind flayer lore in Boris' backstory.

There's a small problem with that, but a fairly easily surmountable one- WotC claims the Gith and mind flayers as "Product Identity." Which is bullshit, because neither of them originate from D&D. The Gith were created by Charles Stross for a White Dwarf article, and the name was pulled from an old GRR Martin story. Mind Flayers are just starspawn of Cthulhu with the serial numbers and wings filed off. The Gith/Illithid war takes from a book by Larry Niven. So, I personally consider them fair game, since they represent a history of artistic theft. I just need to call them something different and make a few differences.

And given that I actually think about how fantasy species and cultures function, that's easy to do.

Which is a long ass prologue for what I actually am making this post to talk about:

How To Create Truly Alien Cultures

Mind Flayers are described as utterly alien in mind and body. They see themselves as the apex of life, superior to all other life, and as destined to rule the multiverse, creating order under their rubbery grasp.

They see "lesser" lifeforms as only fit to be food, brainwashed thralls, or, essentially, breeding stock. They believe that they are giving these creatures "a gift" when they eat their brains.

These two things don't fucking compute.

This "we are superior to you, and true order can only be found if you submit to our rule" bullshit is all too fucking human. If this is your take on illithids, they're not alien, they're Nazis with squids for heads and slightly more complex justifications.

But, I read up on the canon, because there's this inherent tension between "we eat brains" and "we reproduce by putting our larva in brains." I wanted to see what the existing lore was to see if I needed to square that circle. I don't. A mind flayer only *needs* one brain a month because they actually primarily subsist on the psionic energy of the brain. A mind flayer who can might eat one or two brains a week, but in general they eat a brain every couple weeks, along with other things, such as organs other than brains, which are like healthy snacks to them since they contain the non-psionic stuff their bodies need.

But the lore also contains the seeds to actually start making them genuinely alien.

Let's start with the thing I remembered and didn't need the lore to refresh my memory on- for an Illithid, the Good Ending of life is for their brain to be put in their home elder brain's pool to become one with it. Every Illithid, no matter their personal goals, unless they've gone rogue or something, is aiming for an afterlife where they become one with the ruler of their personal community. That is Illithid Heaven.

Now, the things I needed the lore to remind me of-

When an Illithid consumes a brain, they receive the memories, personality, etc of the person whose brain they eat. The mind of the victim is absorbed into the Illithid's own mind.

There is one major point of lore I discard, the idea that illithids have no gender and instead individually lay one or two clutches of eggs in their lifespans. Like, I'm here for genderfuckery, but if we're going to make aliens, let's fucking make aliens. Have the tadpoles spawn directly from the elder brain through budding.

This is how you make the "brain consumption is a gift" thing work from the mind flayers' perspective!

The Cycle of One and Self

Ok, so, first you have to step into the webbed, two-toed feet of a mind flayer. You value your individuality, but also long to return to the elder brain which spawned them. For you, your individual life is but a short time in which you serve as a node of the community, to accomplish its goals away from the pool.

Further, you absorb non-illithids into your number when you eat. You don't see the act of consumption as an end of that person, you see it as helping them ascend to be part of a greater whole, which you likewise wish to ascend to. Your brain and mind is a way station for those who were not spawned from the Great One and are not destined to become extensions of it through ceremorphosis.

Now, we can understand this way of thinking, from an academic sense, but it's substantially non-human, in a way that "you are lesser beings and must be controlled by us superior beings" isn't. It gives the illithids a philosophy and a pathos that a person can almost sympathize with, but not, because to accept that perspective, one must sort themselves into "food."

This isn't a whole genuine alien mindset, but it's a good start. A much better start than, say, "look they just do things that seem random, but that's because we don't understand them." There's a logic, however abhorrent or frightening. It actually makes internal sense and isn't just "this is a thing we don't like to think of historical human actions, so it seems alien to us."

[echthr0s]

there are three other computer games from my childhood that defined my childhood gaming experience but they seem to be even more obscure than I thought Zoombinis was

Power Pete was like the most impossible game for me, like my child brain did not comprehend more traditional action-game type mechanics and I could never get past more than like 2 levels. it fascinated me how bad I was at it, actually. that's why I kept trying to play it, I was legit marvelling at my failures like a scientist LOL but the plot was literally just... Power Pete is an action figure in a toy store and at night the toys come alive and fight each other??? something like that idk I should look it up but all I remember is the compelling opening cinematic where he busts out of his box lmfao

AlienTales was a game show but in space. the host and the contestants and everyone are all aliens and the puzzles they're trying to solve are all about Earth books. and everyone's name is a pun on phrases that have "of" in them so it could look like So-and-So of Such-and-Such Planet, yknow? the host's name was Sal of deCentury and my favourite contestant was a two-headed alien named Yer Yout of Yer Mind alkdfjklajfjlkagj <3 the gameplay and dialogue was also very good, like I played it so many times that I had all the puzzles fkn memorised but it didn't even matter bc it was always a delight

Felix the Cat's Cartoon Toolbox...... listen. you don't understand how much fun this was. it let you make whole ass cartoon episodes with Felix the Cat characters. we're talkin full animation here, like you build a cartoon set and then you put the characters in and you set up what you want them to do and what props are there and any sound effects and then you press play and the shit plays out in front of you like a Saturday morning cartoon. I swear to god this was one of the best things to exist, like the creativity and potential was literally off the charts apparently one of those old-game archive sites has this available for download, btw. I'm considering it

[trilobiter]

I'm going to elaborate, because it will bother me if I don't.

I have a very expansive understanding of what art is, and I don't want to give the impression that I think images or sounds generated by computer algorithms are by definition "not art." I do want to state explicitly that I think a great deal of the "A.I. art" that has been presented to me is bullshit, and that I am hostile to things I think are bullshit.

Why is it bullshit? Well, that's the tricky question, but I think the core of it comes down to, not what art is, but why art is interesting. That is to say that all the art that I have ever loved, or hated, or puzzled over was made by people with life experiences and points of view that informed the ways that they made what they made. Art is a conversation between maker and audience, and that is why I value it. It makes me feel like I can see something in the mind of a person who took the time to craft something of themselves in a way that others could experience in interesting ways.

It is possible to use "artificial intelligence" in ways that center the human experience, but the vast majority of what I've seen amounts to "look what I got the machine to do, I am very clever for getting the machine to do this." And that's when the technology is acknowledged for what it is, and not used with the explicit intention of deceiving people for bad reasons. Whether you want attention on a facebook page for bird photographs but you don't know how to use a camera, or you want to sway an election by hoodwinking people with fraudulent evidence to prop up falsehoods, the only thing the product of A.I. generation tells me about the human ostensibly behind it is that they don't care about real things that matter.

Every now and then youtube suggests to me videos featuring an A.I.-generated facsimile of some old band singing a song they never really recorded. I've only actually watched one of these: it was "Paul McCartney" singing "God Only Knows," and as far as I could tell it existed for no purpose except to satisfy some one's curiosity about "what it would sound like" if he'd sung that song instead of Carl Wilson back in 1966. "God Only Knows" is one of my favorite songs, and it's famously one of Paul McCartney's as well. But this video said nothing about his relationship to the music. The only thing it said to me was "I told my computer to make me a Paul McCartney, and look how almost human it sounds."

That video had nothing to do with anything that mattered to me: it was bullshit. It wasn't just that the "voice" was perceptibly artificial. It was also that it purported to be something it fundamentally wasn't. It was a tech demo dressed up as a performance. It was a category error, only it read less as an "error" and more as a deliberate misrepresentation by a cynic who didn't care about the difference.

Here's the thing: art has already grappled with the question of whether you could take a shit on a plate and call it a sculpture and put it in the MOMA. Art grappled with this and related questions (what about a photograph of the shit, or a mass-produced t-shirt with a print of the photograph of the shit?) for most of the 20th century. But if nothing else, those shits came out of real asses, and somebody had to wash their hands after plating them. Now that the question has become whether a computer program can shit on a plate, I honestly cannot be moved to care.

Marcel Duchamp rooted around in the garbage* to find his Fountain. It was stupid and ugly and that was the point. It was only interesting because a person decided to make it interesting. A.I. art can only be interesting if people do interesting things with it. Dinking around with it like a magic toy isn't that.

*or he just bought it from the manufacturer. Either way.

I don't know how I could possibly be expected to care about art that wasn't made by a person. I also don't know how I could possibly be expected to applaud, or feel anything but contempt for, a person for telling a machine to "improve" another person's work of art.

Call me when your program has a biography instead of just a patch history.

[insidetheravensmind]

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing ~ Yandere! Seungmin X Reader

Genre ~ yandere, angst, smut, sluff

!! trigger warnings !! yandere, mentions of suicide, murder, lots of manipulation, mental and emotional abuse, adult themes, smut, life ruining events, stockholm syndrome?, "owernship" of another person, guns, massacre (but it's not that descriptive) !!Smut warnings!! blowjob, creampie, unprotected sex (be safe irl please), breeding kink if you squint, eating one out, kind of dom x sub plot, overstimulation, two spanks on the ass and one slap on the pussy - I THINK THAT'S ALL

Word Count ~ 3,352

Author's Note: Ahhhhhhh!!! I'm absolutely so excited for this request because it's my first ever Stray Kids request! I got carried away... Check out my Stray Kids Masterlist

buy me a coffee here

Kim Seungmin - second to youngest of Stray Kids, cute puppy, all in all an innocent man.

But we all know that is not true. This man knows exactly what he’s doing all of the time, and he knows you’re falling for every single bit of his act. You are a very emotional person, you feel bad for everyone, you take the emotional burden from everyone, and you carry it yourself. So, when Seungmin came strolling in with his sob story, you fell right after it.

You met him at a coffee shop. It was early morning, you had just seated yourself at a higher up table looking out the window, laptop propped open with an untitled and untouched document. Time to write another college essay. Warm coffee on the right side of your computer, mouse connected via bluetooth, and earbuds popped into both your ears.

You began to write the essay, ideas flowing to your brain faster than you can type, when a young man sat right next to you. Attempting to ignore it, you keep typing. But he taps your shoulder and begins the conversation, you take out your earbuds cautiously, not knowing why he wishes to speak to you.

“College essay, huh?” He asks with a small laugh. “Haha, yeah…” you respond, kind of put off by the random comment. “Sorry, I seemed to have creeped you out. I just wanted to tell you that you’re very pretty. Which also sounds really creepy. I’m sorry about that.” The boy gives you a small, soft smile with his eyes closed. A very innocent face. One that kind of resembles a puppy. His face calms you. He sounded sincere with his apology. “No, no, it’s okay. But thank you! I appreciate it.” You smile softly back at him. “Here, my paper can wait, let’s talk.” You say, closing your computer.

So from then on until the coffee shop was just about to close, you talked and talked. You told him all about yourself, and he told you all about him. His name is Kim Seungmin, and he’s twenty-one years old. Apparently his family died a long time ago, and he’d been living on his own since - with the help of his seven other friends. Also, he’d seen you around at the shop before, he was just too scared to say hello.

All that happened a fairly long time ago. You’d been living with him since you graduated college. However, you moved in much faster than you were ready for. But when he tried to off himself once, you had to keep an eye on him. You couldn’t let such a lovely young man go to waste. So you moved in with him to keep him sane, keep him steady.

Little did you know that was always a big part of his manipulative plan.

Did he actually try to kill himself? Kind of. What he did was nowhere near critical, but you didn’t know that. It got you to stay with him, and that was all he wanted. You were the only important thing to him, and Seungmin being near you was his lifeline. But you didn’t think anything weird of this behavior. He needed you, there was nothing wrong with that. You felt suffocated, but you didn’t notice. It was normal to you. You were supposed to feel this way. He loved you, and you loved him.

You've lived together about two years at this point. Seungmin continued to work as an idol with his seven other friends. His work paid for you two to live together in a small home just outside the city. A small, suburban neighborhood. Your house has two bedrooms with a living room, kitchen, dining room, and bathroom. It was a nice home. He allowed you to decorate it how you liked. You loved your home with Seungmin. You loved being with him.

Especially after the incident with your family.

When they all mysteriously died in a car accident.

Wonder how that happened…

Here’s how it’s been with Seungmin:

~ You’re not allowed to go out alone. In fact, barely at all.

~ If he thinks your outfits are too revealing, he’ll convince you to change

~ If you “disobey” him, you’ll be “punished”

~ You aren’t allowed to talk to anybody else without his permission (not even his friends)

~ If he says he’s going to do something, you cannot stop him

These rules were never set in stone, they were just noticeable characteristics while being with him. And the punishments weren’t things like keeping food from you, just mentally and emotionally manipulating you until your mind breaks, and he’s made you feel horrible for what you’ve done. But you’ve learned that abiding by that list, you can avoid all of that. You can stay very happy with him.

And you are. Stay in the house, be a good girlfriend, and love Seungmin unconditionally. How could you be upset with such a precious face anyway? That’s right. You can’t. Because you’re too stuck on making sure he’s okay. And if you’re the reason he’s down, that’s not okay. You’re what is keeping him here. And he will never let you forget that.

“I’ll kill myself if you leave, Y/N.”

One day, Seungmin had returned from a recording day at the studio. He saw you lying on the couch in a pair of small shorts and a small tank top. He took you all in, how sexy you looked so relaxed with your body on display for him to see. Only him. Only he could see you in such a vulnerable outfit.

Seungmin walked over to you after taking his shoes and coat off. He sat next to the couch, and you looked at him with love. He caressed your cheek softly, and he smiled that beautiful smile from where you met him for the first time. “You look breathtaking, babygirl.” You giggled at him “Thank you, Minnie.” He leaned in close and closed his eyes, you doing the same as your lips connected in a sweet and tender way. Your hands reached around his neck and pulled him even closer. He pulled away, and you whined, but quickly, Seungmin threw you over his shoulder and carried you to your shared room as you squealed.

He threw you on the bed and crawled on top of you, connecting your lips again. His hands roamed your body, softly grasping your arms, legs, hips, and breasts. Every one of his touches is so gentle, but needy. It’s like he was savoring the first ever meal he’s had in years. “S-seungmin…” You moaned out as his teeth bit at your sensitive neck. It stung, the way his teeth bit so harshly, but you couldn’t ask him to stop. It hurt in so many fucked up ways. He bit and sucked on your neck in different places causing dark purple hickeys to appear all around. He kissed you deeply again before backing away and looking at your body, taking every ounce of you in.

“Fuck. I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You were breathing heavily, squirming around him as he stared at you with sadistic eyes. You were so desperate, so wanting, so needing for him. He was stuck in a trance as you bucked your hips up at nothing for any source of friction. He knew what you needed.

And it was him.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties and dragged them down, exposing your shining, soaking cunt to him. His mouth watered at the sight as you bucked up against him again. “Seungmin, please. I need you.” You moaned out. He backed off of you and before you could complain, he licked a long stripe against your clit, sucking on it while his fingers creeped around your hole that was already clenching around nothing. “S-Seungmin, please. I don’t know how much more I can take.” You moaned. He removed his mouth, and lightly smacked your pussy. “You’ll take everything I give you.” And he dove right back in. He had never acted this way before, but it was sexy.

He continued to devour you like you were a five star michelin meal, his finger that ghosted your hole had returned to rub circles around it until he plunged his fingers deep inside your dripping pussy. “U-ugh, fuck!” You tried to prop yourself on your elbows, but you could barely move. The tense buildup in your uterus was causing your entire body to feel tired, too tired to move. You knew you were close to cumming, and he knew it too. He could tell by the way your cunt sucked him in and clenched around his fingers. “Go ahead and cum babygirl. Just know I’m not finished with you yet.” And so you did, moaning out as loudly as possible as he thrusted his fingers while you came undone all over his face.

When you were finally calming down, he moved away from you, standing up from the bed and watching you from the foot of it. You were breathing heavily and looking up at him in a lost, doe-eyed trance. He stared back down at you, asserting his dominance in silence, the glare showing enough. His once soft, puppy-like face hardened while squirmed around more.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you to sit up, your face leveled to his crotch, as he pulled your tank top over your head, your tits bouncing free due to your lack of bra. Now you were completely exposed to him, and he was still fully clothed. It made you feel kind of humiliated. All of your body was on display for him. Nothing to hide, and he was drinking in the entire sight.

He removed his shirt, exposing his toned chest out for you. Now it was your turn to drink in the sight before you. Seeing his arms, chest, and abs made you shiver while your juices came leaking out mixing with his previous spit. “You’re a mess for me, baby. It’s for me, isn’t it? No one else? You haven’t been lurking around at anyone else, right?” He had a crazed look in his eyes now. Like a psychotic man about to kill his victim. You were quick to reassure him. “No, baby. It’s just you. Only you do this to me. I promise.” Your eyes showed sincerity and promise, his eyes softened before flipping you on your stomach and slapping your ass hard. You moaned. “Good girl. I’d hate having to kill someone.” (Which is not true, he’d love it) He slapped your ass again, and wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you up. “You’re all mine, princess. All. Mine.” He threw you on the bed again and pulled you by your hips to bring your ass in the air. Your holes now exposed to him.

He brings his hand to your clit and gently rubs it, causing you to moan and arch your back more. You hear him unzip his pants and pull them off. He directed his cock to your hole, sliding it against you over and over. The action makes you push against him in desperation for his dick. “Tsk, you want me to fuck you so bad you can barely control yourself. Maybe I need to tie you up to keep you under control.” You moaned and pushed up against him more. He’d never been this dominant before, and you wondered where it came from.

After what felt like years, he pushed into you slowly, stretching you out while you screamed into the pillow. “Don’t hide all those noises, baby. I want to hear them. I want the neighbors to hear them. Show the world who you belong to.” Seungmin wrapped his hands in your hair and pulled you up as you let out animalistic noises. He pulled you against his chest as his hand reached around your throat. He choked you as he fucked into you like you were some toy he could use for himself. “Seungmin, I’m so close. Please let me cum! Please! I’m begging!” You cried. He snickered at your desperate pleas to cum. Finding it so funny how he could corrupt all the innocence in you.

“Go ahead, Y/N, come undone on my cock.” As you let yourself release, you felt him cum too, deep inside you, the thrust starting to slow down, but he stayed deep in. He wasn’t going to waste a drop of his cum, he was going to make sure it all stayed in. He removed you from his cock - you were too tired to move. You felt relief as he laid you on your back until he shoved two fingers inside of your cunt, making you scream due to the overstimulation. “S-Seungmin, please, t-too m-much!” He just laughed. “You’ll take what I give you, and none of my cum will be wasted. You’re gonna carry my children soon, baby.” Fear grew in your body, too scared for kids, feeling like you’re not ready. He quickly realized this. “You are going to be a great parent. I promise.” He removed his fingers and brought his lips to your forehead, kissing you tenderly. You calmed and smiled. “Open your mouth.” You obliged, and Seungmin stuffed his fingers in. “You gotta clean up the mess you made.” You sucked on them willingly. He took them out with a pop, and moved you to straddle him. “You have to clean up ALL of the mess you made.” He pushed your head down to his cock and pulled the hair out of your face. You prepared yourself and opened your mouth wide, taking him slowly. You inched your way down, doing your best not to gag when it became too much to handle, but forcing yourself to go deeper for his pleasure. Soon, you found a pace to move your mouth up and down at, using your hand to cover any untouched area. Your hand moved in sync with your mouth, when you moved up, so did your hand, and when your mouth moved down, your hand moved down too. A rhythmic pattern that Seungmin moaned at.

You removed your mouth and licked around his dick. Up, down, and all around before pumping his cock with your hand and taking him in again. You repeated your patterns, though they started to get messier the more Seungmin came undone. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well with that pretty mouth of yours.” He pushed your head fully down his member as he released into your throat, keeping you still until he finished. Once he did, you cleaned him up again before removing him from your mouth and sitting up. He watched you lick your lips and swallow the final bit of his load as he smiled at your obedience. “Such a good girl.”

Seungmin pulled you close to his bare chest and kissed your head. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.” He carried you from the bedroom into the bathroom and turned on the bath, setting you inside before he joined you. He grabbed the bubbles just outside of the tub, and he had you pour them with the running water. Eventually he had you turn off the water. You both soaked in the tub for a little while until he rinsed the both of you and carried you to your bedroom.

He laid you on your bed and tucked you in tight before snuggling up close on the other side. You felt so warm and calm with him next to you. He felt the same way too.

Hours passed. You were for sure out like a light, dreams overtaken you in some other world of your subconscious mind. Seungmin, however, had crawled out of bed and threw on some clothes to head out of the house. He creeped out quietly, making sure to not disturb the peace. He moved over to the neighbor’s house, and snuck in through a window he made sure was unlocked the night before. Once he landed inside, he stalked through the house, looking for the scum that he had caught staring at you through your windows. Perverts like him don’t get to live, well, perverts that look at the one who belongs to him don’t get to live.

Seungmin opened the door silently and tip-toed over to the sleeping man, quickly attacking his pressure points to make him pass out without struggle. He carried the man out of the house and to his yard while covering any tracks he may have left. He shoved him into the car and drove far out of the way. Later on, the man awoke, tied up in ropes, ready to scream, but unable to. Seungmin came into view. “Think you get to spy on another man’s fiance like that?” The man looked at him in fear, trying to protest. “Shut it. I’m not an idiot.” Seungmin grabbed his gun and shot the man in the right leg, then the left, then the right arm, and then the left. The man was in agony, bleeding everywhere until Seungmin finally finished him off with a bullet to the head.

After a couple hours of cleaning up and disposing, he drove home before you woke up. He snuggled close up next to you, waiting for you to wake up next to him. Life is better without scum like that man anyway.

You woke up next to Seungmin a few hours later, smiling at him while he slept ever so peacefully with his arms tightly hugged around you. Life was good. Even if Seungmin was a little unhinged. But you didn’t know that. This is what love is supposed to be.

Extra/Bonus Scene !! hehehe

One year later

It had been a year. You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, and you were married to the love of your life. You wanted to run from him as soon as you accidentally caught Seungmin in the act of murdering someone. But you knew you couldn’t leave him. You loved him so much, and you had his child to take care of! Your son needed his father, especially after Seungmin had to live without his and eventually you without yours. Plus, if Seungmin was willing to kill someone, what would stop him from killing you if you left?

The wedding was beautiful. Not many people attended. A few old friends from your life, and the friends from his. He actually let you talk to everyone without permission this time. The wedding took place in a deep wooded area with a beautiful clearing next to a pond. Your dress was big and poofy with a long trail dragging behind. It was the purest and brightest of white, making the color of your eyes pop. When he saw you walking down the aisle, he saw his beautiful, somewhat innocent, soon to be wife. He adored everything about you.

You thought it was strange when he didn’t stop you from talking to everyone at the wedding. Until the very end, when he had you ride to the new home that had been built all for you in the middle of nowhere. While you were escorted back, he massacred everyone there - including his seven best buds: Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin. Then, when he finished up that job and came back to yours, he killed the man who drove you to the house.

You stood there, stunned, your beautiful, white gown now stained red. You wanted to scream, but when you saw his perfect, puppy-like face smile at you like the first day you met, you smiled too. He scooped you up into his arms and carried you into your perfect new home. For you, your son, and him.

All of this because Seungmin has loved you since you were young neighbors. Since he stared at you from afar ever since he could remember.

All of this because Seungmin wanted to protect you with everything in him.

Because Seungmin is deeply in love with you.

[donutloverxo]

THE MOBSTER ONE! MYHEART! Can we get a pt2 where they actually go on that vacation and steeb is constantly busy w work calls and has to make it up to reader type of smut !!

Omg I'm obsessed with mob Steve too😍😍 some smut, bratty reader, mob Steve, daddy kink, spanking.

READ WRAPPED

"Good morning Nice!" You screamed at the top of your lungs at the beautiful view of the French Riviera your hotels balcony offered you. You hummed reveling in the way the wind fanned your hair. "Let's go sight seeing, Stevie!" You said before turning around and frowning to see him working on his computer. He had stayed up all night typing away on the darn thing.

When you didn't get an answer from him you walked to him and folded your arms tapping your foot. "Steve! Ugh" You groaned at just how beautiful he looked, his eyebrows furrowed at the screen and his jaw covered by his glorious beard--clenched clenched tightly as he concentrated on the screen--instead of paying attention to you. It was impossible to stay mad at him while he looked so pretty.

"Steve, come on! You're seriously pissing me off." You huffed.

"Yeah, well the feelings mutual, doll." He mumbled, sparing you a glance as you gasped at his incredulous statement. "I've got important business -"

"You never have time for me! I've spent this entire week with Peter or fucking Sam and Bucky. What is this, a boys trip or a romantic getaway?"

"You know they're here to protect us."

"Protect us from what? Steve I don't know what you do, frankly I just zone out whenever you talk about work because it's really boring. But... just how shady is it? Do you hurt other people? Why would anyone want to hurt you?"

"They just do. Now enough," He tried to shoo you away but of course you being you stood your ground, making him roll his eyes and call his best bud,

"Come and take my girl to the beach," he told Bucky.

He didn't exactly like the idea of him ogling your half naked body, you seemed to be taking full advantage of the topless beaches around here, but he trusted his friend and you and knew better than to get on your nerves anymore than he already has.

When Steve refused to give you any attention, instead chucking you off to Bucky as if you were some pesky task or chore, you decided to blast Ariana Grande loudly over the speakers, singing along and dancing as if you had no other care in the world.

"Hey, princess," you heard Bucky's voice over the music before you saw him, turning to see him with his hands shoved in his shorts, "let's go the beach."

And while a day on the beach and on the town with the boys didn't sound too bad... you had to protect your ego--which may have been a bit hurt by being ignored so cruelly.

"Aww, Buckie," you cooed, skipping over to him and throwing your arms around his neck, giving him just a little peck on his lips as 'hello' as they often do in Europe, "You're the only one in this whole wide world who cares about me," you pursed your lips.

Steve knew you were being dramatic and were up to no good--as usual. So he paid you no mind, that would only worsen your antics. That was until he heard you say, in that sweet raspy, perhaps a bit mewly, feminine voice of yours say...

"I love you. And only you." You beamed up at him.

"You're gonna get me killed you know that, right?" Bucky shook his head but couldn't find it in himself to pull away. Not when you looked up at him with such sweet doe eyes, how Steve could ever say no to you was beyond him.

"Alright," Steve said, shutting his computer and keeping it aside for now, looking for the remote to switch off the annoying song you had on, "Enough." He instructed.

"Fine," you shrugged, "we'll be out of your hair. let me grab my stuff, Buck."

"No," he growled. "Bucky, leave now. I'll have to have a talk with you later," he gave a pointed stare to him before directing the same to you. "What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?"

Aha! He finally saw the remote, turning off the song as he glared at you. "Do you think this is proper behavior for a lady?"

You scoffed. You had never agreed to being a lady. He just pegged you as one because at the end of the day he was an old fashioned man who was in love with your softer, feminine qualities. Showering you in pretty dresses, diamonds, pearls, make up and anything you would ever ask for. Which is why you never complained.

"Well, since you're so keen on chucking me off to the next guy, I suppose you wouldn't mind if I went and let Bucky or Sam, or both, fuck me," you urged him. Fueling his rage till he saw red.

Stalking over to you in two long strides, he grabbed at your face, his stature taller and imposing over yours as he squeezed your jaw, puckering your lips, "You watch your tongue, honey. I'll cut any man who even looks at you the wrong way."

"You're jusht all talk," you told him, your words jumbled because of his hold on you, "you don't really care about me. If you did you'd actually want to spend time with me. You don't want me..." You hated the way your voice quivered at the end, tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill as you tried to look anywhere but at his face.

He let go of his grip, his hand still on your face as his thumb wiped away your tears, his furrowed brow softening just a bit, "You know I love you, honey. You wouldn't be here if I didn't want you. I'm not one to string a girl along, especially one as pretty as you."

You cracked a smile at that, "You can't work your charm on me like you always do!"

He grabbed a hold on the back of your head, yanking it back till it bared your neck to him, "How about I work my tongue on you then, hm?" His tongue peaking out to lick a firm stripe up your neck.

You squealed as he grabbed at your waist, pulling you up and throwing you over his shoulder before dropping you on the mattress, pulling you to the edge his nimble fingers worked on rolling your panties down your legs.

He stared at your pussy, he never really could get over just how beautiful it was. "You're fucking soaked, sweetheart," he observed, pulling your intimate lips aaprt and slibing a finger in, "This for Bucky?"

Propping yourself up on your elbows, "No," you shook your head, "Only for you, daddy."

"Good, now, tell me what you'd like me to do you? You'll have to be punished for making me look like a fool in front of my friend and flirting with him like that," he rubbed his beard over your inner thighs, knowing just how crazy that drives you.

"I'm sorry," you whined, "I didn't even think of that..."

How Steve wasn't just Bucky's friend but also his boss, what must he think of Steve and you now?

"I forgive you, honey. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook. And... I'm sorry too," he said against your thigh, pressing a kiss to it.

He picked up his phone, sailing his friend, "Bucky, go back to Manhattan, you'll have to take care of business for a bit. I have to spend time with my girl and soon to be wife."

To which you let out a sound of displeasure, "If you think you can go around calling me your fiance without proposing properly or putting a ring with a huge ass diamond on it - "

But before you could even finish your sentence he had flipped you over so that you were on your back, delivering firm harsh slaps to your butt as you pressed your face into the bedding to muffle your moans.

"I'll put a ring on it soon enough, don't you worry your pretty little head about that," he said, pressing his tip against your entrance, "Right now you worry about how you will walk to dinner after I fuck you till you can't even remember your own name."

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

RuneDate (Belphie x GN!Reader)

3.1K Words

(Went all in on the runescape fic... Whoops!)

“I can’t believe you decided to go visit your family right before a fucking pandemic hit.” Belphie groaned into his phone. It had only been a week then since it had started and he was already complaining. You could only laugh in response, reiterating what the news reporters and the doctors on the tv had said.

“Only one more week. Fourteen days tops, and then I’ll be back down there with you.” You said cheerfully, your feet swinging back and forth in the air. You always acted this way when you talked to him, and he talked to you on the phone every night since you had been up in the human world, so this is how you spent most of your evenings. You loved the sound of his voice, it always made you smile, and you’d find yourself getting flustered, even if he wasn’t trying to get you that way.

“It better only be one more week. I… I mi-.... My bed is really empty, okay. So just, hurry up.” He grumbled, and you were sure that if you could see him his cheeks would be a bright shade of red, his face now buried in his pillow to hide his embarrassment as if you could actually see him through the phone.

“Mmhm… I’ll see you by the end of next week, alright. Get some sleep. Goodnight.” You hadn’t been able to hide the fact that you were laughing. He tried so hard to cover up just how cute he could be, but he wasn’t very good at doing it. He mumbled a quiet goodnight before hanging up the phone. You couldn’t wait to see him again, and this next week couldn’t go fast enough so you could finally be in his arms again.

Morning came, the same as it always did. The birds outside singing and dogs in the distance barking at whatever passed by. You groaned quietly, grabbing your pillow from underneath your head and holding it over your face, trying to block out the sunlight that streamed through, but the buzzing of your phone beside you had your eyes opening slightly, reaching out to grab it and answer the call.

“It’s too early, Belphie.” You were exhausted even though you hadn’t really done much the day before, but your sleep schedule was a wreck and waking up at 8 in the morning meant that you had only gotten four hours of sleep and you desperately wanted more.

“Hmph. You’re not going to bed at a good time. Plus, I haven’t been able to sleep either.” It was a constant complaint of his, one that’s become expected, not that it was your fault, and he didn’t blame you for it… But you did hear about it a lot. “Let me guess… Just one more week, right?” He mocked the words that you had said over a year ago. You could hear the annoyance in his voice, and you’ve explained to him multiple times that it wasn’t your fault, humans were just selfish and stupid, and he didn’t disagree with you at all.

“I wish. I miss you… Maybe I can’t sleep because I’m not with you.” You heard him scoff on his end of the phone, and then the rustling of his sheets as he got out of bed. It’s like you could almost see him if you closed your eyes and listened close enough. He was on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, the sound of the floorboards that creaked beneath his feet were distinct and made it clear that that’s where he was going.

“Oh please…” He mumbled around his toothbrush, and while most would be annoyed with him talking while doing it, to you it just made things seem a little bit more normal. He would always try to talk to you from the bathroom while he brushed his teeth, and you could see it now, the toothpaste dripping from the corners of his mouth that you’d roll your eyes at but quickly throw him a rag for before it got on his clothes. “You never went to bed at a decent time down here either. You always wanted to stay up and watch horror movies, I had to practically put your ass to sleep.” He let out a low chuckle before spitting into the sink and then rinsing his toothbrush off. “I have an idea.”

“Oh? What is it?” You sat up in bed, intrigued by whatever his idea could possibly be. You knew that he wasn’t going to sneak up and spend the night with you, as much as you wanted him to. Diavolo was put off by the idea of anyone coming or going from the Devildom, he didn’t know if demons could catch the virus, and he wasn’t going to risk catching it himself.

“You ever play runescape? I know it’s an old game… but… It can be like a date… or something…” He quickly swigged the mouthwash, definitely trying to hide the fact that, again, he was flustered by his own words. God, if he got any cuter your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“A runescape date. Yeah… that sounds really fun. Tonight then?” You were already pushing yourself off your bed and going over to your computer, quickly signing up and downloading the game for later. It had been so long since you’ve actually played it, and even if it was slightly confusing and you were, on a stat level, an absolute fucking nooby… it would be fun, because you were playing it with him.

“Tonight. And uh… maybe I can teach you how to fish… I’m really good at fishing. I just reached level 98.” And honestly, that was the hottest fucking thing you’ve heard him say in a while. Like… level 98 fishing in runescape. Fuck! You really just wanted to see him fish at this point, but you’d have to wait until later.

“You’re gonna have to teach me a lot of things… It’s been a while.” You were talking about the game, and you knew that he knew you were talking about the game, and you were pretty sure that you hadn’t sounded seductive or hinted at anything sexual, but Belphie was… well… Belphie, and he knew how to turn things in that direction quite easily, and he knew that it would have you stuttering a little and it was like he lived just to fluster you at the most random moments.

“It’s been too long, but I’ll teach you a lot of new things once I have you back here.” You hated him… you adored him but you hated him. You both knew that you couldn’t do anything about the feelings that he had purposely made you feel right now, but he loved teasing you, just to get you back for all the times you teased him over text. He cleared his throat, and you could hear him walking back out into the bedroom. “Alright well, I’ll call you later. Can’t wait for our date tonight.” He chuckled softly, knowing that he was basically blue balling you at this point, but you’d also get him back for it, you just needed to think of how. He quickly hung up before you could say anything else, and you knew that he was laughing his way all the way back to his bed where he’d lay back down and probably pass out for the next hour or so. At least it gave you time to finish the tutorial and try to get the hang of the basics.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing, and that was an understatement. You spent hours wandering around the map, accidentally starting fights with random NPC’s and big ass rats which you’d run away from immediately because you weren’t about to die, you wouldn’t let that happen to yourself. You tried to get the hang of fishing, which… props to Belphie… you didn’t understand it. You weren’t catching shit, and the couple times that you did, it was nothing but shrimp. An entire ocean full of bottom feeders, which wasn’t a problem, aside from the fact that your pockets were filled to the brim with shrimp… that you tried to cook but you aren’t very good at that… so then it just became filled with burnt shrimp that you couldn’t eat and you didn’t know how to drop either.

By the time the date rolled around… you weren’t any better off than you were when you first started. You only went up like one level in fishing and you weren’t even sure how that happened, but it took about five hours. Your stats were a solid 0 on everything else, and you were still stacked with burnt shrimp… so all in all things were going great in the game and you hadn’t died yet.

“Alright so… you have to add me first…” He said, and he honestly had the patience of a saint because, like everything else in the game, you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing. “Do you know how to do that?” He asked after a couple seconds in which you were staring at the screen and trying to figure out what to push to add him.

“Nope…” And as much as you tried to laugh it off, you felt like a freaking idiot. He chuckled lightly, guiding you through what should have been the easiest task. Once you had added him, man you felt so cool. You did that… with help… but you did that.

“Okay, now… you have to do the spell to get you to the castle. It’s like the teleport thing… it was in the tutorial.” The tutorial, that you had already almost completely forgotten about… except the part where you made bread. For some reason that really stuck with you. “The spell book, it should be on the left side… do you see it?”

“Oh… OH! Yeah I see it!” Finding the spell book was simple, but figuring out how to actually teleport was so confusing for some reason. You realized that triple clicking was, in fact, not helping at all. You only needed to click once and then your character would go through the motions and then they’d teleport. “OH I got it! Okay… coming to the castle… okay… Oh I’m here!”

“There you are! You’re doing great. Okay… now just… first we’re gonna go to the bank and you can put all your stuff in there. So just… follow me. Do you know how to do that?” No, no you did not… but you said that you did because you didn’t want to seem like more of an idiot than you already felt. He already knew that you didn’t though, apparently the fact that you didn’t know how to use your magic or how to add a friend made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t know how to follow his character, so he quickly ran down how to do that too, which was such a big help, he doesn’t even know. “Alright, and when you get to the stairs, you’re gonna have to click that you want to go up.”

“Right… the stairs… got it!” The fact that you wanted to clap for yourself when you successfully went up the stairs just goes to show how much you don’t understand about the game. “Okay… I’m at the top… Oh wait, I have to follow you again… Okay… Okay I got it.” The fact that he wasn’t annoyed yet was shocking, and you constantly felt the need to apologize for being so clueless about what to do. You were glad to know that he couldn’t hear the constant clicking of your mouse as you tried to figure out where exactly to click to actually do something. “Alright… my bag is empty… now what….”

“You have to keep your sword and your shield… just those two… the sword and the shield. And then I’m gonna trade with you… You’re gonna need a lot of food, and I need to get rid of these lobsters.” You nodded to yourself, quickly putting the sword and shield back before closing the window and facing his character again. You didn’t know how trading worked at all, you didn’t know if a window was supposed to show up or what… but you waited, and even if you felt like a complete fool, just being able to spend with him like this, it made you happy and even if he couldn’t see you, you were smiling the entire time.

Once you finally figured out how to trade and you were stocked with lobsters, that’s when the real fun began. “Okay… now you’re ready. Do you want to fight the goblins or the cows?” You paused for a second, and you really had to think about it for a second. Cows or goblins…? You didn’t want to fight the goblins because you just assumed that they would be stronger (even though after playing for a bit and raising your own level you realized that they were the same strength as a fucking cow… weak ass goblins), but you really didn’t want to fight the cows… for obvious reasons, but you just assumed they’d be weaker, so you chose them anyway.

“So I just… I just click on the cow?” You asked after he led you to the little gated off area with the cows, and he hummed in agreement, standing back a little as you found the “right” cow to start fighting. “And this’ll raise my strength?”

“Yeah, but you should probably work at your shield first so… try changing your attack…” And there it was again… something you didn’t know how to do, which, again, he knew very well that you didn’t know how to do it. “Alright, you see the swords on the left side of the screen? The little button with the swords? Click that… and then change your attack mode to the one for shielding….” As if you’d know which one that is, but you were gonna wing it and hope that you picked the right one. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you for not knowing, at least not to your face.

The amount of damage that these cows delivered almost made you not feel bad for absolutely beating the shit out of them with the weak ass beginners sword that you had. “Oh my… fuck… do you hear my button clicking?” You asked while rapidly smashing the button on your mouse. You hoped he didn’t, but god, even to you it sounded loud and you had earphones on. “It just keeps doing damage to me but I can’t fucking hit it?!”

“Your stats aren’t high enough yet.” He said in between his laughter. If Levi was there he’d definitely be judging you right now. You were getting your ass handed to you by a fucking level 2 cow, how ridiculous is that?! “Just raise your shield more and then you can choose another attack method to raise your strength. You should at least get them all to five.” Five was a pretty high number to aim for considering you were only getting like 2xp everytime you even hit the cow, but, even if it took forever, you’d have him there with you.

It turned into the both of you just shooting the shit while you went around and murdered every single cow, occasionally being prompted by Belphie to eat a lobster before you die… and you probably should have used the wicked sweet one liner of “wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten killed by a cow”, but you were too busy to think of it while killing the cows yourself. You were too busy talking and rapidly clicking at the cow to realize that your health was low, and before you knew it you were dealing with death, who is legitimately the most annoying, talkative fucking character in the game.

“Oh shit… you died?”

“Yeah and Death won’t shut up. He just… oh my god… shut up.” You whined softly, much to Belphies amusement. Every time you tried to leave Deaths weird ass portal cave he kept calling you back to tell you more which only annoyed you further, which in turn had Belphie laughing which was your favorite sound aside from his actual talking… so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“I told you to eat the lobsters. That’s why I gave them to you.” He was still laughing as he told you the reasoning behind the lobster trade, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. You hadn’t had this much fun since you were actually down in the Devildom with him.

“I'm gonna fuck these cows up.”

“And eat the lobsters while doing it.” He added, which made you snort quietly… even though he heard it and proceeded to laugh even more. You had never heard him laugh so much, and as much as you hated the fact that you couldn’t be there with him in person to see him, you still got to hear him laugh, which was the most you could ask for at this point.

Neither of you had realized how long you had been playing until you heard Beel come in the room through Belphies mic, clearly scaring him because you could hear the sharp gasp and then the quiet mumble of “fucking Beel…” before he actually acknowledged his twin.

“Ah shit… Hey, Beel wants to go get some Akudonalds…” Belphie said, and while you knew that you couldn’t stay in a call or play the game forever, it was always hard whenever the calls ended for the night. “Keep playing though… level up more…”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get on your level.” You teased, and you heard him scoff again and you were pretty sure he rolled his eyes. He and you both knew that even making it halfway to his level would take forever, but if it meant being able to play with him again, you’d do your best to get halfway to halfway there. “I’ll talk to you later…”

“Well duh… I’m not leaving forever, dork. I’m going to get some chicken nuggets. I’ll text you when I get back.” He sighed softly. “We’ll have to do this again though… And try to go to bed at a decent hour. Please. I’ll visit you in your dreams if you do-”

“I’m hanging up now and going to bed! I’ll be asleep by the time you get back with your nuggets! Goodnight!” You quickly hung up, and just as you were about to close everything out on your computer and actually go to bed, you saw him typing.

“You’re such a dork… I’ll be there soon. Goodnight 💙”

[itskateak]

Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Six

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Chapter Summary: Bucky offers to help Y/N take Peter Parker and Angelica out for the day since they've been causing chaos and getting into trouble. The hiking trail behind the compound seems like the perfect place.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Some Language (Sam and Bucky were military men shh), Sam Wilson being a great friend and actual character instead of a 2D support, Anxiety attack, Mentions of time-correct homophobia, Fluff, Sam and Bucky being Bros, Sam Wilson being an Ally

A/N: For those who don't know, my best friend is in the hospital and I had to take a break from being online and writing for a bit. He's doing great right now and is getting much better :) - also, I know I have a thing for Bucky and that log crossing a river. Okay just let it happen. It's cute. 

And as a final side note, I really hope I’m putting more character into Sam Wilson. I wanted to expand on Bucky and Sam’s friendship more in this chapter and to build Sam as an actual character. I’ve read countless stories where he’s just a prop to get Bucky and the reader together or to just be Best Friend to Bucky and go along with anything. Sam Wilson is his own person and I really, really hope that he’s got some life in him in this one. Feedback on that would be nice if anyone wants to give it :)

Taglist is open! PM me, send an ask, or @ me on a chapter to let me know you’d like to be tagged! Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, but I will send you a message with a link to the new chapter when I update. :)

Masterlist

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Y/N checked his messages quickly, head tilted as he waited for it to update. Over weekends, he decided to work three hours each day to make sure nothing important and time-sensitive came in. He was close to the end of those three hours, which wasn't eventful at any point. Just low-level information relating to other movements that he'd already taken note of earlier that week.

He watched the few messages come in and glanced over them. Nothing seemed to be important other than Gamora saying that they would be stopping by to drop off Peter Quill for a recovery period. Something about an injury he gained through his own stupidity. He responded with a confirmation and said that Monday afternoon would be best since the landing strip would be clear.

"Do you have a minute?" Bucky called from the doorway. He smiled, but it looked a little forced. His posture was closed off and he looked physically tense.

"Always. What's up?" Y/N pushed away from his desk and closed the programs on his screen since he didn't need them anymore.

"Uh...I'm kind of...having an anxiety attack or something." Bucky said though it sounded more like he was questioning himself. He ducked his head sheepishly for a moment. "And Steve and Sam are not here and I dunno what to do."

"Oh. Okay." Y/N was taken by surprise for a moment. "Uh, come on in. Let's see if we can calm you down."

Bucky nodded and sat rigidly on the edge of the couch, his arms wrapping around his stomach. His fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt and he gasped suddenly. He cracked a slight smile and snorted. "Didn't realize I was holding my breath."

"Breathing's important, Bucky. Do you know what set this off?" Y/N asked, pulling his chair up to the side of his desk and giving his full attention to Bucky.

"Loud noise. Not even sure what it was. It took me off-guard and...then I fell off the obstacle course." Bucky grimaced and took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. "I...have a fear of fallin'. Ever since I fell off the train."

"Is it the height or the feeling of falling itself?" 

"The feel. I hate it." Bucky wrinkled his nose up in disgust. "I can still remember the feeling of my stomach in my throat."

"Hey, don't think about that. No need to get yourself even more worked up." Y/N paused, trying to find a random question to distract him with for a little bit. Maybe taking his mind off the things causing him anxiety would help calm him down. "Tell me about something Steve did in school. Did he ever get into big trouble?"

"Oh, yeah. This one time - it was like sixth grade, I think - he nearly got us suspended for a week. Johnny Sarsburg, a boy in our class who picked on Stevie for being short, was this tall and burly kid. Real jerk of a guy." Bucky moved his arms and laced his hands together. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "One day, Steve got fed up with all the nicknames. Shorty Stevie, Munchkin Man...they went on and on. So, Stevie stood up to him. Thank God I was there, though."

"Don't tell me he tried to kick this kid's ass." 

"He tried to kick the kid's ass." Bucky nodded with a tone full of disappointed frustration.

"Oh, no." Y/N snickered behind his hand. 

"So, it was recess and Johnny came up to us. Stevie tried to hide behind me for a second, but I shoved him away. Johnny started picking at him and picking at him. Steve straightened up and clenched his fists, looked Johnny in the eye, and said: I may be short, but I'll always be a bigger man than you." Bucky laughed, breaking out into a smile for the first time. He ran a hand through his hair. 

"He didn't!" Y/N could see Steve Rogers, the man who had no regard for his own personal safety and hated bullies, doing something so ridiculous but just so...Steve.

"He did! Johnny didn't like that so much, so he cocked back his fist and came at Steve. Stevie tried to fight back, but he really wasn't a fighter back then. Just looking at a running track could make him break into an asthma attack and thinking about lifting a book could've snapped his spine."

Y/N snickered, shaking his head. Bucky was looking far more relaxed than he did when he came in. His shoulders weren't rigid and he wasn't gasping for breath. Though, it looked like his hands were slightly trembling still. "So, how'd it turn out?"

"At some point, I grabbed Steve around the waist and tried to haul him away. But Johnny didn't like that either, so he went after me. Now, I was a bit of a troublemaker so I knew how to fight. I wasn't lookin' to get into trouble, but Stevie had dragged me into a mess. Had to clean it up, like I do now." Bucky winked and chuckled. "The teachers had to come break it up and we had to explain what happened. Johnny was suspended for a week and our parents said they'd punish us at home, so we got off easy." 

"Even at home?"

"Oh, no. My dad was pissed and Stevie's mother almost hung him out with the laundry. But at least we weren't suspended like Johnny was." He leaned back against the couch and sighed. "Did you just distract me?"

"Maaaaybe. How're you feeling?" Y/N laughed and checked the clock. His time was up which meant the rest of the day was his to do whatever he wanted.

"Better. Not like I'm choking on my own air, at least. I'm still wired, though." Bucky held his right hand up to show how it was still shaking a bit.

"Wanda told me about a hiking trail behind the compound. We could go check that out and get Peter and Angelica outside for a bit. If you're up for that, of course." Y/N offered. He secretly hoped Bucky would take him up on the offer. He wanted the chance to talk to him more when they were both completely sober.

"That sounds...great, actually. Besides, I don't think you could wrangle both of them on your own." He said with a teasing lilt and stood. "I'll find Peter and meet you downstairs."

"I need to shut my computers down first." Y/N pushed his chair back and moved his mouse to wake his monitors. "If you find my kid before I do, send her my way."

"Roger that."

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Peter was walking a few feet ahead with Angelica on his back, bouncing her every so often to make her squeal and laugh. There was a light breeze rustling through the branches of the trees, which were providing the right amount of shade from the late autumn sun. The weather was that perfect balance of warm and cool. Just right for a light jacket. The trail wasn't well used, evidence provided by the undergrowth creeping along the edges of the path, threatening to overtake it. 

Y/N and Bucky were casually talking as they followed the kids. The conversation flowed easily between them like they'd been friends for years. 

"So, she's how old, again?" Bucky asked, hitching his chin toward Angelica.

"Eight. Nine next Wednesday." Y/N smiled wistfully, watching his daughter shoot a bright smile at him over her shoulder. He'd been so afraid that this move would've negatively affected her and caused her to be miserable. But she had never looked happier or carefree. She'd always been a solemn little girl with many worries on her shoulders.

"She's growin' fast, huh?" Bucky smiled, too, shaking his head as another loud squeal floated back to them.

"Too fast. She's always gonna be my little girl, though." Y/N glanced up as a couple of birds flitted from one tree to the next. "I'm glad she's happy here and finding her place. She doesn't say it, but I know she feels like an outsider sometimes."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, sinking his hands into his pockets.

"I know she feels out of place among friends a lot. The fact her mother isn't around and she doesn't have a second parent...some kids can be really mean about that." He sighed. "And it's not like that's her fault. But she feels that way and I don't know how to help her."

"Why would she think it's her fault?" Bucky stepped closer as if he knew the topic needed to be kept quieter to not disturb the girl a few feet ahead.

"I don't know where she got the idea, honestly. Her mother did leave a note when she left and part of the reason she left...well, Angelica wasn't exactly planned." Y/N muttered the last part to make sure it didn't reach his kid. He loved her, he really did. At first, he'd been terrified at the prospect of being a father when he wasn't ready. But the moment he held that little girl in his arms, he was smitten. "And her mother said some...nasty things in the letter about her."

"I can't imagine how that would've been for you." Bucky gave a sympathetic grimace. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"No, it's okay. I don't talk about it much because it's in the past and we're doing great without that woman." He shrugged and smiled. "I kept the letter, though, as precautionary measures in case she ever decides to come back and fight for custody. I doubt that would happen, really, but the court system is so messed up and might not rule in favor of me despite the fact I've raised her."

"If a court of law can see how much you love that kid and how much she loves you and is happy with you and still not let her stay with you, then I might have to return to my vigilante days." Bucky joked, though he sounded and looked serious.

"Bucky, no."

"I'd do it."

"I know, but no." Y/N laughed and shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I think an appeal would work better."

"Okay, you have a point," Bucky said. "So, I've never asked but what got you on the team? Steve didn't tell me and Stark won't because he's still mad about game night five months ago."

"I caught four embezzlers in the compound by hacking into the hidden servers that keep backups of pretty much everything, even if it's been wiped from the main servers. I would've gotten away with it if I hadn't tripped the single silent alarm monitored by FRIDAY. Tony promoted me shortly after I handed the information over to Grace Stevens in accounting." Y/N explained with a smile. "I thought I was fired or being thrown in jail. Those were the most terrifying few minutes of my life."

Bucky whistled. "That's impressive. Even Nat couldn't get through Stark's security lines to retrieve deleted footage of him drunkenly singing karaoke in his lab."

"I might have to go digging for that to earn a favor from Nat." Y/N took his phone out and made a reminder, causing Bucky to start laughing. His eyes crinkled up at the corners with his bright smile. "Oh, Pete, be careful! That might be slippery!"

Peter was halfway across the large fallen tree trunk over the moderately moving river. He turned his head to listen to Y/N and nodded, shifting his grip on Angelica. He moved slower then, watching his footing to make sure they didn't fall.

"So, we're gonna cross that?" Bucky asked, eyeing the log warily. Falling. He hates falling. That's right, Y/N thought. Of course, he'd be uncomfortable with something like this because he might fall.

"I guess. Wanda said there's lakeside access across the river and down the path." Y/N stopped at the tree, watching to make sure the kids made it across safely. He trusted Peter, considering the kid was a literal superhero and gymnast, but he was also a dad and his Dad Instincts were kicking in. "You gonna be okay with crossing?"

"If I don't fall, I will," Bucky forced a smile, but Y/N could see the anxiety behind it. 

"Here, take my hand. We'll cross together and we'll go slow. I'll make sure you won't fall." Y/N held his hand out to Bucky and tried his best to ignore the small jolt of electricity that shot through his veins when Bucky accepted it. "Come on."

"If I fall, I'm dragging you with me," Bucky said with a joking tone, but there was a shake to his voice as he stepped onto the log after the man holding his hand.

"Valid." Y/N snorted before focusing on where he was putting his feet. He couldn't slip and risk giving Bucky a heart attack. He was trusting him to get him across this river safely. "If you need to stop at any point, just tell me and we can."

"Nope. Just keep moving even if I start to freeze up because if I stop, I won't move again." Bucky was able to flash a quick lopsided smile even though he was doing something that ultimately terrified him. 

"You got this, Bucky!" Angelica shouted from the other side, bouncing on her feet like a highly-caffeinated bouncy ball. "You're almost there!"

Y/N grinned to himself. Leave it to his kid to become a cheerleader for them without even knowing that Bucky really needed that encouragement. He swore his daughter had supernatural abilities of knowing what someone needed when they needed it. When she was much younger, there had been nights where he was stressed about making ends meet and she would crawl into his lap and hug him tightly until he forgot what was bothering him.

Lost in thought for just the brief moment spelled ruin for him. His foot slipped on a wet spot and he lost his balance.

Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled him back, keeping him steady until he regained his footing. He chuckled. "Jeez, Y/N. I thought you'd be saving me from falling and not the other way around."

"You're lucky I'm nice 'cause I would've just shoved you off this log and let you wash down the river." Y/N retorted though he couldn't keep his expression stern and a smile broke out. "So, that spot's slippery. Be careful."

"Oh, I was just planning to plant my foot on it and run the rest of the way." Bucky teased, appearing way more at ease than Y/N expected he would. Maybe that's what happens when someone has to save their non-fearful friend from falling.

Once they were on the other side and on solid ground, there was a pause of silence between everyone before they all burst into laughter.

"Mr. Barnes, your face when Mr. L/N slipped! You were so surprised!" Peter bent over, trying to catch his breath. 

"Y/N, I thought you were a goner for a moment. And if I hadn't already had a hand on you, I probably would've just let you fall." Bucky was barely able to speak through his laughter, smile so wide his eyes were crinkled up. 

"Oh, I see how it is!" Y/N acted offended. "See if I ever team with you on game nights again."

"Ooh, he's serious." Angelica giggled, wiping tears from her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N but I was not risking falling just to save you if I hadn't already had your hand." Bucky took deep breaths, also wiping his face with his jacket sleeve. 

"What happened to till the end of the line?" Peter asked, taking deep breaths. 

"That's a me and Steve thing. And even then, I'd just let his dumbass fall." Bucky winced. "Sorry, language."

Angelica grinned broadly with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, don't worry. Papa swears a lot more than you might think. He thinks I don't hear  him mutter things under his breath, but I do."

"You little snitch!" Y/N exclaimed. "I can't believe you!"

"Oh no...Angelica, we gotta go!" Peter scooped Angelica up and dashed down the trail. Y/N started to give chase but slowed down as they turned the bend. 

Bucky followed at a slower pace, shaking his head in amusement. He caught up to the father who was straightening his jacket. "You're not going after them?"

"Nah. I just made them think there was an actual threat. They'll probably get all the way to the lake before they realize I'm not actually chasing them." Y/N grinned. "So, want to tell me about that game night five months ago?"

"It started when Nat brought vodka back from a mission in Russia and decided not to tell us it was hundred-proof..."

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"Hey, Buck. How's your day?" Sam asked as he entered the training room with a towel around his neck and a water bottle in hand. "Sorry that Steve and I dipped on you."

"Don't worry about it. It's alright," Bucky grunted before setting down the set of weights he'd been lifting. "My day was pretty good. Except when Stark accidentally set off an explosion in the lab while I was running the obstacle course. Scared the hell out of me and then I fell off."

"Shit, man. You okay?" Sam placed his water bottle and towel on a bench near Bucky. "I know you don't like falling and loud noises so that just seems brutal."

"My adrenaline kept it low but I still started to freak out after I cleaned up." He admitted before taking a drink of his own water and using his shirt to wipe some of the sweat from his forehead. "Y/N helped me out with that."

"You went to Y/N? Why not Bruce or Wanda? Hell, even Nat?" Sam arched his brow and there was a hint of something behind his eyes.

"Dunno. He's nice, ya know? I figured he'd have some experience with that kind of stuff. Having a kid would teach you how to calm someone down when they're freaking out and I've seen him chill Angelica out faster than she could even process why she was upset." Bucky said, sitting down on a bench to give himself a break. He'd been in the training room for an hour already and it was about time to take a breather. "After that, we took Angelica and Pete out on that hiking trail Wanda found just to get them outside since they were causing trouble and everyone needed a break."

"Hey, as long as you found a way to calm down and not have a panic attack, I won't knock it. Happy for you, man. You're doing really good recently." Sam started to set up the machine he liked to use. Can't have a tree without the trunk, you know what I'm saying? Sometimes Bucky really didn't like Sam, but he was a great friend and great company when he wasn't being an annoying shit. But then again, he could be an annoying shit when he wanted to be. "Proud of you, man. Long road, but you're sticking with us."

"Yeah, yeah. Save the sappy shit, would you?" Bucky leaned his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. "The hike was nice. Though Y/N almost fell off the log when we were crossing the river. I caught him before he did, but if he hadn't been holding my hand, I would've let him fall."

"You told him about your issue with falling?" Sam straddled the bench and rested his forearms on his thighs. "Dude, it took you like eight months to tell me about that and he's been here four months."

"Don't take it personally, Wilson." Bucky shrugged with a smile. "He's just got that calming feel to him. He's easy to trust and he's just really nice."

"And you were tellin' me to quit with the sappy shit? Do you hear yourself?" Sam cracked a smile as well. "I like Y/N, too. He's a good fit for the team."

Bucky nodded, agreeing. There had been something missing in the team dynamic for a while that no one could quite name or place, but Y/N and his kid had certainly brought it. The game night had really shown some of Y/N's full personality away from his daughter, though Bucky liked having Angelica around a lot. She was bubbly and sweet and brought a little bit of light on his bad days.

But Y/N...Y/N was just so thoughtful and selfless. It was obvious when he'd walked into his office that Y/N had no idea how to help him and was taken aback, but he'd helped him anyway. He showed genuine interest in the story Bucky had been telling him and even invited him along to an outing. They hadn't exactly hung out outside of the team nights and work hours. It was nice and he liked the idea of getting to see Y/N more often out of that stuff.

"Wait, don't tell me...Barnes, do you have a crush on Y/N?" Sam asked with a cocky grin.

"What? No!" Bucky said far too quickly, his face starting to flush. He was lucky he was already a little red from training, but Sam knew otherwise. His grin widened.

"You totally do!"

Bucky went to defend himself again but he sighed and turned his head away while Sam started to snicker. "Fine. Maybe I do a little."

"Man, I didn't take you for one to like guys," Sam said.

"Is...that an issue?" Bucky asked warily, his heart starting to flutter in his chest. For most of his life, he'd shoved that part of him aside and hidden it. Sure, he fooled around with a couple of guys in the forties but it never went very far. And war made people do desperate things. But he was worried that even now, he'd have to keep that part of him tucked away and ignore it.

"Hell, no. My best friend in college was the most flamboyant gay guy I've ever met. Smart as a whip and a beautiful musician. I don't give a shit, but I don't wanna hear about all the details. And that goes for women, too. That stays private, man." Sam wrinkled his nose up and it made Bucky chuckle. "I don't know how it was back then, but people are a lot more accepting now than they were. They legalized same-sex marriage a few years back. And if anyone gives you shit about it, I'll kick their asses."

"Thanks, Sam. That means a lot." Bucky smiled. "But if you tell anyone that I have a thing for Y/N, I'll kick you off the helicarrier again."

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Taglist: @shadowolf993​ @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @booty-ass-hoe​ @fightmemacbeth​ @pastel-boy-sungjae​ @unsure-username​ @myybebe​ (it works!! ^-^)

[thesameasbe4]

One More Night in Siberia

*Bucky and first person reader.

I mumbled one more “thank you” in my terrible Russian as I closed the door on the intrusive host. Had I not been so tired and sore I would have realized that it was not strange of the owner of the Inn to be suspicious of two people banging on the door in the middle of a blizzard, with no vehicle, in Siberia. But I was too tired - so I just trudged into the room after Bucky and sank to the floor. After a few moments to gather my wits I began looked about the small space. There was an old iron coil heater in the corner on the far side of the room so I rose with a groan and went to examine it. After poking around I found the pilot light was out so I rifled through the bug out bad we had been sharing and pulled out a pack of matches. Soon the ancient coil was creaking and groaning but getting warmer.

Next I turned to Bucky. He had put on a brave face when negotiating for the room, but now he was white as a sheet and stared ahead blankly. “Hold on, Buck,” I murmured to him as I stripped him out of his freezing clothes. I could see fresh blood stains on his undershirt as I pulled that off too, swallowing hard. The bullet wound had not hit any vital organs, just grazed his lower left side, but we had been on the run for a week now and I was worried it was getting infected. There was no bathroom in the room so I slipped outside with our small cooking pot and collected some snow. Returning unnoticed by the innkeeper, I set the pot on the heater to melt.

It had been too long since either of us had had a warm shower and even a heated basin of water was better than anything we should expect. After cleaning his wound and a swallow of whiskey for each of us, Bucky was sitting up again, propped against a wall. I gently ran a bandanna soaked in the warm water over his torso and face. The room was quite toasty now, but Bucky was still shivering. I reached down to feel the leg of his pants and sighed, realizing they were also soaked through. Carefully, I undid them and slid them off his legs, spreading them flat on the ground to dry close to the heat. I then pulled the reindeer skins off the small bed in the corner of the room and tucked them around him, I hadn’t the energy to try to move him to the bed. He was closer to the heater this way.

It was just a few hours till the chopper would meet us here, but Buck didn’t look good. I suspected his wound was becoming infected, he wasn’t losing much blood anymore, so that wasn’t the reason for his pallid skin and he would going through waves of chills. He began to shake again and I could no longer see anything but a cold, sad boy. Coaxing his large frame to lean forward, I managed to slip behind him, straddling his shaking body with my legs. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Buck?” I murmured into his ear.

“Yea,” he groaned with much effort.

“I need you to stay awake for me, Bucky. Do you understand?”

“Mmh,” he groaned again, his flesh arm squeezing my ankle. I couldn’t help but lean into him further, while flinching internally as I thought of how we would explain this away when he had his wits about him again.

We passed the hours together by telling stories. I talked about the yellow plastic slide in my back yard growing up. How I had tried about a dozen times to spend a whole night in the tree house my father built but would always come inside when it got dark because I thought a raccoon would sit on my face in the middle of the night. Bucky smiled at that, his light laughter reverberating down his back. Bucky talked about growing up in the city, about the best rooftop view of New York and promised we would visit it together one day. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see them.

“Always the playboy aren’t you?” I teased light heartedly.

Bucky reached around and grabbed my free hand, pulling it to him and placing it on his bare chest. “No, you are too precious to be an object for a playboy,” he said cryptically. I shook it off as a symptom of his fever, though I left my hand where he placed it, kneading his clammy chest gently as he continued to talk, the deep vibrations of his voice making their way to my palm.

A while later, lights on the horizon flashed the signal to let us know it was our ride out of here. I helped Bucky dress and we stumbled out of the droopy little building into the vast white world. Two uniforms met us half way and I gratefully handed Bucky off to them.

…

Several days passed and Bucky and I were recovering well from the mission. I had thought I was going to lose a few toes to frost bite but managed to pull through with all my body parts still attached. Bucky’s infected wound was now on the mend. His side was still tender though he would never admit that.

I looked up from my book at a tap on my door. “Enter!” I said not looking up.

“Hey,” said a low voice from my door.

“What up,” I replied, trying not to seem excited to see him.

“Well, I ordered too much Chinese and you haven’t eaten yet,” he said.

“You have just said two statements, you now need to combine them into a cohesive question,” I said flatly. It had been a frustrating day.

“Okay, as a hungry person, do you think I should share my food with Steve or just eat it all myself?”

I threw a pen at him, which he caught gracefully in mid air. “It would have hit you in the forehead,” I mumbled.

Walking the rest of the way into my room, he placed a full plastic bag on my desk, the delicious smells of fried rice and dumplings seeping into the space. Then he moved to stand behind my desk chair, placing his warm hands on my shoulders. He began to knead the knots in my back. I closed my book and leaned into his touch, trying hard not to moan.

“You know I never properly thanked you for dragging my ass out of Siberia,” he said. I turned to look at him.

“You don’t have to, it’s what partners do,” I replied.

“I know, but you are an exceptional partner.” I waved a hand at him in dismissal but he caught it, and pulled me up to stand in front of him, so close we were almost touching. Then, he placed my hand on his chest again, just like he had done that night in Siberia. I looked up at his face and was startled by his glittering grey-blue eyes.

As if by a force outside of my control, I raised my hands to his face and pulled him down to meet my lips. I was sure he would pull away, make an awkward excuse and duck out, but that’s not what he did. No, he wound his hands around my hips, pulling me in tighter.

His lips were firm against mine, insistent as they explored my mouth, jaw and neck. His metal arm, a shock of cold on my lower back at first, was warming from contact with my heated skin. I was taken aback by his eagerness, surprised and I was more tentative to respond to him, my arm snaking up between us to grab a handful of his shirt. I pressed against his chest, coaxing him away from me gently, and despite the need I sensed in his tense muscles, he moved away just enough for me to shiver as the cool air of the room buffered against me in the places where I had adjusted to Bucky’s body heat. Bucky nuzzled my neck with his stubble questioningly.

“Hey now, the food is getting cold,” I laughed as he continued to cling to me even as I began to unpack the bag of food he had forgotten on my desk. “I’m gonna eat your egg roll if you don’t back off,” I threatened.

…

The lo mein sat heavy in my stomach as I reran our kiss from earlier in the day. I was still at my computer, but I hadn’t gotten anything done in the past hour. Sighing, I rose and headed for the shower. The steam and heat were divine, I never took luxuries like hot water for granted anymore since I had been in so many situations without such things. I stood there in the shower for much too long, till I was bright red and the water started to get cool again. Finally I switched it off and stepped out of the bathroom in a towel.

I was stepping into some comfy sweats as an old melody drifted into my room. I cocked my head and smiled. Bucky, the boy displaced by time, was playing his records from the 40’s again. Returning to my closet, I pulled out a simple, modest knee length black dress as I ran my hand thoughtfully through my drying hair. A few minutes later I caught the image of myself in the mirror as I pulled on a pair of pantyhose, no time for an elaborate hair do, but it was my best efforts at 1940s fashion on a time crunch. Tugging on a pair of matching heels, I clicked down the hall lightly towards the haunting sounds of the record. The door opened before I could knock, super soldier and all, it was hard to catch Bucky by surprise.

“Need a partner?” I asked as I raised my hands, offering to dance with him. He smiled broadly as his gaze swept down my figure and then back up to my face. Gently he stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, drawing me further into the room and kicking the door closed with his foot. We moved slowly together, inching closer and closer to one another like two magnets, the lazy jazz luring us into the fantasy of a crowded dance floor. Finally I laid my head on his shoulder. We didn’t say anything, we were partners. He knew what I needed and I knew what he was thinking.

[hale-13]

Hold Onto the Faith as I Dig Another Grave

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 6 - Buried Alive

He can’t do it.

There’s just no way he can do it.

He can feel the air thinning, his eyesight gets steadily darker, he can almost smell fresh tilled earth (a rarity in the middle of New York City) and this is it.

He’s going to die.

Words: 2031, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Absolutely none.

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

He can’t do it.

There’s just no way he can do it.

He can feel the air thinning, his eyesight gets steadily darker, he can almost smell fresh tilled earth (a rarity in the middle of New York City) and this is it.

He’s going to die.

“Could you be any more dramatic?” MJ asks from where she’s furiously typing into her laptop, he hair more frizzy than normal and her eyes pinched. Her usually unaffected demeanor is cracking a little at the edges and Peter has never seen her so frantic and disorganized – he feels a little bad about it.

“Seriously Peter,” Ned agrees from his section of the table where multi-colored index cards are scattered in a disorganized mess – he, too, looks on the verge of a breakdown but he’s not able to hide it as easily as Michelle – Ned always has worn his heart on his sleeve. “It’s your fault we waited until the last minute anyway,” his (now former – seriously Ned what the hell, how dare you) best friend accuses.

Peter just lets out a wounded animal noise as he edits his section of their PowerPoint, eyes nearly crossed he’s so close to the screen. Like that would help him edit any faster he thinks sardonically. “It’s not totally my fault,” he tried to rationalize.

“Yes it is,” MJ tells him bluntly, face buried in her over-highlighted notes on the vaccine apartheid in India and Africa for the comparative section of their presentation. “We could have been done weeks ago if you had actually come to the meetings we scheduled.”

“I came to the first one,” Peter protested, looking through his image folder for the proper photo for his slide – he had, at least, cropped and edited them all already so he had one less thing to do. “And besides, we divided the work up evenly – you didn’t even need me around to do your part.” He immediately flinched at the very clear ‘eat shit and die’ look Michelle gave him and murmured out a quick apology before ducking his head back into his work. Ned gave him a look of pity and a sad head shake, Peter just glared in response.

Ned bangs his head onto the table softly and moans. “Why do we always wait until the last minute? I hate waiting until the last minute.”

“Less whining, more writing,” Michelle says bluntly, adding a slide to the PowerPoint on their Google docs and making Peter groan. His job is to outline and find pictures, Michelle’s is to clean everything up and organize their presentation and Ned’s is to make sure that their presentation is cohesive and write out their speech. It’s a system that has, traditionally, worked well for them but this time may as well be a disaster. The only thing keeping them together at this point is MJ’s ruthless efficiency and Ned and Peter’s intense fear of failure.

“We were supposed to do this last week,” Ned continued, ignoring MJ’s order and then the kick she aimed as his shin; not even flinching at what was surely decent pain considering their friend had worn her Doc Marten’s to their meeting. “Why the hell did we let you cancel?”

“Because of that bank robbery remember?” Peter says, ignoring his own work for a second and risking MJ’s (well deserved not that he would admit it) wrath. “And then I got caught on patrol for a couple hours and then it was curfew.” He may have also been in the MedBay that night for a (minor) stab wound but he wasn’t telling them that – his friends worried enough about him as it was.

“Not that I necessarily support the police and the clear and rampant systemic racism of the entire system,” Michelle began, forcefully picking Ned’s head off the table and shoving a pen into his hands so he would continue working, “but that is their job. If we aren’t going to defund them the least they could do is handle a bank robbery.” This had been a frequent disagreement between the two of them for a while – MJ was one hundred percent correct in her viewpoint but Peter was a closet control freak who couldn’t leave well enough alone. They tried not to talk about it in polite conversation anymore.

“But there were hostages,” Peter whined, and there were. About twelve of them who all seemed more bored and annoyed than scared but that was the city for ya.

“And?” Michelle accused. “What do you think happened before you started running around in tights?”

“She has a point,” Ned said gently, organizing the index cards to be less chaotic.

Peter gave them both an irritated huff and muttered “They aren’t tights.”

“Spandex then,” Michelle said flippantly, waving her hand in his direction without looking up from her screen. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Well the next time we have a group project I’ll just send out a nice tweet asking all the criminals and muggers to put their crime on hold so I can do my homework,” Peter huffed sarcastically but without any real heat.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Ned said, sounding relieved and Peter rolled his eyes again but got back to work. He was only on slide thirteen of twenty-five and, at the rate MJ was adding pages, he’d never finish. They worked in silence for a while, only breaking it to ask murmured questions before, finally, MJ snapped her laptop shut.

“Well if its not done at this point its not ever going to be,” she stated causing Ned to drop his pen and massage his cramping hand and Peter to let his head fall to the table in relief with a moan – his head was starting to throb and the words on his computer were swimming in front of his eyes. “Let’s try to get to school early tomorrow to do a couple run throughs before the presentation.” Peter glanced at the clock on the library wall and groaned, receiving a conciliatory pat on the back from Ned – he still had a ton of homework to get through before he could even think about sleeping.

“Want a ride home?” Ned asked a few minutes later when they were standing on the steps in front of the library. MJ’s mom had already been waiting when they stepped outside leaving just Ned and Peter to wait on Ned’s older sister.

“Nah,” Peter said, adjusting his too heavy backpack and rocking back on his heels. “Think I might swing home, just a quick patrol you know?”

The look Ned gave him was skeptical and disapproving but Peter chose to ignore it. He wouldn’t be out long anyway – just a quick run through the areas he knew were a problem and then home. Faster than the subway for sure. “Fine,” Ned grunted, thankfully holding in his opinion. “But you should go ahead and go before my sister gets here and insists on driving you,” Ned indicated to his tracking app, showing his sister only a few minutes away.

“Thanks man,” Peter said, initiating their handshake and trotting off around the corner to find a suitable alley to change in.

—————————————————

Three hours later, Peter fell through the window of his bedroom, collapsing on the floor and pulling his mask off. His hair was limp and sweaty where it clung to his head and his headache from earlier had gotten worse – the throbbing elevating up to a stabbing behind his eyes.

“One minute,” he told himself, panting and draping his elbow over his eyes. “You can have one minute and then you have work to do.”

“Talking to yourself?”

Peter jumped up, banging his head on the side of his bed with a wince, causing his vision to grey out a little and falling back on the floor to stare dazedly at the ceiling. Tony leaned over him to block his view, his expression mixed between humor and pity as Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Thought you had a tingle?” Tony teased, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him up to sit propped against the wall, ignoring the glare Peter shot him. “You’re lucky May’s working tonight.”

“Yeah I know,” Peter admitted. He was over two hours late for his midnight curfew and, if May had been home and not working in the ER, she would have skinned him alive and then grounded him for the foreseeable future.

“You’re even more lucky I covered for your scrawny spider ass and told her you were staying at the Tower tonight,” Tony said smugly, gesturing to the overnight bag that he had clearly packed for Peter. “Go ahead and change, you can shower once we get back to the Penthouse. You got everything you need for school?”

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, stripping off the suit and pulling on an old pair of sweats and the t-shirt he had worn to school earlier. Changed and stumbling, he followed his mentor down to the town car that was waiting in front of the door to his apartment, crawling into the back seat and resting his aching head against the window; ignoring Happy’s tired look of disapproval in the rear view mirror.

“So,” Tony began, sitting across from him to make better eye contact. “Want to tell me why you’re out so late?”

“Well I was at the library with Ned and MJ working on a project for biology until about eleven-,”

“Why so late?” Tony interrupted, brows furrowed in thought. Peter bit his lip and averted his eyes and Tony nodded in understanding. “So you procrastinated until the last minute.”

“Maybe,” Peter conceded, eyes darting over to his bag and lingering for a second. Tony clocked the movement and let out a long suffering sigh, massaging his eyes with the thumb and forefinger on his right hand and grimacing .

“How much more do you have?”

“Uh…,” Peter squeaked out. “Just… just two problem sets in physics, one in calculus and five chapters of Jane Eyre to read.” Easily three to four hours of work and Peter was starting to feel buried and suffocated under the course load, his muscles started to tremble at the impending exhaustion he would be feeling the next day on little to no sleep.

Tony gave him a look of commiseration before asking “And when is all of this due?”

“The presentation is my last period of the day, right after lunch,” Peter answered. “Everything else is due in the morning.” Tony studied him for a moment before sighing.

“Here’s the offer: you go back to the Penthouse, take a shower and go to bed,” he held up a hand to halt Peter’s protest, “and I’ll tell May you have, what I assume to be, the start of a migraine,” Peter’s hand reached up subconsciously to rub his temple under his mentor’s knowing look. “She can call you out of school and I’ll take you at lunch so you don’t miss your presentation then you have all weekend to stick your nose in a book while I do some suit modifications. Square deal?”

Peter let out a sigh of relief and melted into the soft leather, nodding. “Deal.”

The rest of the ride was silent and Peter dozed until he was urged out of the car and into the elevator. Once they reached the Penthouse, Tony relieved him of his book bag and passed over the duffle he had packed, Peter not even bothering to put up a token protest as he was shoo’ed in the direction of his room. He pulled out his phone to text his group chat with Ned and MJ and saw that he already had a message waiting.

About thirty minutes before, MJ had sent a screenshot of the SpideyWatch twitter page that had a clear picture of him stopping a mugging just before he got home. The text under it said ‘see you at lunch for a practice run’ and Peter smiled a little, chest warm, as he sent the thumbs up emoji and tossed his phone onto his bed; he was looking forward to a scalding shower and eight hours of uninterrupted blissful sleep.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Only Mine Pt. 5

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SWEET MESSAGES ABOUT THIS SERIES! It’s honestly so fun to write about so I’m glad all of you like it as much as I do. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Pop Star!Reader Word count: 2,337 Warnings: Some swearing, mentions of anxiety and stress

You were humming an idea you had, your phone sitting out and playing one of the hundreds recordings you had for songs. Sweatpants and a large hoodie with fuzzy socks were the only appropriate attire for the recording studio, your hair carelessly held up by a scrunchie in a bun on the top of your head, glasses slightly crooked on your face.

“You get it, right?” You asked from the couch, where your legs were propped up against your chest.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.” Ray smiled, turning back to the computer and putting in a few various sounds.

“I’m thinking of putting in these ‘Oh’ sounds over and over, as background, pre-verse and then in the chorus.” You included.

“That would be cool.” Gerard laid back in the chair in between you and Ray, “Make them lower though, they’ll contrast your voice.” You nodded, agreeing.

“I want to make it sound frantic, almost anxious, right? That’s kind of the feeling of the song.” “Well, yeah, that makes sense with the meaning and lyrics.” Ray added on and you nodded. “I think it sounds sick.” “Thanks man.” You smiled lightly, “I have like 20 of these. Not the same song, but for the new album.” “Already?” He asked, shocked.

“Don’t underestimate her,” Gerard looked over at him, arms crossed and slouching back, “Give her five minutes and she’ll have an entire fucking song conducted.” You nodded.

“Maybe not five, but something along those lines.”

“Have you made a title for the record?” Ray asked next and you shook your head.

“I have most of it composed, I don’t have a title though.” You said, “It’s a concept album, so as you guys know, it’s written like a book. But there’s this whole plot and everything. So it’s not like I can name it after someone or something, like I did with the last one, I have to find something.” “What about a song name?” Gerard looked up at you, “Name it after a song, maybe. One that you feel embodies the record as a whole.” “I don’t know,” You sighed out of partial frustration, “I’m not good at naming albums. I almost named the last one Gerard, but Ray told me no.” You could hear Ray lightly snicker remembering that.

“Really?” Gerard asked, a look of slight shock on his face.

“What?” You asked, “You act like you don’t know that entire record is about you.” He shrugged.

“It still flatters me.” “Well this one is kinda about you,” You admitted, “More about the picture the media has painted us out to be.” “You mean bad boy makes innocent girl bad?” He asked and you nodded.

“It’s almost set out as a character v. self, character v. character, and character v. society album.” You explained, “She’s frustrated with herself because she knows he’s bad but she loves him, she’s mad at him because he’s that way but she also loves him for it, and she’s mad at everyone who’s telling her he’s bad, because she knows it, but she can’t help it.” “So like an addiction?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“That’s why Clean is on there. It’s the last track, it’s her almost cleansing herself from everything.” “That makes sense.” Gerard nodded.

“I mean, I think it’s brilliant.” Ray began playing with a few more sounds while talking, “I hope people take it as it is, AKA it’s very ironic, but addressing that by making an entire record is pretty bad ass.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks,” You smiled, “Maybe Gerard is making me corrupt, making me a badass and all.” You winked playfully at him.

“Ah yes, I’m going to make you my emo queen.” The three of you began laughing.

“I am thinking about changing my look to take on this alter ego,” You began, “You cut off all your hair and bleached it to be a representation of The Patient.” You looked to Gerard, “I don’t think I would do anything to my hair, but I would change up my wardrobe and makeup look.” “Like start off as you are and gradually get more rebellious looking?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“The paparazzi will love that.” You lightly smiled sarcastically, a few moments of silence at the end. “Thank you guys, by the way, for taking time off to help me make this.” “No problem,” Ray smiled and nodded, “Besides, everyone loves you and we’ve been having some writing block lately.” “And I didn’t have a choice.” Gerard said. You eyed him, throwing a pen which hit his head and he very lightly flinched at the impact.

“Oh stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ready to go in?” Ray asked, motioning to the recording booth. You nodded getting up and grabbing a pair of headphones. You put them on, beginning to do some short vocal warm ups. Ray was sitting right outside through the glass window at the panel, Gerard leaning over and playing with a few things on the sound board.

“Ready?” Ray asked into the mic and you nodded, pulling out notes on your phone to read lyrics.

“We’re just doing verse and chorus, right? No belts or high notes or anything?” He shook his head.

“That’ll be next.” He responded and you nodded. The music started up, giving you a few seconds to prepare before you began singing the lyrics, both Gerard and Ray actively adjusting various switches and such. Finally, when the song wrapped up, you took a few steps back from the mic as they stopped the recording.

“How was that?” You asked.

“Incredible as always.” Ray smiled and you smiled back, “Now we have to work on high notes and belting for the bridge and final chorus, then we can do background vocals.” You nodded, “Let me just edit a bit of the track.” It only took him a matter of minutes before replaying the track, a huge smile plastered on your face the entire time.

“It’s sick!” You smiled and clapped, jumping a bit.

“It’s honestly incredible.” Gerard smiled too.

“Thank you.” You smiled back.

“Ready for everything else?” Ray asked and you nodded.

It took you another hour of recording and getting everything before you could finally retire the recording and production process for the song, getting out of the booth and grabbing a water.

The finished product was incredible, it had the perfect amount of everything from base to drums with a little bit of synth and a light echo attached to your voice.

“Do you think this new record’s gonna be as big as the last?” Ray asked you, all three of you now on various pieces of furniture in the studio and eating burritos, which had been jointly decided upon pretty quickly when you all grew hungry. “Mmm,” You hummed, thinking for a minute, “I don’t know. Probably not considering winning 10 Grammys in one night is a record,” “On top of the, like 40 other awards you got.” Ray laughed.

“Yeah, true,” You agreed, “But I don’t make music to win awards or anything. I make music because I want to and because I love to and other people like it.” You explained, “You guys are the same.” They nodded. “The awards are just something nice.”

“I mean, you’re basically on top of the world.” Ray responded.

“Yeah, but that’s what makes it all the more scary,” You began, “You kind of look down from your stance at the top, having everything you’ve ever dreamed of in your career, and you have to ask what do you do next. And then it turns in to panic because there’s no where to go. And that’s why Gerard is up with me every other night while I’m having a panic attack about what the fuck I do next.”

“I don’t think I’m much help.” He added.

“You’re more help than if I was alone.” You responded, “But I’m kind of excited for this new era. There’s no limits anymore, I feel like, so I’ll just take on this good girl gone bad character. Not in real life, of course, but my alter ego.” “So you’re gonna reset everything?” Ray asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, hopefully. Starting with my closet.” You took a bite of your food, “Gee, take me to Hot Topic.” He rolled his eyes.

“If you want to do that, then just take all my leather jackets.” “You have too many anyways.” “Do not,” He warned, “I take pride in my jacket collection.” This time you rolled your eyes. “You have an entire rack in your closet for jackets.” “Uh huh, says Miss ‘I have to have an entire room for my purse and shoe collection’.” “Oh, please, it’s part of my personality.” “Well jackets are apart of mine.” He fired back.

“You two are literally an old couple.” Ray interrupted.

“Kinda.” You agreed.

“But for real,” Ray asked next, “What is going on in the world of Y/F/N Y/L/N?” You sighed.

“For once it feels like nothing,” You admitted, “No brand deals really, almost no interviews, no tour because that finished up, just this I guess.” You took another bite and continued, “I did recently get the opportunity for there to be a documentary on me and my life though. Like a camera crew and everyone follow me around for a few critical weeks of the year, put it into a whole movie type thing about how I live, my fame, all that.” “Wait, what?” Gerard asked, now a mixture of shock and concern on his face. “You-you never told me.” He said next.

“Well, yeah, I mean I told them I would at least have to think about it. I was planning on telling you but I needed to figure out if I wanted to go through with it first. I was very indecisive about it. Still am.” “So what are you thinking?” Ray asked, clearly trying to break some of the tension.

“I still don’t know,” You admitted, “I mean, a part of me really wants people to understand why I’m so under the radar, why I’ve disappeared from the world for a while. But the other part wants to protect that privacy. Plus if we were to theoretically go through with this, Gee, you would have to be okay with it too since they’ll be filming in our homes, and very possibly me and you.” He nodded, “And plus, I don’t know if it’s the right timing. I’m starting this new era of me being private and taking on this alter ego for everyone else, it may just be bad timing too.”

“I think it would be interesting for people to be able to see you, like the real you. And how you deal with the fame and all.” Ray added.

“Yeah, but,” You took a brief pause to find words, “How much of my privacy am I willing to forfeit for that?”

You and Gerard got back to your New York townhouse, kicking off your shoes and almost immediately crashing on the bed. You had to admit, at least to yourself, that your mind was beyond conflicted with what to do. Your next album release would have been perfect timing to plan starting a family with Gerard. Release the album, stay completely under the radar, and go on a small tour with a few big shows. But the opportunity for the documentary to be made would make a huge deal to your life. It would be nearly impossible to do both at the same time, though.

You laid down, your head on Gerard’s shoulder, as you both laid in bed reading your books trying to wind down. But Gerard, being your husband, best friend, and soulmate, knew you were stressed. Just from even looking at you, although no one else could tell, he could.

“Talk to me.” He said softly, barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to disrupt your reading,” You sighed, “Or annoy you.” “I like listening to you talk.” He glanced to you, your eyes meeting. You didn’t know how a man could be that gorgeous, he just was. “It’s soothing, even when you rant.” You lightly laughed, snuggling further into him. He willingly took one of his arms, swinging it behind you and placing his book down on his nightstand, marking the page. 

“Fine,” You sighed, moving down so your head was on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every delicate breath he absentmindedly took. Your hands found their way there too, drawing circles on the shirt he had on.

So there the two of you laid, you pouring our your anxiety and worries to your husband, who seemed to understand what you were saying, translating every jumble of emotion you had into a symphony of calmness. 

“This is all up to you babe, I’m just along for the ride.” He said, “But maybe this is a sign, ya know? Maybe you should take this opportunity to have a documentary be made about you, because maybe people will begin to actually understand the extent to which your life has been thrown into the spotlight, and why you need that privacy. And maybe that sympathy will get us to an even better place where we can start a family, worry free from any chance that our child or children will be in the spotlight.” “You’re so smart.” You lightly laughed, nuzzling into him. “I’ll think about it, Gee.” And like that a lightbulb went off in your head. You squeezed out of his embrace, groaning and getting up out of bed, his face filled with confusion. “Where’re you going? Did I say something wrong? I-” “No, it’s a song idea.” You palmed your face in your hand, “Like a really good one.” You grabbed your phone to go record it. “You get it, right?” “Not really because I don’t record as many songs as you, but kinda.” You groaned again, his face so innocent as you eyed him.

“You’re an ass.” 

[revchainsaw]

Ninja Assassin (2009)

I love the idea of applying horror movie logic to other kinds of things. We've had our fill of vampires and werewolves, don't get me started on zombies, but we fail to often imagine ourselves in the worlds of other genres, and comprehend just how frightening some things they present may be. In a world where highly trained killers can come out of any shadow and slaughter you without mercy, why should we limit that kind of play to only a martial arts film. Though many may disagree with the dear reverend here, I think Ninja Assassin is what happens when you apply horror movie rules to a martial arts film, and that's pretty neat! but does it do this well. Let's take a look.

The Message

Ninja Assassin is a 2009 action film that stars Korean pop star Rain as Raizo, a renegade ninja on the lamb from his vengeful and supernaturally deadly clan, the Ozunu. The Ozunu are also the target of a sharp and fearless interpol agent named Mika; as she is about to break the lid on an investigation regarding several unexplained high profile assassinations across the world. Through the events of the film the Ozunu ninja clan are agitated and become increasingly active. This over the top ninja action eventually brings Raizo and Mika together.

Mika and Raizo decide to combine her resources with his insider knowledge of the group to bring down the Ozunu clan once and for all. In a bad ass bloody spectacle all of the Interpol forces that Mika can muster are brought down by the ninja clan, and Raizo and Mika are brought face to face with Raizo's old mentor and father figure Lord Ozunu.

These events may seem rushed but actually the film intersperses them with flashbacks about the tortures and discipline Raizo went through as a ninja child growing up in this clan and being shaped into these insanely effective killing machines we have witnessed throughout the film. It also reveals how his spirit was never completely broken and bent to the will of the tribe, and his eventual rejection and escape from them.

Raizo does exact his revenge on the leader of the clan in the climactic battle, but in the melee Mika is supposedly fatally wounded. She is however spared due to a freakish medical condition that is foreshadowed earlier in the film: her heart is on the wrong side.

The Benediction

Best Sequence: They Fucked Up!

Without a doubt the scene that everyone thinks of when they think of Ninja Assassin is the sequence where Interpol attempts to commit a military style raid on the ninja clan and in turn they get absolutely fucking slaughtered. It's a pretty long sequence but you don't even really need to see the rest of the film to enjoy it. Just google Ninja Assassin Raid Scene and I'm sure you'll have a pretty good time just watching these Fed's getting fed their own asses. It's probably some of the best ninja action ever put to film.

Best Kill: Uneven Load

Somebody attempts to carry out an assassination attempt on our hero Raizo in a laundromat. Their head is later discovered when a thumping dryer starts to bleed. The dryer door is opened a a bloody head just tumbles out. It's pretty darn hilarious.

Worst Concept: Anatomy! My Only Weakness!

The heart on the right hand side thing is pretty stupid. For one thing the heart is slightly more on one side of your body but a direct shot to the chest is still pretty likely to kill you. It's a real condition called Dextrocardia but it was used as kind of a Deus ex Machina in this film, and the film makers seemed pretty proud of themselves for "foreshadowing" it in an earlier scene, and I use foreshadow very loosely.

Best Aspect: We Don't Think You're Dumb

Ninja Assassin attempts to do the Grindhouse thing that was very popular around this time, by taking a concept like Ninja Action Movie and playing up the gore and the extreme nature of the action as far as they can. I have to give the film makers props for playing the plot straight too, the bonkers grindhouse action of a movie can only be winked at so many times before it just becomes too stupid to care about. The characters can totally play the story straight and the audience doesn't need them to plant their tongues firmly in their cheeks for us to get that it's supposed to be absurd. So very good job Ninja Assassin.

Worst Effect: Look at all this ... Blood?

However, the movie would have benefitted greatly from an exorbitant amount of fake blood. buy gallons of the shit, throw it everywhere!!! please! I know it was cheaper to do the CGI blood but it looks bad and is way less fun, I want the practical effects version of this movie. I want actors slipping in the shit.

Best Effect: Shadowy Figure

A combination of CG and Camera Tricks was used frequently when our villains appeared on screen. The ninjas in this film had a power to jump in and out of shadows, to almost teleport using darkness, to watch the silhouettes of the assassins materialize from every dark corner and narrowly cast shadow was a pretty freaking sweet and unique little touch that added a lot to the menace the ninja clan represented.

Best Concept: Their Ninja Way!

As mentioned earlier the Ninja in Ninja Assassin are a lot less like a group of martial artists, or poor farmers rebelling against samurai warlords like in history. These Ninja are the way you thought about them when you were 7 years old. They are almost a category of mythical being, like a vampire or a Pegasus. They have their own distinct look, powers, and rules. I really wish we had gotten a sequel or a spin off of this. The way Ninja operate in this film is so damn American, and so damn fantastic. It's utterly absurd but that's just what the doctor ordered in a dumbed down action flick. I want to see more of these kinds of Ninja.

Summary

Ninja Assassin is a movie that sadly, you will not hear many people bring up. Everyone was talking about it for like a week after it came out and then it disappeared. That's not terribly hard to understand. Raizo is not a particularly distinct character, and in a world where Anime is so readily available to give audiences this kind of over the top ninja action, this hour or so long film really doesn't stand out. I sincerely believe if it had relied more on solid landing action choreography and practical effects for it's violence it would have had more of an impact on audiences. But it's as fleeting and material as a spray of computer generated blood, and that's a shame. I think we should petition to get Raizo put into the Mortal Kombat games, because that is exactly where he belongs. I predict that cult film status will eventually find it's way to this movie, once the kids who saw this when they were far to young, finally start making movies.

Overall Grade: C

[mon-dayragingslut4monstaxday6]

Skyping Jooheon (smut)

So funny story, I found this on an old save file titled “saucy moments”. I guess I wrote this back in September, before I even made this blog! If you want to see the early stages of me writing fics of my bias, feel free to read!

Word count: ~700

Warning: Masturbation, dirty talk

I prop my computer on my nightstand so he could get a nice wide shot of me. I play with the string of my robe when I press the video chat button on my Skype. It only rings twice before he answers, per usual, he’s always great at that. He’s also in bed, lounging like a sweetheart.

“Annyong”, I attempt my Korean.

“Oh baby, I love it when you speak Korean”, he praises. He knows I’m still a beginner, but the praise still makes me blush.

“I’m still learning, but I’m glad I still make a good impression”, I wink.

“And you’re wearing my favorite robe”, he exhales deeply. I pull down one of the sleeves to reveal some shoulder and chest, to prove I’m not wearing anything underneath.

“I am”, I flirtatiously assure.

“Fuck, the things I would do if I was there”, he whispers a groan. I adjust my position, to laying on my stomach to expose some more cleavage and have my ass in the background. I move some of the robe to show some cheek.

“Tell me about it, stud”, I whisper in pure ecstasy. He devilishly raises an eyebrow. He puts his phone down on the bed to go lock the bedroom door.

“You want me to tell you what I would do?”, Jooheon smirks.

“Please, Jooheon”, I tease before I bite my lip. I hear him slip his pants off. The sound of him touching himself is soft.

“First, I would take off that robe”, he pants.

“I ask you to tie my hands with the string”, I add. He closes his eyes and smile. He does love it when I touch him, but he also loves seeing me squirm for more when I’m constrained.

“I tie your hands with the string. Every time you touch me, I spank you”, he puffs. I seductively giggle. I grab my bullet vibrator from my nightstand.

“Open your eyes”, I whisper. He opens his eyes to me sitting on my bed, back facing him, stripping off the robe. He chokes on his words. When I slap my own ass, he jolts in ecstasy. I get into a comfortable position to play with my vibrator and so he can vividly see my face.

“Verona”, he whimpers. “Jooheon”, I slightly moan. He knocks his head back. I turn on the vibrator and have it work its magic. His rhythm goes faster.

“What else would you do?”, I continue to entice him.

“I position you to be on all fours”, he continues his panting, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Doggy style, huh? Are you going to cum on my back?”, I tease. I turn the vibrator up another setting. The vibrations can’t compare to the natural vibrations Jooheon does to me. I rub my spot to give me another push.

“That’s just the first position, baby. When you’re about to cum, I will flip you on your back, take your legs to sit on my shoulders and pound till you scream”, he describes. I mimic the exact scream he refers to. He loves my screaming. The vibrator goes two settings higher, the peak.

“I try to touch you and when I do, you spank me and bite my leg”, I moan.

“I rub your clit to make you moan”, he adds. My leg twitches just from hearing him. I bite my lip to hide my scream.

“Don’t hide it, baby, let me hear you”, he grunts. That sent me over the edge.

“Oh God”, I scream to my orgasm.

“I pull you down so I can ride you till you cum”, I growl. He raises his eyebrow from intrigue.

“Look at me before you cum, baby”, I command. He opens his eyes to see me giving him my big puppy dog eyes.

“Will you cum for me?”, I ask innocently. I never said it that way before and it drove him wild. His last moan before cumming was a noise I never heard from him before, it was like a deep moan straight from the gut, his voice almost cracked.

“Did you cum inside me?”, I pant to catch my breath.

“I fucking did”, he smiles. We catch our breath for a minute and to compose ourselves.

“We need to do that when we see each other next”, I request.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Black Lives Matter, @aspiringmehood  donated $25, and requested ‘Sam/Dean, late seasons, dealing with Stanford.’ Thank you for donating!

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Dean’s cooking--kind of, in that he’s stirring boxed pancake mix with some water--and Sam’s on the phone.

“No, I think that sounds great,” he’s saying. “Seems like the essay matters a lot depending on the school you’re hoping to get into, but your test scores and grades are obviously big, too. How did you do on the SAT?”

This isn’t a conversation that they’re on speakerphone for--Sam’s easy at the kitchen table, the phone to his ear and his laptop open in front of him, and when Dean turns around with the bowl of mix he looks at Sam’s shoulders, turned away, and chews the inside of his cheek, and puts butter on the griddle.

“Definitely,” Sam says, to something Dean can’t hear. He laughs, quietly. “I think Jody could probably do as well as I could, but let me know if you need more help. Sure thing.”

He hangs up, shakes his head. Dean pours a neat circle of batter onto the griddle, listens to the hiss. “How’s Alex?” he says.

“Applying to schools,” says Sam. Like that wasn’t obvious. He glances at Dean over his shoulder with a small smile, turns back to his laptop. “Jody made her call me because she was convinced she couldn’t get in anywhere with a sketchy school record. Think I proved her wrong.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, and looks down at the pancakes. Bubbles starting and soon it’ll be time to flip. “She’s smart.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, absently, and closes his computer, stands up. “Those’ll be done soon, huh?” he says, and at Dean’s nod he says, “Cool, I’ll be right back--just want to get something sent over to Alex before we eat,” and he’s gone, then, and Dean’s standing in the kitchen by himself, looking at pancakes, with no idea why his stomach feels as knotted up as it does. Except he does know, really. He flips the pancakes. It’s not worth thinking about.

It eats at him anyway. All day. Sam’s researching something-or-other to do with the Darkness, and Cas isn’t answering calls, and Dean--doesn’t have anything to do. He about drove himself into the ground, trying to come up with something, and Sam practically sat on him and told him he had to take some time away from it. They still don’t know what’s going on there, and going insane about it isn’t helping, and so he’s trying. He changes the oil in the Impala; he cleans the kitchen. He goes down to the shooting range and cores neat holes through the faceless targets and wants--a rot-eaten fence at the edge of the woods, and shooting up Coke bottles, and the sun beating down.

He takes a shower and when he goes to bed, Sam’s on the chair in his room, typing at something on his knees. “What are you doing?” Dean says, and Sam glances up at him, smiles at him in his pajama pants, but says, “Editing,” and when Dean frowns he clarifies: “Alex’s college essay. Apparently it’s too embarrassing to show Jody.” His eyes drop back to the computer screen and he shakes his head. “She’s got an interesting relationship with apostrophes.”

Dean doesn’t have anything to say to that. He didn’t know apostrophes were something you could have a relationship with of any kind. “You going to be done with English class in my bedroom any time soon?” he says instead, and Sam glances at him, shakes his head again.

“Yeah--sorry, just didn’t want to wait on it,” he says, and clicks something, and closes the laptop, dumps it on Dean’s dresser. He’s in pajamas too, that touchable washed-to-death shirt and the flannel pants Dean got him when his last pair got accidentally eaten by the dryer--Dean still maintains that that one wasn’t his fault--and when he climbs into bed he’s just--warm, and soft to the touch, and he settles like it’s natural against Dean’s back. Maybe it is natural for them, anymore. Ever since he got the mark off his arm they haven’t really bothered, with separate beds, and it’s--good. Better than Dean thought it’d be. He settles his head more comfortably on the pillow and Sam kisses the back of his neck, just--soft, not going anywhere with it, but it makes Dean’s gut tighten up anyway. Sappy bitch, he thinks, fondly, and then Sam sighs, slips his arm around Dean’s waist.

“She’s so excited, man,” he says. Dean opens his eyes, looks into the darkness on the opposite wall. “It’s kinda cool, you know? She had this screwed up life and now she gets to get out of it--make something of herself.”

“Lucky,” Dean says.

Sam huffs, obviously smiling. “Her version of this will be a little easier, though,” he says, “since she actually has--you know--a mailbox. No weird forwarding addresses and hoping she doesn’t miss an envelope. Seriously, lucky.”

Dean turns his face more into his pillow, doesn’t answer. It’ll be easier for her, too, he thinks, without having to hide every part of it from her family--for her not to have to pretend it’s not happening--and when she leaves--

He closes his eyes, feels Sam’s bulk all up against his back. He’s here. Here, and he swore he’d always be, and Dean has to believe that. If he doesn’t, then what’s the point?

Apparently it’s application season. Sam calls Alex again the next day, talks her through some of the things he suggests she might change in her essay. She doesn’t have her sights set on the stars--no Stanford or Harvard or MIT for her--but she’s still nervous, wants to get it right. Sam snorts, when he gets off the phone, says, “Claire says she hopes they’ve got hairdressing electives at Minnesota,” and Dean thinks, jesus, Claire. He shoves back, away from the table, and when Sam gives him a startled look he says, “Forgot, I was going to go to the store,” and it’s a shitty lie but it’s the only thing he can come up with in that second--imagining Claire and Jody, alone in the house, and how it feels when three people turns into two--and then because he’s said it he grabs his coat and gets into the car and drives into town, and he knows he’s being an absolute dumbass but it comes like this, sometimes, and he can’t help it.

He’s nearly calmed down, by the time he gets back. “Got beer,” he announces, which he did, and even crap for a salad for Sam, and stuff for burgers, and Sam helps him carry it into the kitchen and helps put it away, and then he grabs Dean by a jeans-pocket and traps him against the island with his hands on the counter either side of Dean’s hips, and he looks down at him square, and he says, “Why are you being weird?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Pot-kettle, Sammy,” he says, and pushes at Sam’s stomach.

Sam doesn’t budge, though, and Dean looks away. “Dude, like I don’t know you,” Sam says. He resettles his hands on Dean’s waist, squeezes soft. “Is it--are you having dreams, again? About the Darkness?”

He is, but that’s not new. He could lie and say it was that. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, because he is--he really is, no matter how much of a spaz he’s being.

Sam doesn’t let him go, though, and Dean knows he’s frowning. “Then...” he starts, and seems to--get it, somehow, from Dean’s brainwaves or something, because he sighs and it sounds disappointed. “The college thing.”

“It’s no big deal,” Dean says, or tries to, because before he can really get the last word out Sam’s cupped his face in both hands and pulled him straight and is kissing him--shallow, precise like Sam can be sometimes--good enough that Dean grabs Sam’s hips, opens up to it, tilts. Sam’s mouth, taste of bitter coffee. Perfect.

When Sam pulls back it’s by a few inches, and when Dean opens his eyes Sam’s smiling at him, but it’s kind of--sad, or compassionate, or pitying maybe. Hard to tell. “You’re a bad liar,” Sam says.

True, lately. Still. “You’re a bad liar,” Dean retorts, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Come here,” Sam says, and Dean doesn’t want to, but Sam tugs at his wrist and Dean follows him--out of the kitchen, into the hall, and then into Sam’s room, where Sam kicks off his boots and sits on the bed, and when he holds out his hand Dean takes it, and is drawn up to... sit in Sam’s lap, his knees spread around Sam’s hips.

Not a position he usually takes, at least when they’re dressed. He raises his eyebrows and Sam shrugs. “Trying some positive reinforcement,” he says, which doesn’t make any damn sense. The way he’s propped up against the headboard, Dean’s looking down at him, for once. Sam’s mouth lifts at one corner, his eyes all over Dean’s face. “Talk.”

“This is dumb,” Dean says.

“I agree,” Sam says, but he squeezes Dean’s hips, soft. “But something’s bugging you. The college thing? It’s just a kid going to college, man.”

Dean licks his lips. “I know,” he says, and he does. “Alex is smart to get your advice. You’re the expert.” He meant it to be light but it comes out--bitter, and Sam frowns. Fuck. Dean shakes his head. With how they’ve been he doesn’t want to be an asshole--they’ve been trusting each other, open, and he didn’t mean to screw it up. “I don’t mean--Sammy. It’s cool, it makes sense. I mean, you’re probably the only person who knows what she went through who also knows what they’re doing, with this kind of stuff. You’re doing a good thing.”

Sam looks up at him, eyes steady. “I know,” he says, after a minute. “But it’s got you thinking about--back then. When I left. Dean, that was--god, fifteen years ago or something.”

“I know,” Dean repeats, raw, and goes to push off Sam’s lap but Sam doesn’t let him. “Dude, give it up with the manhandling routine.”

“No,” Sam says, sitting up. He loops his arms around Dean’s waist and kinda smiles, in that Sammy way where it doesn’t so much look like a smile at all. “C’mon, man. You--seriously, do you still think about that?”

That night, in front of that busted-ass old house. Everything he’d been clinging to crashing down around his ears. Maybe not the worst night of his life anymore, but it’s still ranked. “It’s dumb,” he says, which he realizes a little too late is more revealing than maybe he wanted it to be, with how Sam’s face changes. “Sam, it’s no big deal.”

“You keep saying that,” Sam says, quiet, and one of his cheeks sucks in, like he’s gnawing at it. He keeps holding on, like Dean’s a flight risk or something, and it’s--nice, sort of. Close like this, outside of just sleeping or screwing. Sam takes a breath and Dean feels the way his chest expands. “It’s one of the best things I ever did. Going to school.”

Dean looks up at the ceiling, the slow-spinning fan.

“I got to just--live,” Sam continues. “Exploring the world, and figuring out what I liked. Meeting people who weren’t hunters and learning stuff that wasn’t just how to kill things. I mean, obviously I know now it wasn’t going to go anywhere--I was never going to be allowed to be a lawyer, or live a normal life like I thought I wanted, but. I still wouldn’t change it.”

Dean swallows, and tries to muster up how to be a man. “I get it,” he says, and--he does. This he knows how to be honest about. When he looks back down Sam’s still watching him, total focus, and he tries a smile. “You needed to get away. Grow up a little. Anyway, you and Dad were probably gonna shoot each other if you’d been cooped up together any longer.”

Sam snorts, leans back a little with his hands still locked at the small of Dean’s back. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “So--it was important. But I don’t think I got until--way later. How much it screwed us up. That it screwed you up. That--I wish I could go back, sometimes. Fix that.”

Still watching. Sam’s whole laser-attention thing is annoying as hell, sometimes. “It was a long time ago,” he says, shrugging.

“Right,” Sam says, ironic. “That’s why you always think I’m gonna bolt the second there’s a pretty girl in a nice town, or there’s an ad for a college on TV.” Dean’s jaw clenches hard enough that his teeth kinda hurt and Sam shakes his head, but he slides his hands up Dean’s back, too, a long stroke, and lifts up to kiss the underside of his jaw, tender. “You know,” he whispers, “I’m taking an online class right now.”

Dean blinks. “What?”

“History of the Meiji Era in Japan,” Sam says. When he meets Dean’s eyes again he’s still smiling. “Undergrad elective through Michigan State. Really interesting stuff.”

“You never told me that,” Dean says. He shifts, in Sam’s lap, and does put a few more inches between them.

Sam sighs. “I know. Maybe--I don’t know. Didn’t want you to freak out. Can’t imagine why I thought that might happen.” Dean nearly shoves at his shoulder, then, and Sam catches his arm, reels him back in. “Sorry,” he says, and he actually does look kinda sorry. “I just don’t know how to convince you, man. You’re it, for me. No matter what kind of crap happens, or--whatever, how many planets fall down on our heads. It’s you and me, no matter what. A college class isn’t going to change that.”

“I know,” Dean says, and when Sam’s eyebrows crease uncertainly he shakes his head. “Dude. I really do. It’s--the same for me. You know that, right?”

“Come whatever,” Sam says, softly, and Dean dips his head then and kisses Sam first, gentle because--because they can afford that, now. With the promises they’ve made, and what those promises meant.

When he pulls back Sam looks gratifyingly pink, in the hollows of his cheeks, and Dean shrugs one shoulder. “I’m just screwed up, Sammy,” he says. “When it comes to you. Probably always will be.”

Sam smiles at him, lopsided. “Guess that comes with the territory,” he says. Dean snorts. Understatement. Sam licks his lips, looking up at him, and then--flips them, in the bed, rolling Dean underneath in a surge of show-offy muscle so that he’s propped up on his elbows, his body solid in the cradle of Dean’s body. He looks kind of smug about it, too, and Dean pinches his side and says, “show-off,” and Sam kisses him soft, doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Maybe if Alex needs her dorm room demon-proofed, we can both help,” he says, when he pulls back.

Dean tucks his hair back behind his ear, shakes his head. “We’ll teach her how to do it herself,” he says. “She’s supposed to be a college girl, right? She needs to learn.”

Sam nods. “Deal,” he says, warm, and kisses Dean again, and they move on then, to better things.