#he will take on as much of the blame as he can

[cheralith]

— APARTMENT 345. (PT I)

synopsis: moving into a new apartment with three men isn't exactly the most easy feat, but you think there's something quite unusual about your new roommates that makes life seem a little more fun. (prequel) ↳ episode synopsis: you suspect that one of your roommates has it out for you, making things a little more than awkward when you and him have a day off together. feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya || wc: 3.6k contains: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, roommates au, modern au, fluff, misunderstandings, an attempt at crack (pls laugh), aged-up characters (20s), pov switches, more of a focus on karasu in this

You think your roommates are weird.

Not weird in a bad sense, but just... odd.

Their dynamic with each other is especially a little peculiar, considering none of them act the same way with one another, their personalities always twisting just a bit when interacting with the other roommate. But it's still clear there's this unspoken harmony between the three of them that upholds the peace in the loft. You just struggle to fit yourself in it to help the foundation of it all—as it's clear you're not a part of their little circle. At least not yet.

Yukimiya is by far the most normal one out of the trio and perhaps the one you've talked to the most.

A true gentleman at heart, he's always the first to greet you in the morning as you sleepily daze into the kitchen, a steaming black coffee at the ready in your cup for customization. You come home later than the others, but he'll always save some leftovers for you in the fridge for you to munch on, your name written in neat handwriting with a smiley face adorning glasses on an orange post-it plastered on the container.

You blame it on not really knowing each other that well, but you find he's the most docile with you. Him, Karasu, and Otoya have known each other since their high school days, so it's quite normal of them to bicker childishly with each other, but when it comes to you, you always see a rather gentle smile on his face. You think it looks a little fake, though, as if it's there by default.

Otoya is humorous by nature. He's funny without trying, without having to crack a smile from himself. In fact, you rarely ever see him smile, just always has a sleepy look to his face as he says the oddest things known to mankind and is often the starter to meaningless conversations.

"I feel like we should domesticate bears," he had said one time out of the blue. "I think they're too cute to not be pets."

"They'd bite yer head off an instant, dumbass," Karasu told him as he flipped a page in his magazine, to which Otoya nonchalantly shrugged.

"If it means I can pet them, then I'd take the risk," he said simply stated before stalking off to his room that always smells just a little bit fruity and sweet (It didn't take you long to figure out whose Pineapple Ice Lost Mary was on the kitchen island).

He wears weird t-shirts too. Aside from the "I ♡ MILFS" shirt you saw when you first met each other, some of your other personal favorites include his firetruck red shirt that simply reads "i have a bomb." in plain black Arial font and his beige long-sleeve that displayed a cartoon cat yelling "Chicken Parmesan!" in a graphic speech bubble. Clearly wearing them with no shame, you ask Otoya where he gets such... unique... t-shirts, to which the latter replied,

"Goodwill."

Karasu is the one roommate you haven't cracked fully yet. By far, he's the weirdest.

Even though he was the first person you had met when you were first being interviewed, he tends to keep to himself. Something in your gut says that he's staying away from you, purposely keeping himself at arm's length. He's still cordial, but unlike the other two, he doesn't really seem to spare much words with you. The most he'll usually do is just remind you that it's garbage day, but other than that, he rarely ever speaks more than sentence to you on the weekly.

Because of such, you think you have to walk on eggshells around him, always apprehensive that you'll make one wrong move that'll for sure root a dislike towards you with him when it's clear he doesn't really seem to favor you all that much. He'll give a nod of acknowledgement at you if you pass each other in the halls and will ask if he can borrow a charger, but nothing more personal. You figure that might be best—it's better to have a roommate who barely knows who you are but exist with you peacefully instead of a roommate who constantly butts heads with you.

So when you finally have a day to yourself that just so happens to coincide with Karasu's, you are nothing less of tense.

And to think you were going to spend the day finishing up on your soap opera with your pals Ben and Jerry! You were looking forward to having the loft to yourself, so when you see Karasu lounging on the couch and watching a soccer match, your stomach plummets. Otoya gets home at around 5:00pm, while Yukimiya gets home at around 6:30pm, meaning you'll be stuck with Karasu for at least a full seven hours.

Karasu notices you as you walk out of the hallway, turning his head towards you when you come into view. You freeze suddenly, body going rigid as his deep navy eyes bore into you.

Your surprise still lingers in your body, even as you open your mouth to try and greet him, but nothing comes out.

A brow raises from him. "Hi...?"

"Oh! Uh," you twitch, trying to recompose yourself. "Good morning—!"

"Mornin'," he quietly greets back after a confused moment of silence at your reaction.

When you stiffly shuffle towards the kitchen, you want to crumble and whine. Back still facing your roommate as you pour yourself a cup of coffee, you ask, "You don't have work today?"

"Nah," Karasu says boredly, "Boss took an early vacation, so everyone got the day off today."

"A-ah, I see," you quietly reply back with a thick tongue. Fighting the urge to wail aloud at the fact you'll be sharing a space with the one roommate that seems a little too far from your reach, you escape back to your room with your breakfast, not really wanting to be around him.

You were planning to do so much today! Clean up the loft, do some stretching on the balcony to catch some sunlight, cook up some meals in the open kitchen, but of course your luck doesn't bestow upon you today, as doing all of those would mean Karasu would be in your vicinity.

The mattress creaks when you miserably land on top of it, pillow soaking in your whines and sighs. You suppose your room will have to suffice.

On the other side of the wall, Karasu swiftly pulls out his phone, head clamoring with thoughts and questions as he opens up the "alvin & the chipmunks" groupchat in his contacts.

karasu (10:34) : eita —otoya (10:36) : wat karasu (10:36) : u told me her day off was next week friday —otoya (10:38) : ya, the last friday of the month —yukimiya (10:39) : Check your calendar, Eita karasu (10:39) : yea exactly. it's today u fucking buffoon —otoya (10:39) : wait fr —otoya (10:39) : fackkk im late on my credit payment again

Karasu smacks his hand to his forehead, cursing Otoya under his breath. Of course he misread the dates. Now he's stuck here with you for the next few hours and he doesn't quite know what to do.

—otoya (10:42) : idk what ur deal is shes nice —yukimiya (10:42) : Agreed. I think you just need to talk to her karasu (10:43) : u guys dont get it —yukimiya (10:45) : Why? Does she make you nervous?

A dry swallow passes through Karasu's sandy throat as he reads Yukimiya's text. Even though it was quite a loud secret, Karasu couldn't deny the fact you did, in fact, make him somewhat on edge. But not for the reason you think.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't expect you to be so attractive in real life given that your contact information's profile picture was simply just your first initial. How was he supposed to act when such a pretty thing is around him at nearly all times? He's never been very good with women the way his roommates are. Terrified of making an accidental wrong move, Karasu distanced himself away from you, trying to make himself scarce in fear of doing so.

He groans before typing his reply back.

karasu (10:47) : no

Otoya replies back in an instant, and Karasu thinks he should put hair removal cream in his shampoo at his response.

—otoya (10:47) : liar lmfaooo bet someones got a crush uwu

He grits his teeth, trying to fight the blush that he can feel creeping on his cheeks.

karasu (10:47) : stfu moron karasu (10:48) : as if u weren't making goo goo eyes at her yesterday morning —otoya (10:48) : not my fault! —otoya (10:48) : theres just sumn abt a cute girl in a large tshirt and short shorts... 🤔 really makes u think... karasu (10:49) : bro thinks hes aristotle —yukimiya (10:50) : Please stay respectful

Yukimiya then texts something that makes Karasu's brain fizz out ever so slightly. He frowns.

—yukimiya (10:50) : Tabito, why don't you take this time to do something with her to get to know her? To help break the ice —otoya (10:50) : yaaa like yk how me and her went to that flea market together —yukimiya (10:51) : Yes exactly. Or how she and I visited that pop-up shop down on 5th

As much as he'd hate to admit it, Yukimiya did have a point. You got along with the other two men just fine, even having the ability to crack teasing jokes with them without a misunderstanding flying about. But he knew if he even tried to do something of such with you, if you took it the wrong way, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

karasu (10:55) : idk —yukimiya (10:56) : It doesn't have to be extravagant. Just something casual —otoya (10:59) : ye like what chappell roan says🫡 —yukimiya (10:59) : That's not what that song is about —otoya (10:59) : oh...

Karasu shuffles his phone to the side and settles woefully into the couch. He shifts his eyes to your closed door, where he knows you're in probably not giving him the time of day.

On the other hand, you're wallowing in your misery still, trying to think of what to do that escapes Karasu's radius around you. Perhaps you should go to a museum? Or maybe try out that new pottery place down the block.

You opt for going to the grocery store, thinking that be a good distraction and would allow you to get some fresh air. Maybe you should try out that pasta recipe you've been seeing all over social media nowadays.

You launch up in your bed, determined to make this day about yourself and not to allow yourself just simply mope around in your room as you march towards the door. Hand grasping the doorknob, you fling it open, ready to clean yourself up in the bathroom but instead find yourself facing Karasu, who has a hand up that was clearly ready to knock on your door.

You jump back. "Oh! Hi there!"

"Ah," Karasu slowly puts his fist down, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't mean t'startle ya."

"No, you're fine," you choke out, wondering what business Karasu may have that landed him at your door. "Did... did you need something?"

You wince at your tone, since it comes out a little sharper than you intended. Karasu seems to have noticed it, seeing as how he thins his lips ever so slightly.

"Uh... well," he starts slowly. "Was just wonderin' if you needed anythin' from the store. I'm 'bout to head down there to do some shoppin'."

You blink owlishly at his comment before giving a stiff, brief chuckle. "What a coincidence," you mention, "I was actually gonna go there myself in a few."

You think of this as your chance to perhaps finally get some breathing space for yourself. An elation fills yourself at the thought, and you begin to conjure up your list to give him, but then he says something that brings the former feeling of tension back into you, heaving you down like sand.

Karasu juts his hands in his pockets, turning to directly face you, his red ears hidden from view from you, curtained by his dark hair.

"Well, if that's the case," he begins all too nonchalantly, going to share your gaze. "D'ya want to tag along?"

And now you're here, side-by-side in a semi-crowded market with the one roommate who you don't even know the age of.

Something in your common sense attempts to get the thought of he doesn't actually hate you through your head. But you still can't help the fact that every time you brush against him, when he looks at you, you think he's sending you a warning.

In Karasu's eyes, however, when he scanned the area of the market, he notices that it's quite busy, so he understands that there'll probably be some times where you just accidentally bump into him to avoid running into others, his eyes flickering to you each to just make sure you're okay.

"Jeez, this much for apples?" you exasperate as you put down the bag of the fruit.

Karasu looks over your shoulder, his cologne suddenly filling your senses. Sweet... you think, yet woody. A slight hint of sage, perhaps?

"Yer better off just gettin' the individual ones," he points out and juts his thumb behind him, breaking you out of your trance. "Y'can get the same amount for cheaper by a buck or so."

"Oh, really?" you perk up and whip your head around to view how much the individually stacked apples were, but before you can process it, you spin around too fast and twist over your own feet.

An elderly woman on a motorized shopping cart is just a few feet shy away from you, and you brace for impact from running into it, but you feel a yank of your arm tug you back just in time.

"Woah there," Karasu is quick to pull you in close to his chest, letting the elderly woman glide by without another care in the world. "Don't get too hasty now."

You feel heat skitter over your face, embarrassed at the fact that you can't even move your own limbs properly around him. You should've just stayed back home, sighing internally at how impulsive you could get. To think you could withstand an entire shopping trip with your roommate that you think stays away from you when you couldn't even stand being in the same room as him!

You mumble an apology, Karasu's cologne wavering about you again in an attempt to calm down.

He suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the vibration of it thundering from his chest. You lift you chin up to see him... smiling? And it isn't one of those stiff ones that he often gives you nor the smirk he'd throw at Otoya or Yukimiya, it's a genuine one, one that shows his teeth and makes his eyes crinkle.

"Didn't think someone could get so excited 'bout mere apples," he remarks with a grin.

An incredulous stare glazes over your eyes, a lighter feeling in your chest suddenly gracing upon it.

Karasu takes notice of your staring and freezes. A dread leaks itself within his body, making him go rigid all of a sudden. Oh, he's really done it now. He can't go making such teasing jokes around you like you were Otoya or Yukimiya. You're not a guy either, it's not polite to be making such jokes around a girl barely knows.

An apology attempts to conjure in his tightened throat, but it dissolves the moment that he sees you break out into a smile yourself.

"Sorry," you breathe through a breezy laugh. "Economy's so bad nowadays that any good deal will get me reeling, y'know?"

Karasu's eyes soften when he spots your relaxed smile, one he's seen in passing but never to him, until now. And when you adorn it towards him and him only, he can't help but feel a fluttering feeling in his chest.

Yukimiya's words echo in his head. Break the ice.

"If that's the case," Karasu starts slowly. "The weather's gettin' peachy now. There's an actual farmer's market openin' soon downtown, and they sell their stuff for way cheaper than this crap."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to avert his gaze away from your curious, awaiting one. He thinks those doe eyes could definitely beat a puppy's any day.

His breath hitches, confidence slowly building and falling as the seconds tick by.

Just break the ice.

"Would..." he coughs, clearing his throat. "W-would y'wanna go there with me... to check it out... next Saturday...?"

Karasu dares to turn his eyes back to you, where he finds you fondly smiling at him, assurance all over your features.

"I'd quite like that," you reply warmly.

The chicken plops into the pan with a hearty splat. Karasu winces.

"Shoot," he mutters, feeling a bit of the orange sauce flickering onto himself. "Didn't mean t'drop it that hard... did it get on ya?"

"A little bit," you laugh as you scoop up a bit of it from your arm and tasting it. Karasu looks for a sign of approval on your end to see if the pasta sauce is good on your favor and sighs when you nod contently. "Mm. Not bad."

The door to the loft clicks open and you avert your gaze to it after you sprinkle some salt into the boiling pot of water. In comes Yukimiya and Otoya, chattering about.

"Hi there," you greet, waving a hand.

Yukimiya is first to notice you both, surprise on his features when he sees his two roommates that had barely seemed to acknowledge each other since your move-in standing next to each other in the kitchen, cooking out of all things.

It's a domestic scene, one he thinks that you and Karasu would only accomplish in a year's-time or so given the current atmosphere. So it comes to a pleasant shock to him that the bull-headed Karasu actually took his advice for once and broke the ice by himself like a big boy.

"Smells good," Otoya hums contently and spots you and Karasu after Yukimiya. "Whatcha both cookin'? And can I have some?"

Otoya peers over Karasu's shoulder, the latter lightly shoving him back before Otoya can dip his dirty finger into the sauce. "Hold it, ya idjit. We're nearly done, relax."

"If you're able to actually, Otoya," you call over and jut your head towards the oven. "The garlic bread should be done by now. Would you mind taking it out so it can cool?"

"Can I get a piece?" Otoya asks, cheering under his breath when you nod as you roll your eyes.

Yukimiya watches as your pour in some pasta into the pot, noticing the way Karasu whistles haughtily as you laugh when the water violently bubbles.

"Ah, is this the marry-me chicken pasta I told you about the other day?" he asks, fighting a disappointment the builds when he acknowledges that he wasn't the one that got to cook it with you but rather Karasu, despite you and him have built a weekly-habit of cooking with one another.

"Yep!" you chime happily without a care in the world.

"I still think that the sauce is missin' somethin'," Karasu mutters. "Like there's not enough zing."

You peer over to him and take a little bit of the spare lemon leftover, squeezing a bit of it over the sauce and chicken. You take a spare spoon and sipping a bit of it. You then bring the spoon and its leftovers to Karasu's lips absentmindedly for him to try. "How's that?"

He pauses for a minute, breath hitching as you bring the same spoon that your lips touched for his to as well. He stutters but goes to lean in anyway, slurping it and tasting that tang that was missing.

Otoya's eyes narrow slightly as he places down the platter of bread.

Yukimiya's lips pull into a small frown.

You blink up at him. "Is that okay? I just added some more lemon."

"Yeah," Karasu breathes as steadily as he can muster. "yeah, it's good. Thanks."

"(Y/N)," Yukimiya announces aloud suddenly, averting your gaze to the brunette. He fixes on his usual demure smile on his face the moment you spotlight him. "Remember that new cafe that was being built around the corner? Turns out they're opening next weekend, d'you want to come with me?"

"Ah..." Otoya mutters lowly as he crunches on a piece of bread. "Why are you only inviting her?"

"I thought you guys don't like coffee," Yukimiya says casually, lips still fixed ever so lightly, but Otoya can tell there's a mild mockery behind that pretty face of his.

"I guess so," the latter says, sighing. "But... there's also the record shop also has its monthly 50% off sale on Saturday, remember, (Y/N)?"

Otoya's eyes go to glance at the record player you placed in the living room for decoration, yours and Otoya's collection of records piling up beneath it, your music tastes being one the things that you were able to break the ice with Otoya about. "I spotted that record you were talking about the other day, pretty sure it'll be a part of the sale if we can go next week."

A small bit of pity grazes on your face as you guiltily look back on the both of them from the kitchen island. Karasu fights the urge to smirk when he turns over the chicken in the pan, already knowing what you're going to say to them.

You scratch your cheek, smiling a little sadly at the two of them.

"I'm sorry guys, I'd love to go but," you wave a hand towards Karasu, who gives into temptation and throws a sly smile over his shoulder from behind you that makes the men you face frown and purse their lips. "Karasu and I have plans already that day to go to the opening of the farmer’s market..."

a/n. my re-run of new girl has inspired new heights it seems. also don't talk to me if u dont think otoya would vape bc ik that mf would hit a geek bar any time of the day /j (don't follow his example tho. keep them lungs clean, kids)

sorry that this was more focused on karasu than all three of them, but i prommy yukki and otoya will get their spotlight next time i write abt them (which will be soon hopefully! im having fun with this au)

thank you for reading as always! comments and reblogs are the best way to support your writers; they're always appreciated and never unnoticed <3

[forunct]

[12:57 pm] ♧ + showers w/ bf!jaehyun

the water from the shower head was the perfect temperature to help you decompress from the stressful week. the weekend finally arrived after countless meetings with representatives and numerous presentations you did for potential clients. the week took a lot out of you to say the least and to reward yourself, you decided to sleep in and take a steaming hot shower to bring you peace.

you were so focused on lathering your body with your loofa that you didn’t hear the door open ajar.

“love?” jaehyun’s voice caused you to jolt away from your thoughts and back to reality. jaehyun had decided to sleep in with you and when you woke up you tried your hardest to not wake him while you headed to the bathroom to take your shower.

“yes?~” you were standing there watching his movements from the corner of your eye, waiting for his response. he was stripping from his pajama pants and swiping on his phone. you mentally scolded yourself for not being more quiet, knowing that jaehyun needed the sleep.

the small speaker you both had in your bathroom started to play music from his playlist. as you stand facing the water, the shower door opens from behind you, letting in cool air. you turn to see his toned naked body climb in, closing the shower behind him and letting the steam cloud your vision. jaehyun reaches for you and immediately pulls you into his firm chest and kisses the top of your head.

“i swear, you always take the hottest showers,” his voice is an octave lower than normal and it’s clear that he just recently woke up, it’s your favorite version of him. so raw and untamed, reminding you that no matter how perfect he is, he’s still human. you look up at him, offering a soft smile.

“it helps calm my mind,” you wiggle out of his embrace and begin to work the soapy loofa into his chest, careful to not let your gaze avert to lower than his v-line which is always harder than you think, his happy trail leading to one of your favorite places on his body.

“i don’t wanna smell like your fruity body wash.” he’s giggling as he frantically tries to grab the loofa from you, succeeding almost immediately.

“well, i figured that you wanted me to help you get clean considering you’ve hijacked my shower.” you laugh only half joking. as much as you love showering with jaehyun you had your mind set on a meditation shower alone.

“can you blame me? i’ve been yn deprived all week. i’m putting myself in your schedule wherever i can.” he’s pulling you closer yet again, his grip tighter than the last time. “i’ve missed you.”

“i’ve missed you too, jae.” you blow out a huff of air as you shut your eyes. “you have no idea.”

jaehyun’s hands traveled from your waist down to your ass, giving it a small squeeze. the kiss he plants on your lips is needy and hungry, as if you were the meal he’s been waiting to have all week. your arms wrapped around his neck as you sunk into his touch, getting completely lost in the kiss. your moan was almost inaudible but he heard it and he smirked against your lips. jaehyun knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“why don’t i show you how much i missed you, love?”

it didn’t take long for you to think that maybe this is the kind of meditation shower you needed.

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Coffee and Journals

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: You step out of your comfort zone and meet a guy in a coffee shop who you somehow befriend, and end up in the theaters with him translating a Russian film.

A/N: omg this one is so cuteee, I love it lmk your thots<3

BYR(b4 u Reid): use of y/n, mentions of anxiety, readers never had a bf, inexperienced reader & Spencer, can be season 1 & 2 Spencer | none <- [warnings]

It started with a trip to the coffee shop.

You weren’t supposed to be there, at least, not alone. You didn't go places alone. That was just how… things were. But it was a new year, and you were tired of every year being the same.

No new friends, no love interests, no new experiences.

You knew, deep down, that you couldn't keep living like this. The loneliness was starting to feel like a weight pressing down on you, making everything dull.

So, here you were, Ordering a drink at the register, by yourself. God, was your voice shaking?

“Um, can I get a-a regular iced latte?” You asked, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. The cashier nodded, you paid, and that was it.

It was such a small thing ordering coffee, and you’ve done it a lot of times just this time you didn’t have the comfort of a friend right beside you. You were all alone.

You felt proud, proud that you left your home, came to the café alone, and now you were going to enjoy it at the shop.

You picked a small table, hands gripping your journal as you sat down, waiting for your order to be called. The café was a little too busy for comfort. Too many eyes, not on you, you knew that, but… it felt like they were.

You took a deep breath, opening your journal.

Do I look weird?

No, no. There were plenty of people doing the same thing. You weren’t standing out.

After a few moments your drink was finally called, you stood up, going to grab it, only to find there was two.

The man beside you just looked at you unsure of which one was his and which one was yours.

“Oh- um, I’m not sure which is which.” He said, glancing between the two drinks. You looked at him, then at the cups, trying to find anything that could differentiate them. Nothing.

“Uh, excuse me, which one is the iced coffee?” You asked the barista. “They both are.” She answered flatly, like it was the dumbest question she’d ever heard. Your stomach twisted immediately.

Great, now I sound stupid.

“Which one has non-dairy milk?” The guy asked

The barista sighed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know, maybe that one.” She pointed to the cup on the right.

You and the guy exchanged a look.

“Um… I guess I’ll just take this one.” You mumbled, grabbing the drink you had originally reached for. You don’t have any dairy problems, and didn’t care for the kind of milk used so it wasn’t too much of a problem.

You can hear the guy sigh as you walked away.

You sat down, watching him talk to the barista, clearly trying to get his order fixed. You couldn’t blame him for being frustrated.

You refocused on your journal, writing down your thoughts about stepping out of your comfort zone. About how weird it felt. How anxious you still were, and how you hoped this wouldn’t be another failed attempt at trying to change.

“Hi, I’m sorry, but do you mind if I have a seat?”

You looked up.

It was the non-dairy guy.

Your first instinct was to say no. You didn’t want anyone sitting with you. This was already too much social interaction for one day.

Or you could just leave, but if you let yourself retreat, wouldn’t that be losing? Wouldn’t you end up right back where you started, lying in bed tonight, frustrated with yourself for failing at something as simple as existing in a public space ?

“Of course.” You said instead, nodding toward the empty chair.

He gave you a polite smile and sat down. You stole a glance at him. Tall, kind of lanky, brown hair, sharp features, hazel eyes. He didn’t seem much older than you.

You tried to focus on your journal again, but it was hard with someone new in front of you.

“You know, an iced coffee isn’t something I normally get.” He said suddenly

You blinked, looking up.

He was talking to you.

“I usually just get a regular hot coffee.” He continued, like this was a totally normal thing to say to a stranger. “Today I wanted something different. And, well… you saw how that went.”

You let out an awkward little laugh, like the ones you give people when you aren’t sure what to say.

Is he crazy? Why is he talking to me?

“I get it.” You said after a pause. “I don’t usually get coffee on my own, and the one time I do, my coffee gets mixed with yours, and then the barista has a shitty attitude.”

That was relatable, right? That made sense?

Stop overthinking.

He smiled. “I’m Spencer Reid.”

First and last name, who does that?

“I’m y/n.” You said, giving him a small smile in return

you didn't give him your last name, it felt too formal, you guys also didn't shake hands which relieved you because those were always so awkward for you.

Almost all physical touch was awkward with you.

“I'll let you get back to work.” He said, pulling a book out of his bag.

“It’s not really work.” You admitted, which shocked you because you were trying to continue this conversation. “Just journaling.”

He glanced up again, nodding slightly. “Studies show that journaling can improve working memory, reduce stress, and even strengthen the immune system,” he said. “James Pennebaker, a psychologist at the University of Texas, found that expressive writing helps people process traumatic events by organizing thoughts and emotions, which can lead to improved mental health and reduced anxiety.”

You stared at him.

“Yeah… That’s kind of why I’m trying it.” You said, giving a small smile.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “How do you know all that?” He just shrugged as if it was nothing “I read alot.”

“That’s cool.”

“Really?” He smiled a little. “A lot of my friends think I’m crazy, and that I should be spending more time doing other things.”

You shook your head. Well… okay, you did think he was a little crazy. But only because he could start a conversation so easily. You couldn’t imagine doing that.

“Not crazy, I think it’s fascinating your brain is able to retain all that information.”

The two of you settled into silence after that. You wrote, he read. You noticed he was flying through pages at an insane speed.

Curiosity got the better of you.

“How are you reading so fast?” You blurted out.

He looked up. “I can read 20,000 words a minute.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you lying?”

He laughed. “No. I uh… I have an IQ of 187, so I think that helps a lot with my reading abilities.”

“That’s like a superpower.”

“Some would say it’s the lamest one to have been given.” He joked, you shrugged. “Maybe. But I think it’s cool.”

And, honestly?

You were surprised by yourself.

A simple conversation. With a stranger.

A man, even.

ʚɞ

Over the next few months, you found yourself at the coffee shop at least three times a week. And almost every time, Spencer was there too.

At first, it felt like a coincidence, like an unspoken routine you both had fallen into without realizing. But eventually, he started waving you over when he spotted you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestured to the empty seat across from him. And, recently, you had started doing the same for him.

You’d sit together, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking about what you were reading, new movies, or random events happening around town. It felt… easy.

“How’s journaling been?” Spencer asked as he took a sip of his coffee and looked at you.

You glanced up from your book. “Oh, it’s been really good. It actually helps a lot more than I thought it would.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “Yeah, it helped me a lot too.”

“You journal?”

He shrugged, shifting slightly in his seat. “I used to. Not as much anymore, but when I have the time, I try. I think it’s a good outlet, especially for people who struggle with intrusive thoughts, or high stress levels.”

“You think only people who struggle journal?” You questioned

“Not necessarily.” He said, tilting his head slightly. “I mean, anyone can journal. But research suggests that people who journal regularly are often those who need a way to process their thoughts. It can help regulate emotions by engaging the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for rational thinking. That’s why it’s often recommended for anxiety, PTSD, and even problem solving.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “Yeah… I think it’s helped me a lot with my anxiety.”

You weren’t sure why you would say it, you never really talk about what you struggle with but somehow with Spencer it felt safe.

You looked up at him, Spencer’s eyes had softened, his expression shifting from analytical to something gentler. “That’s good.” He said sincerely. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I think it’s obvious. I mean, I’m constantly fidgeting, can’t make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation with people.” You say as you look down at your hands

He shook his head. “You don’t seem that way with me.” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Well, yeah. Not anymore.” You admitted “When we first met and you asked to have a seat, I wanted so badly to say no, and even get up and leave.”

His mouth parted slightly before he quickly recovered. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. But I had to let you because if I hadn’t, I would’ve felt like I lost that day, and definitely would’ve felt horrible about it. But… thankfully I did.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, processing your words. Then, the corners of his lips lifted into a small genuine smile. “I’m glad, glad that you let me sit with you.”

“I’m glad too.”

It felt strange, strange in a way that made your chest feel light and unfamiliar warmth settle in your stomach. Having someone new to talk to, someone who, despite barely knowing you, felt like they had been in your life forever.

Spencer made things easy. Talking to him didn’t feel like a struggle, like you had to overthink every word before you said it. He listened. He never made you feel awkward or unsure.

Somehow, being around him made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were figuring yourself out.

Both of your coffees were nearly empty now, the melted ice clinking softly against the cup. It meant this little hangout, or whatever you can call it, was coming to an end. And you didn’t want it to.

Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against his cup before he cleared his throat.

“Um, Y/n.” He said, voice softer than usual. You looked up at him, giving him a small, curious smile. “Yeah?”

He hesitated for half a second, then pushed his hair behind his ear, a habit you noticed. “There’s this old film playing at the theaters. It’s not far from here. I was wondering if you’d like to go?” He paused, glancing down at his hands before quickly adding “It’s in Russian, though, so if you’d like, I can translate it for you.”

“Russian?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, his lips twitching up slightly. “Yeah. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I just- I thought it would be nice.” He said as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile. “I’ve never seen a Russian film before, but I do like the theaters. And if you’re offering to translate, I’d love to go.”

Spencer let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing like he had been holding it in without realizing. “Yeah?” His voice was lighter, hopeful.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

His lips parted, like he was about to say something else, but he just nodded quickly instead. “Alright. Um. I can pick you up? If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You could see the way he was watching you carefully, waiting for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not with him.

“No, yeah, I’m fine with that.” You said, a soft warmth settling in your chest.

Spencer’s fingers tapped against the table before he spoke again. “Can I-uh-can I have your number? Just so we can communicate better.”

You smiled, reaching for your phone. “Yeah.”

ʚɞ

Spencer arrived at exactly 8:00 p.m, right on time. When you opened the door, he stood there with his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels before offering a small, shy smile.

“Hi.” He said softly

“Hi.” You echoed, feeling your pulse quicken.

You both walk towards his car, and to your surprise he opened the door for you. It was a small gesture, but it made something warm settle in your chest.

Was he just being polite, or did it mean something more? You didn’t want to overthink it, didn’t want to confuse kindness for something else.

At the theaters, Spencer insisted on paying for your ticket. When you offered to cover snacks instead, he shook his head. “No, really, it’s fine.” He said, handing over his card before you could argue.

“Okay, well, now we have to go somewhere else after this. My treat.” You said, crossing your arms.

He tilted his head, considering for a moment. “We could get ice cream after?” He suggested.

You smiled. “That sounds nice.”

As the movie started, Spencer leaned in slightly, quietly translating the dialogue for you. At first, it was just a whisper here and there, but soon he got really into it, his voice subtly changing to mimic different characters, his hands gesturing slightly as he explained a scene.

You let out a small laugh.

“What?” He asked, turning to you with a small smile.

You shrugged, grinning. “You’re so good at translating. And getting into character, it’s honestly amazing.”

His expression shifted, something like pride flashing in his eyes before he looked down for a second, almost bashful. “Oh. Thank you.” He said, meeting your gaze again.

You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had leaned in until the moment. His hazel eyes held yours, the sounds of the movie fading into the background. Your breath hitched, and you quickly shifted in your seat, breaking the moment.

Spencer cleared his throat softly before returning to translating, but you could tell he’d noticed it too.

When the movie ended, you tossed the empty popcorn bucket and drinks into the trash bin. “So how’d you like the movie?” Spencer asked as you both walked towards the exit.

“It was really good, I didn’t expect to like it as much as I did.” You truthfully answered.

Spencer smiled, as he opened the door for you to exit the building. “They play foreign films here once a month. I’d be happy to come with you again. We could watch together.”

“I’d love that, it’ll be really fun.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I love films, and translating stuff.”

“I could tell.” You teased, giggling softly.

He glanced at you, something hesitant in his expression. “Still up for that ice cream?”

“Are you?” You asked. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“No-no I want to.” He assured you quickly. “I just wasn’t sure if you still wanted to.”

“I do.”

He nodded, a relieved smile tugging at his lips. “Perfect. I can leave the car parked, and we can walk to one?”

“That sounds good.”

As the two of you walked side by side down the sidewalk, you glanced up at him. “Do you usually go to these movies alone?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Sometimes my friends join, but most times, it’s just me.”

That made you frown slightly. You didn’t understand how someone like him, someone so interesting, so kind, could go alone so often.

“Well, now you won’t have to.” You said looking up at him. He turned his head to you, a flicker of something soft in his expression. His stomach fluttered at your words.

As you both walked, your hand brushed against his. Instinctively, you pulled it back, quickly intertwining your fingers together in front of you. “Sorry.” You murmured.

Spencer shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”

You nodded, slowly letting your hands fall back to your sides. He noticed the way you kept fidgeting.

“You don’t have to be nervous.” He said.

You blinked. “Hmm?”

He glanced at you, his brows slightly furrowed in thought. “I can tell you’re nervous.”

Your stomach tightened slightly. “How?”

“Little things.” He said simply. “Like biting your lip, looking around a lot, touching the hem of your shirt.” He pointed out each thing, and you hadn’t even realized you were doing them.

“Oh.” You laughed softly, a little embarrassed. “I just- I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve ever gone out with someone who isn’t my friend.”

Spencer tilted his head, his lips twitching up slightly. “Oh? I thought we were friends.” He teased.

Your eyes widened slightly. “No-no, we are friends! I just meant my other friends.” You rushed to explain.

He chuckled. “I know what you meant. It’s okay.”

Then, he stopped walking.

You took a few more steps before realizing and turned to face him. “What?”

He shook his head, his gaze fixed on you with something unreadable.

You frowned. “What?” You asked again, playfully nudging his shoulder.

Spencer let out a small laugh, but then his expression grew more serious. “I like hanging out with you.” He admitted. His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful.

“And I don’t want to scare you, but… the little time we’ve spent together, at the café, and now today watching this movie, it’s made me just want to be around you more.”

Your breath caught in your throat. No one has ever said something like that to you before.

Your heart pounded as you swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Oh. That’s…nice.”

Spencer’s lips pressed together, and you could tell he was waiting for something more, something deeper. And you wanted to say more, you really did. But fear gripped you.

“Spencer, I-i feel a lot of things right now.” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel nervous, scared, excited, happy- I can really go on. But I’ve never had a male friend before, never been in a relationship, and what am I saying? I could be misinterpreting this whole situation, you meant as a friend right? Like- you don’t mean romantically want to be around me more?” You were rambling, your words spilling out before you could stop them.

Your face was flushed, ears burning.

Spencer took a small step closer.

Your breath hitched.

“I’d like to get to know you better.” He said carefully, his voice steady. “And… see where we go.”

His hand found your elbow, gently squeezing it, his touch was warm and reassuring.

Your lips parted slightly. “Really? With me?”

It felt unreal.

Unreal that anyone could possibly see you in a romantic way, no one ever has.

Spencer nodded “With you.”

You exhaled, your heart racing. “I’ve never, I’ve never been in a situation like this. No ones ever wanted something with me before.”

“Well…I do.” He gave you a small, soft smile.

Your hands trembled slightly as you rubbed your face. Your chest felt tight, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t untangle.

“Spencer, you don’t understand.” You whispered, your voice barely holding steady. “I don’t know how to be with someone. I don’t know what people do when they’re getting to know each other, I don’t- I don’t know.” Your words tumbled out, laced with panic, with doubt.

Spencer took another step closer to you, his expression soft but steady. “You do.” He said gently “We do it all the time. Every time we sit together in the café, every time we talk, every time we share something about ourselves, that’s us getting to know each other.”

You swallowed, looking at him, searching for some kind of reassurance in his face. He seemed so sure of what he was saying, so certain.

“But I don’t know what I’m doing.” You admitted, your voice cracking. “I could mess it up.”

Spencer shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n, I’ve never been in a relationship either.” His voice was soft but unwavering. “I don’t have all the answers, I know just as much as you do. But that’s okay. We can figure it out together.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at him. He meant it, every word. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his voice.

“All we have to do.” He continued “is keep doing what we’ve been doing. Spending time together, learning more about each other. And when we’re both ready, we’ll navigate whatever comes next. There’s no pressure, no expectations… just us.”

Something inside you shifted, something warm, something terrifying, something new.

You looked into his eyes, trying to believe in what he was saying. In him.

“Okay.” You whispered

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, as if he’d been waiting for that answer.

“Okay.” He echoed, as if sealing the moment between you.

For a few seconds, neither of you moved. The streetlights cast a soft glow around you, the distant hum of the city filling the silence. Then, without thinking, Spencer reached out, not hesitantly, not awkwardly, just gently, and let his fingers brush against yours.

It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was just enough. . .

hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

Tag list

@alastorssimp

~ also if you guys want to be tagged in all of my SR fics just lmk and I would love to ~

read all my other works here<3

[twistedpink]

ex!Malleus 👽👽 he's such a lovey dovey i wonder what he's like when he loses the only one who loves him!

Ho did you twist the knife??

Ex!Malleus almost feels an.. Entitlement towards you, it’s probably the reason for your breakup. Sure, it’s hot to be protective, and it’s sweet to be clingy, but when he starts following you to events when he knows it’ll isolate you? Not cool, dude. Of course you want to fix his reputation! You want him to have friends! But it’s not within your job description to lose all of yours for the sake of being alone together. When he talks about marriage and living away from the public, it makes you itch with anxiety,, You need an out. Of all the people you didn’t expect to give it to you, it’s Lilia that encourages you to break the news.

Ex!Malleus goes INSANE when you break up with him- What do you mean? What did he do wrong? Even if he’s begging you for the answer, do not. Under ANY circumstance hit him with a “it’s not you, it’s me”. He just won’t accept it either way, but especially if you blame yourself. You can hear lightning strike in the distance after you walk away, hopefully for the last time- And for once, it’s not your problem. You watch it dance with a smile on your face,, Not to be malicious, but because you’re not scared of it anymore.

Ex!Malleus is going through every stage of grief, give or take a few steps because nothing makes sense anymore, and nothing matters since you’ve left- As a professional yearner, he prays for your affections to magically be returned. This multiplies by at least 100 once you get a new partner.. Suddenly you can’t go out on dates because of freak weather conditions, concentrating on their dorm,, How odd. If you were ever to confront him, he’d take it as an apology rather than a scolding,, It’s probably best to avoid him anyways. He’ll get over it eventually.

Ex!Malleus is always keeping tabs, just in case there’s some way to woo you back- Years pass, you change partners, and interests. You’re not the person he was dating anymore, not even the one who broke his heart, and that’s okay! He’s only ever wanted you, regardless of the form you take :)

Ex!Malleus doesn’t grow bitter, or to resent his love. Doesn’t regret that you were so kind- If anything, he’s mad that even with his status and wealth, he couldn’t keep you happy. At least, not enough to stay. He watches you grow older from afar. You smile, cry, the crinkles around your eyes deepen. The wisdom of your gaze becomes boundless, they’re much more beautiful than before in his opinion, though they’ve always been gorgeous. He visits you once you’re close to the end, he worries the next time he checks that a hundred years will have passed, and he can’t have that. He meets your husband- Maybe not for the first time, if you met someone at school. Any sense of feeling boils down to a simmer — He pops the question.

“Why would you leave when I gave you everything? You certainly would’ve aged more gracefully, owned land beyond your comprehension. You could have loved me, fixed me,”

“It wouldn’t be honest. I loved you, but things pass. People change.”

He wants to cry and curl up, to hold and kiss you and envelop your thoughts as you do his. He feels completely childish, he’s never been so weak.. He doesn’t have that right. Not anymore.

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

He flies off into the night, to do whatever 200 year old virgins do.

@bju3c0re

[reverieblondie]

Bad Dream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, Mysterious passes, Breaking and entering, Panic attack, Breaking washers, Bucky touches your underwear (whoops...)

Summary: You and Bucky are not only neighbors but friends for months now. You two are close... but are still finding out new things about each other...

Word Count: 2,613

A/N: This was inspired by an amazing request got from an anon. I loved the idea so much that I can see this being turned into a full series if enough people like it! Just let me know! I look forward to feedback like always! and request are always open!

"So... What am I eating?"  

Bucky says almost suspiciously as he looks at the macaroni noodle on his fork.

"I can not believe you are so picky," you say, rolling your eyes before taking a delightful bite of the casserole dish you made. Once swallowed, you point your fork accusingly toward Bucky. "It's called tuna mac. It's cheap to make but delicious. Now you can either eat it, or I will stop being such a friendly neighbor and stop sharing my dinners with you."

Bucky chuckles before giving you his signature smirk, "If that's the case, don't come knocking on my door when something of yours breaks again." 

You huff, he doesn't play fair. 

He watches as you pout and sigh before he takes the macaroni and tuna mix into his mouth. When he eats it, his eyes bulge slightly. "That's actually really good?"

"See, you just need to trust me, neighbor. It's something my mom used to make. Boil noodles, mix up the sauce, and top with cheese. It tastes better than it sounds." 

Bucky smiles as you ramble on. When you look over at him, he looks back to his plate, mixing it around as he makes a face before eating more. "That's true. This is way better than that chicken we had last Thursday."  

"Hey! We agreed to forget that monstrosity!"

Of course, Bucky laughs at your dramatics, and you can't help but echo it back. Thursday night dinners have become your favorite tradition since moving in; no matter how shitty your week could have been, this always lifts up your spirits, even just a little bit. Most people in your building seem to avoid Bucky; they won't join him in the elevator or even greet him in the mailboxes. They judge his past... but who are you to judge? Though getting to know him didn't happen instantly, it happened because of an accident you might have caused…

You have been fighting with these washers and dryers since you moved in. And now here you are fighting again with the washer. The stupid thing won't spin, and it's starting to flood with water. You paused the cycle and knew that you should just ask the maintenance guy for help, but that has the risk of being blamed for it being broken.

Distracted, you don't notice someone walking in to use the other machines. Honestly, it's surprising someone else is up this late just to do their laundry. So much for not running into anyone while you're dressed in your lazy day pajamas—no bra just to add to the pending embarrassment… Trying your best to keep your head down and fix the machine as silently as possible, you didn't realize that your rattling around has definitely drawn attention. 

Until a shadow is cast over you. Turning slightly, you look up at the imposing figure and see your next-door neighbor. James Barnes... Ex Winter soldier and a current Avenger... 

His head tilts as he stares down at you, "Problem?" 

This is the first time you have really seen him up close… he's much taller than you thought, and his eyes are the clearest shade of blue… While you're silently coking, Bucky shifts on his feet, his scowl deepening as he continues to stare. Mentally, you chastise yourself for being rude and pull your hand from the filled drum to offer him a handshake, stumbling out your name in the process. This was a mistake, however, because you ended up splashing the super soldier with washer water… -Shit… 

"I'm sorry, and yeah, I'm just trying to get this washer to work… they never want to act right… old machines acting wonky, what's new?" You huff a laugh, but Bucky keeps looking at you unamused… ah yes… he's an old machine, you idiot… 

You quickly take another step closer in panic mode, "Oh! But not all old machines! My grandma had a vacuum for like 20 years, and it never crapped out on her!" -what are you even saying? 

Buck just further scoles you, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Honestly, it's a bit intimidating—his intense stare locked onto you. Then there's the fact that his glare doesn't roam—it's just set on your eyes. Plus, you're just rambling on, and he's just watching you like you have lost your mind! You can't afford to move again… 

"Why don't you just call for maintenance?" he says in a confused tone, his brows knitting together.  

You give him a gentle smile, "I don't want to be blamed for breaking it…" 

He doesn't seem too impressed with your excuse as he rolls his eyes, but to your surprise, instead of walking away, leaving you to struggle, he places his laundry down and begins to investigate the machine. 

You step closer to him, "So you're going to help me?" you chirp.

"I'm going to try, but if it breaks further, that's on you…" -Okay can't really blame him for that..

"Fair enough, neighbor." he only seems to hum at that before continuing his investigation. 

He does his diligence checking everything out; while he does that, you're doing your own checking out. It's not like you're trying to be a perv.... but curiosity always gets the cat in the end, so you allow yourself to check him out a little. His back faces you, and it's incredible how sturdy it appears; you can even see how the muscles ripple with every move despite it being hidden underneath his t-shirt. Then his narrow waist that draws your attention down the length of him, and his arms bulging with every move as it roots around on the inside of the drum. The dark metal arm is so eye-catching you can't help but stare even though you know you shouldn't... If you were caught, you would be modified by how rude it would be. But you can't help yourself from admiring how pretty it truly is… and the craftsmanship is impeccable… 

"I think something is just caught if I can unwrap it…" With another pull and a slight groan, he rips out what was caught. Surprisingly, it's Small... red and- 

Bucky holds up the dripping wet material, and now that he has it unscrambled, you are mortified... Of course, out of everything to get tangled up and caught, it had to be your thong. Turning it about, Bucky looks at the material confused, unsure, until he meets your mortified eyes and flushed face. It must suddenly click for the man that he's holding a stranger's underwear because, with the inhuman speed, he's met with realization and he's practically throwing your underwear at you like it would bite him. 

The flush of his neck and the way he suddenly does not meet your eyes tells you he's thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am…" Ma'am? Wow, now he's talking to you properly; he really is embarrassed...

It's quiet for a moment as Bucky awkwardly shifts on his feet. Then you can't help yourself any longer, and you laugh. You laugh so hard you all but fall over yourself, and to your shock, Bucky breaks from his mortification and joins in on your laughter.

The moment lasted for a while until you were both on the verge of tears. As you wipe away your tears, you catch him smiling, and it's like looking at a completely different guy. If people saw this, they wouldn't be avoiding him, that's for sure. 

With the washer fixed, you could finish your laundry cycle as Bucky moved to start his. As you're turning to thank your helpful neighbor, he is gone? Scanning the room, you see him leaving, shit! 

"James!" You shout without thinking. He pauses before turning back with a small smirk. 

"Don't tell me you broke something else." 

He's… teasing you? A grin spreads to your face, "I wanted to thank you for helping me out." 

He shrugged, "It's no problem. But call me Bucky; when you say James, it makes me feel old." With that, he walked off. 

Days later, you were still troubled by the feeling you didn't get to properly thank your neighbor for saving your panties from doom. So you did the only thing you could think of. Making him food. Make sure debts and gratitude are always paid... it's something you picked up from both your parents, but where your dad made sure to do it with favors and money, your mom would always pay by making desserts and meals. So, in your situation, you decided on a platter of brownies.

The look on his face when you knocked on his door was priceless. Of course, he accepted, and thus, the cycle between you two started. You would have a favor, Bucky would help, and then you would make him a meal or dessert. Over time, Bucky's grumpiness was replaced with friendliness, and your friendship got stronger. Even though you had fewer favors, you two continued the tradition of eating a home-cooked meal together once a week until suddenly, it was odd if you were not seeing him.

Like now...

It's been three weeks since you last saw him. It's honestly so lonely in the building without him around. Sure, he's not talkative all the time, and there are still things you know you two have not shared, but it's undeniable this closeness you feel to him.

You just hope you get to see him soon, or you will be forced to break something and force him to come back…

It's another quiet night. It should be a night that you rest easy, drifting far off into dreamland. But you just can't seem to fall asleep. Perhaps it's the fault of a certain super soldier's absence. As you lay pondering whether you should just force yourself to rest or get up and do something until you're tired…

Then, loud bangs from the neighboring wall interrupted the stillness. On instinct, you freeze and try to listen to where the crashing is coming from. 

Bucky's place... but that's odd; he's not home. Or did you just miss him? Another crash makes you second guess that it could be a break in… 

But who would be dumb enough to break into a super soldier's apartment?

Apparently, you are...

It is technically breaking and entering, but is it bad if you do it for a good reason? What if someone is wreaking his place? What if he's in danger? What will you do if you actually run into someone? You will deal with that once you encounter it…

You ignore that for now as you concentrate on picking the lock... You hated it then, but you're now thankful for the skill at times like this. It clicks with a few more twists, and you're now sneaking through the threshold.

It's the same place you have been in multiple times, but tonight, you see the crumble of blankets on the living room floor, the flipped furniture, the mess of wreckage. Then you see the more heart-aching sight in the room's darkness. 

Bucky usually stands tall and has that sly smirk for you with some greeting. Now, he is crouched so small, disheveled, and trembling. Those ocean-blue eyes clenched tightly...

A step towards him immediately has him on the defense, ready to pounce.

But he pauses at the sight of you, confused, rightly so. But you're more distracted by how the outside lights reflect on the streams down his cheeks.

You're about to say something, but his hoarse voice cuts you off before you can, "Get out!".

You should really listen, but as he sinks back to the floor, your feet feel like lead. With a swallow and a steadying breath, you step closer. He should understand by now that you're not one for listening. 

Closer now, you can take in his sweat-drenched body and matted hair and how he tries to stop shaking... Thousands of questions flock to you; you just swallow them down. Slowly, you sit close enough to be noticed but not enough to touch him…

Settled beside him, you hold your hand towards him on the floor, making a silent offer. "I'll stay for as long as it takes..." 

It could take minutes or hours. There is also the chance of him lashing out, but you will just be silent and patient and let him feel your presence and hear your calm breaths.

You're there for a couple of minutes until a clammy warmth touches your hand. Looking down, you can tell the shaking has stopped a little. You spread your fingers and let him lace them with his own. 

"I... don't know what to say..." he mumbles, but you shake your head before meeting his eyes.

"You don't have to explain... We all have scars... Bad dreams. "

"Every night I have bad dreams... Sometimes, I just randomly shake awake."

"Other times, you just lay there waiting for the sun to rise."

The look he gives you tells you he's shared the experience. You shrug and look out the window, "Like I said... bad dreams."

As you two sit there, his shaking slowly stills, but your hand's grip only tightens. 

"I'm sorry..." It was such a silent whisper that you almost didn't hear it. Bucky, tired, and a wreck, brought back memories you thought were packed away. 

"Don't be sorry. Let's just work on getting you cleaned up. Are you good enough to rinse off?"

Bucky nods before standing up... He walks towards his bathroom but pauses just short... He has his own set of questions he wants to ask... One of them is clear to you... are you going to stay... 

"I'll clean for a bit and will brew some tea for, when you get out. Okay?" 

He gives a short nod before disappearing. You start placing what you can remember being placed before. It takes you a minute to get everything back in its place. Sure, this place was a mess, but you have had to fix the fallout of worse. Once done, you move on to the kitchen to brew the tea. As the water heats, you just listen to the muffled sound of the shower. Does this happen often? And if so, how have you never noticed before?

Bucky takes longer to wash off than you expected, but ultimately, it's a good thing he took the time for himself. When he finally comes out of the bathroom, he's only in pajama bottoms, a towel resting on his shoulder, and fixing his metal arm back into place. His hair is still dripping wet when he finally plops down on the couch. For a long moment, he's still thinking of what to say, but you just slide the peppermint tea over to him.

Bucky gives a small thank you before he lifts the cup, letting the smell waft to his nose and the cup warm his hand. When he finally takes a sip, you feel like you can breathe again. While he works on his tea, you notice the drops falling from his hair and landing on his skin, causing him to shiver. He didn't even bother to dry his hair, huh? Carefully, you take the towel from his shoulder and softly start to dry his wet hair away. Bucky looks at you curiously as you focus on the task before you. 

"Why are you so good at this?" 

"Like I said, everyone gets bad dreams. Some worse than others." 

He hums before slightly chuckling, "Is that also why you know how to break into apartments?"

The playful tone in his voice makes your heart squeeze, and you can't help but grin, "You're not the only one with secrets, soldier boy." 

[muqingslover]

hiii, can you please share more goofy habits caleb has while sharing a bed with u 💝

[ By popular demand i'm here to share extra thoughts on Caleb's sleeping habits! Kinda of a part two to this, in case you missed! ]

-----------------------------⁠✿⁠⁠✿⁠⁠✿⁠--------------------------

Oh boy there's so much to unpack here. We all know Caleb has experienced a loooot of bad things and has not worked through them in an actual healthy way at all. He is also a master at hiding it from you, but you can get a glimpse of how damaged he truly is during bedtime.

First of all, you will rarely, if ever, catch him sleeping on an actual bed. Or sleeping at all to be honest. What Caleb does is take power naps whenever he can on his couch at the office or when he's at your place waiting for you to. The one to (partially) blame for this is his chronic insomnia. I like to believe Caleb has always been a very light sleeper and it's only gotten worse throughout the years— The sound of a door opening is enough for him to be wide wake in a matter of seconds. Trust issues anyone?

When he wakes up, if alone, his go-to activity is working out. He'll do push-ups or leave the house for a loooong late night jog, anything that will tire his body out since he's wired up. Then, he takes a freezing cold shower to reboot his system and either starts to work early or sits down to solve some calculus problems to prevent his mind from thinking about anything else since it's 98% of the time never anything good.

To add to that, the main reason as to why his insomnia is so bad is the fact he has nightmares on an almost daily basis. They're often about you in some way and he wakes up panicking about where you are, how you are, if you're with someone else, why you aren't here with him instead and if you plan on leaving him. That's why it's so crucial for Caleb that you stay somewhere he can see you whenever he needs to. Otherwise, his anxiety will gnaw at him until he just shows up unprompted on your front door in the middle of the night.

On the topic of nightmares, next thing on the list is a more...sensitive one: His reactions to nightmares that involves the abuse Caleb himself went through. I say sensitive because this man is a trained soldier and he wakes up in very high alert which, sometimes, means he might hurt you by pure reflex similar to retired war veterans.

The first time you woke up with his hands tightly wrapped around your neck you seriously thought you were a goner. The sound of your voice calling his name was fortunately enough to make him snap out of the haze he was trapped in, believing he was under the threat of the ghosts of his past and had to defend himself before it was him the one who would end up dead. You have always been his anchor, it was not a surprise that you were the only one able to pull him back even in a moment like this.

Regardless if he had been in control or not, Caleb would blame himself until his last day on this world. He wouldn't sleep (Key word being sleep because he will stay in bed with you, he just won't *sleep*) on the same bed as you anymore after this and instead spends his nights on a mattress on the floor next to you. The sight of your bruised neck and the tears in your eyes because of his hands, because of him, only serve as fuel for his nightmares. He doesn't even want to imagine what would've happened if you hadn't been able to speak loudly enough to wake him up.

"Caleb is a big spoon!!" people yell at me and I agree! However! If you want this man to have some peaceful sleep then the only way to achieve that is to have him laying on your chest where he can both listen to your steady heartbeat and feel your warmth as he holds you. Run your fingers through his hair and promise him you'll be right there when he wakes up to soothe his anxieties as much as possible and he might just sleep throughout the entire night.

Moving on to more sweet thoughts so we don't end on a bitter note— He has serious beef with the plushies you own, specifically the ones you hug to sleep. I mean, he's right here? Hello??? Why would you want to hug that fat ass bear of yours. If your plushie goes missing one day through suspicious means don't be sad because you can just cuddle him! He promises he'll behave this time!

Another silly thing is Caleb cannot keep his hands to himself when the two of you are sharing a bed. Literally. His hands have a will of their own and they must be touching you at all times in some way. That also means he will bother you by torturing tickling you non-stop until you're on the verge of tears. He loves the sound of your joyful laughter and how red your face gets while you try to escape the evil tickle monster so I'm afraid there's no way to get him to actually stop.

[reidrum]

hi lil headcanon: can’t stop thinking about how Spence sees the worst of humanity and lots of violence for his job so when he comes home to you he is extra gentle and savors your goodness and cherishes doing mundane things with you- tidying up and listening to his music, going on walking dates, holding you close literally always- he is extra protective of his beacon of peace and hope in humanity :,)

this is so post prison spencer coded

(i yapped again im so sorry)

following his release spencer reid would struggle to return to normalcy for some time after his whole life was turned upside down for months but the pockets of peace he creates with you he finds are essential to his well being.

your spencer reid wakes up early on the rare saturday mornings he has off making sure you’re still sleeping and sneaks off to the kitchen to make breakfast that will soon wake you up in a few hours with the wafting smell of waffles and coffee. he dons a ‘kiss the chef’ apron you ironically got for him that he unironically treasures deeply as he finishes plating the spread on the tray and bringing it back to the room.

maybe on saturday mornings you always go to the farmers market and you always buy a fresh bouquet of flowers because having them on sunday makes for a good omen for the coming week. and even on the saturdays spencer reid can’t be there you send pictures of the bouquet you picked out that day and it makes his heart so so happy. his favorite thing is when he tells you the significance of different flowers and they show up in the bunch the week after. if one day you don’t go to the farmers market or there just isn’t a bouquet in the house that day spencer reid absolutely cannot have that and so he goes out on his own curating the perfect bouquet of flowers because he’ll be damned if you don’t have your flowers!

i think he would also encourage you to ramble as much as he does because he loves hearing you talk, even if he knows nothing about it or it doesn’t make sense. like for someone who loves info dumping and telling people cool facts, spencer reid is much quieter around you because hearing you talk especially about things you love is so so special to him. he would trade his voice like ariel in the little mermaid if it meant he could hear you talk on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

and like, because this is spencer reid there will be a time that something happens to you because of what he does (alexa play peace), kinda similar to matt and kristy when she’s held hostage at her work or derek and savannah when she gets shot. hotch has to physically keep him away from the scene because he’d be so close to losing it and risking everything by going solo but who can blame him when you, the other half of him that the prophecies say you’d spend your whole lives searching for but he was fortunate and grateful enough to find you so soon, could get hurt. he would harbor the same guilt hotch feels dating anyone after haley because after maeve spencer reid refuses to let anything take you away from him, but here he is putting you in a situation he caused because an unsub he put away has a grievance to settle.

and eventually you’re safe and back in the apartment with spencer reid and he’s just. in crisis mode. because he genuinely is not sure if he can handle something like that happening to you again. but he’s not even sure how to prevent that from ever happening. and he’s so proud of you for how brave you’re trying to be but it’s breaking his heart entirely to watch you do that for him, and he’s so sure he does not deserve your grace at all. so it’s not even a hard decision when he decides to increase his university teaching hours and step away from the bau just to be with you more.

because now you and spencer reid have more time to make flower bouquets at the farmers market every week. he’s bucket listed every museum up and down the eastern coast and fully intends on finishing it before the year ends. he carries a little trial size vial of your perfume in his satchel whenever he misses you a little too much, even when you’re just in the other room. spencer reid wants nothing more than to live a simple life with you, and after the world has dealt him too many bad cards, he’s more than grateful to get to hold these little moments of you close to mend his bruised heart.

[ssweetreveries]

friends | l.hc

🎧 friends . chase atlantic

✩ haechan x reader

• 18+ mdni!

• word count! 2.7k

oneshot, nonidol!haechan, afab!reader, bsf!haechan, softdom!haechan, sub!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, cumming inside, begging, haechan is a bit desperate, friends to lovers, they’re both a bit stupid, love confessions, lots of kissing, smut, fluff, use of petnames (baby)

synopsis . seeing your disappointment from yet another failed date, haechan swears he can do better than any of those other guys you’ve been going out with.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

i apologize if there's any mistakes, this isn't proof read and english isn't my first language. please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

You arrive at his house for your usual hangout and plop down next to him on the couch, making yourself comfortable. He takes the time to silently appreciate your appearance before speaking up. “So, how was your date?” he asks, unable to contain his curiosity.

You shrug. “Hmm? It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“He was nice, i guess, not really my type.”

“I see..” Haechan can’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction knowing you wouldn’t be seeing that guy again. “Something happened or..?”

“It’s not something that happened, he just has too many girls on his roster. Yeah, okay, he’s good in bed and he’s attractive, but..”

“Sounds like he’s a player,” he comments.

“Yeah, basically.”

Haechan hums, “You deserve better.”

“I know..”

“You knew he was like that and still slept with him?” he interrogates.

You shrug, “Mhm, gotta keep my love life interesting. Wanted to see what the hype was about.”

Haechan shakes his head with an exasperated laugh, “Of course you did.”

“Hey- What’s that supposed to mean!”

“You’re so impulsive sometimes.”

“C’mon Hyuck, can you really blame me, a single woman, for wanting the touch of a man?” you say, half dramatically.

His jaw clenches for a moment, and he has to hold himself back from confessing something he’d regret. “I guess not.” he reluctantly agrees.

He shifts closer to you, facing you to meet your eyes. “But, seriously, aren’t you getting tired of that kind of thing?—Don’t you want something more meaningful?” he asks a bit more serious.

You hum, “That’s kind of hard to find these days.”

“I guess that’s true..”

A comfortable silence settles between you too before Haechan speaks up again. “I could give you the touch of a man, you know. And more.” He suddenly says.

You laugh it off, taking it for another one of his usual jokes but when you meet his eyes there’s no sight of his cheeky grin.

“W-wait, Hyuck? You’re not joking.” You observe.

He remains silent.

“What- What did you say..?” you ask again.

He takes a deep breath, as if grounding himself and finding the words. “I said, I can give you the touch of a man, and much more.” he repeats.

“Fuck, I like you, okay? And I don’t know if you’re just too damn oblivious to notice or pretending you don’t know on purpose, but i’ve dropped countless of hints (Y/N). I don’t want you to go on dates with those shitty men anymore, can’t you see me?” He pauses for a moment, his heart racing as he confesses his feelings. “Fuck ‘like���, i’m in love with you even. Just give me a chance. One chance to prove i’m worth it.”

“Please,” he adds.

Your eyes widen at your best friend’s revelation. Unsure of what to say, “H-hyuck..” you manage out in a hushed tone.

“Please say something,” He urges, wanting to know if he’s completely ruined your friendship.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you whisper under your breath.

He tries to hide his dissapointment, but it’s evident. He looks away, unable to maintain eye contact with you any longer. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything.” he mutters.

He pulls back, creating a bit of distance between you two.

“N-no, wait, hyuck-” You reach out for his hand, stopping him from moving any further.

He tenses up at your touch but meets your eyes with his own, waiting for you to continue.

“That’s not what i meant..” you say quietly.

He frowns, not quite understanding what you mean by that. “Then what did you mean?” He asks hesitantly, holding to that last thread of hope and silently praying that he didn’t entirely ruin everything.

You’re not sure how to express your feelings so you ask him one simple thing, “do you trust me?’

He pauses for a moment before meeting your eyes and answering,

“With my life.”

You soften a bit at his words and coo, “Close your eyes.”

He listens, closing his eyes at your request.

You lean in, hovering over him, and he can feel your warm breath on his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now,” you whisper above him before pressing your lips to his.

He’s surprised at your boldness but immediately relaxes and gets lost in the feeling of your lips on his. His hand flies up to the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he kisses you back.

The kiss starts off soft and tentative before gradually growing more desperate. His body presses against yours, wanting to close any gaps between you, needing to feel your body on his. He starts to move his lips more urgently against yours, unable to get enough of you. When you pull back for air, he lets out a low whine, already missing the contact.

He leans his forehead against yours, panting softly. He opens his eyes and looks at you—a mixture of lust, affection, and disbelief.

“Say you feel the same,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. His hand still playing with the hair at the back of your neck.

You peck his lips and assure him, “I do,”

“Then why-,” he starts, his mind going back to the guys you’ve hooked up with.

You cut him off, deciding to tell him the truth. “I- I was trying to ignore my feelings for you..” You say, and it sounds stupid now, but you continue anyways.

“You’re my bestfriend hyuck. I didn’t want to ruin that..”

“You..” he looks at you for a few moments before scoffing softly.

“You idiot..” He mutters, a hint of fondness in his voice. He tugs you towards him, pulling you in his lap so you’re straddling him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, his fingers brushing against the skin of your lower back exposed by your shirt. He looks at you silently, drinking in every small detail of your face as he thinks to himself how stupid the two of you are for not confessing sooner.

You look down at him, gently threading your fingers through his hair as you look at each other in silence.

He closes his eyes at your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I can’t believe this is real” he whisper, burying his face in your neck, nuzzling your skin and inhaling your scent.

You hum and Haechan starts pressing lazy, wet kisses to the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone.

You tilt your head, giving him more access as he continues nibbling at your skin.

“I don’t want you to go to those guys,” he mutters against your skin.

“I can treat you so much better, make you feel so much better,” He continues, pulling back briefly to meet your eyes.

“Say your mine,” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“I’ll show you how much better I am, just say your mine, please.” He whispers, his lips brushing your earlobe as he speaks.

“I’m yours, hyuck,” you whisper, a bit breathless.

And that’s all he needs before his mouth is back on yours. His lips capturing yours in a deep and possessive kiss. His tongue brushing against your bottom lip, wanting to taste you completely.

You part your lips for him, and he wastes no time delving in, tongue playing with yours as he desperately explores every inch of your mouth.

You let out a small moan in the kiss and that only seems to spur him on, his hands slipping up your shirt in no time.

You shivers at his touch, his cold fingertips a contrast to your warm skin.

His hands run up and down your sides, eventually sliding down to the backside of your pants, resting on your bottom.

He pulls back, and a soft whine escapes your lips at the loss of contact.

His hands massage your ass as he speaks, “I want you,”

“I want you so bad,” he whispers, his lips attaching to your neck once more.

“You have me hyuck-,” you whisper back, breathlessly.

“The problem is..” he starts, his voice now holding a huskier tone, “Once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You whine and nod, “I want you too, hyuck, please,”

Hearing you say that, the neediness in your voice.. It’s all he needs to hear for the cord within him to snap. Your small plea breaking the last of his restraints, and within moments you’re flipped onto your back, Haechan hovering above you.

His lips find yours again before leaving a trail down your jaw, to your chest. He tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Can i take this off?”

You nod and he pulls it off you, throwing it on the floor and immediately going to kiss you through the thin fabric of your bra.

As much as you think it’s sweet that he’s taking his time, you need more.

You tug on his hair, earning a groan from him as he reluctantly pulls away to look up at you.

“I need you,” You whine,

His lips quirk into a smirk, “Need me, huh?”

You whine and nod. His hand travels down to your stomach, coming to rest on your lower half, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants.

His hand dips into your pants, softly rubbing circles on your hip bone. And you let out another desperate whine, just wanting him to touch you where you really need him.

He lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head, “You’re just so impatient, hmm?”

“Please-“

He hums and pulls away briefly, tapping your thigh, “up.”

You lift your hips and he tugs your pants down, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments.

He licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your damp panties, His hand travels down to your heat, cupping it as he leans back down to kiss you.

You arch into his touch, aching for more.

He smiles against your lips and his hand dips into your panties, fingers running down your folds and collecting your juices.

He takes his hand away and you whine at the loss, only to be followed by a moan at the sight of Haechan tasting his digits.

He lets a moan of his own, “Fuck.. you taste so good baby, could get addicted to this. To you.”

A soft noise escape your lips at his words, and his hand goes back to your heat. Fingers collecting your arousal, before gently rubbing circle at your entrance. “So wet…” he comments before entering a finger.

You moan and arch into him. “m-more, hyuck, please-,”

He adds another finger, the pad of his thumb coming to rub circles on your clit. The added stimulation causing you to moan in delight.

Your moans only spur him on, and he pumps his fingers faster, making sure to keep that delicious pressure on your clit at the same time.

You can feel yourself getting close and your hips buck against his hand as you feel yourself nearing your release. “Mmhhh- Hyuck, don’t stop, don’t stop-!”

And he listens, his lips attaching to your neck as he keeps fucking you full of his fingers, determined to get you there.

He feels you clenching, indicating that you’re close, and he pulls away from your neck, wanting to see your expression as you come undone on his fingers.

With a particular curl of his fingers, your orgasm reaches you with a breathless gasp. And god, what a sight to see, he thinks.

Your hazy eyes, parted lips, flushed skin.. God, everything about you. He wanted to coax that expression out of you over and over again.

He leans down to press his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. “You’re so pretty..”

You kiss him back, tongues dancing together.

He’s over you, body pressed against yours and you can feel his hard on against your thigh.

“Hyuck…” you whisper, hand coming down to feel him through his pants.

He groans at the contact, “baby- don’t.”

He gently takes your wrist and pulls your hand away from him. “If you touch me, I won’t last” He says, in an almost whiny tone.

You let out a whine of your own and tug him back down to feel his lips on yours again. “Hyuck…”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck me, please”

He groans and speaks in a husky tone. “Mm need me that badly?”

He pulls away to discard his pants. Once they’re off, he catches you shamelessly staring at the outline of his cock through his boxers, a smirk appearing on his lips.

He pulls them down and his length comes to stand tall against his stomach. Your pussy clenches at the sight and you can’t help the moan that leaves your lips.

God, he was so pretty, without doubt the perfect size and girth. And, gosh, you couldn’t wait to find out how he’d feel inside.

His hands come down to the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips for him so he can take them off.

He licks his lips at the sight, his fingers coming back to play with your folds. “Fuck, so pretty, baby..”

“I can’t wait anymore, baby, please,”

You wrap your legs around his waist, efficiently tugging him closer, and Haechan takes that as an answer, hand finding his throbbing dick and giving himself a few tugs before lining himself up to your aching core.

He rubs his tip up and down your folds, the mix of your juices and his pre-cum making him glide smoothly. He taps his dick on your clit a few times before pressing his tip to your entrance.

He looks down at you, hand coming to caress your cheek before slowly pushing in.

The both of you moan in unison at the intrusion, his head coming to fall on your shoulder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he mutters as he fully bottoms out.

“S-so fucking tight-,” He moans out against your neck.

You moan, his cock so deep, it’s just perfectly touching that one spot that makes you see stars.

He pulls his hips back almost completely, before snapping them back to yours with a hard thrust.

He does that a few times before he finds another rhythm, his thrusts starting to pick up speed as he lets out a series of moans near your ear.

He kisses your cheek before pulling away and changing angles. His hands find your legs and push them back a bit, allowing him to reach even deeper.

“Hyuck!” You scream, his length hitting all the right spots at this new angle.

He only responds with a low moan of his own, his hips moving fast, at a relentless pace as he desperately chases his release, trying to coax your own at the same time.

“A-are you close, baby?” He asks through short breaths. “Can’t h-hold back much longer-”

You nod furiously, moans slipping past your lips as he continues abusing your sweet cunt.

You feel yourself getting there, and your pussy clenches around him.

“Fuck!” he groans at the feeling of you sucking him in, your walls clenching around his length, threatening to make him spill right there.

“H-hyuck!” you scream, letting him know you’re close.

“C-can I cum inside, baby, please, please” He whines.

You nod and that’s all he needs to know, he continues desperately fucking himself in your tight walls and within seconds he spills his load deep into you, the feeling of him triggering your own orgasm.

He falls against you as he reaches his high, arms wrapping around you and burying his face into your chest. Your legs are trembling, pussy desperately clinging onto him, milking him whole, causing him to moan into your chest.

When both of your breathing comes back to normal, Haechan gently pulls out before collapsing back against your chest, your hands coming to run through his hair as you both calm down.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder and looks up at you, “You’re mine, okay?” he says, tone a bit softer.

You hum in response.

He shakes his head, pulling back a bit to cup your cheeks. “I mean it, (Y/N).”

“I want you to be my girlfriend, mine to cherish, mine to love.” he says, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

“Then I’m yours, hyuck..” you whisper back.

He smiles and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, “good.”

© ssweetreveries follow for more!

[pineconepie]

Since option 1 won the poll results, here you go!! <3 two yandere dads and their kiddo who is back after a long abduction! Will write a part 2 eventually if anyone wants to see that.

TW: Past mentioned kidnapping, implied child abuse (not by the yandads), infantilization, hospitals

...

Several years went by since your disappearance, and both parents handle it differently.

For the first few years, Cullen began drinking more regularly and destroying his own things in anger. He took his pain out on everything he could except for August. If he weren't being self-destructive, he was driving all around town, including your favorite places, just to have even the tiniest hope of seeing you again. Even with the odds against him, he didn't stop.

August, on the other hand, went practically catatonic as his heart shattered inside of him. Everything reminded him of you in some way. If he were at the grocery store, he would remember your favorite snacks. At home, he remembered the times you'd bake together or make dinner together.

Years passed. You'd be an adult by now. It broke both of their hearts to dwell on the fact its been so long. Would you remember them? What if...

That was the worst part to dwell on. The possibility you may never be found again. Each time someone even suggested such a horrible idea, Cullen would get thrown into a rage, while August would break down crying.

Even though, eventually, life went on normally, there was a void that remained where you used to be.

August blamed himself for it all. For just one second he was distracted when taking you out of the car to go shopping, and then...

You were gone.

But just an hour ago, an officer had shown up on their doorstep and revealed to them that you'd been found and rescued from your captors. Their elated screams of joy and sobs could surely be heard by their neighbors. Even before the officer finished their explanation, both husbands hugged each other tightly, laughing as they cried in each others arms.

And now they're rushing to the front desk of the hospital where you were taken for examination and recovery.

"Where is our child?!" August cries. "(Y/n) Zimmerman!"

The nurse at the desk looks between the two, then over to the police officers who guided them through the door. Upon seeing the men nodding in confirmation, she opens something up on her computer. "Room 618," she says. "Elevators are right around the corner."

"Thank you," Cullen quickly responds. He then tugs his husband along before he bursts into tears again.

The elevator ride is painfully long, or at least that's how it felt to August and Cullen.

When the doors open, they race out of them, looking for the sign indicating where your room is. The numbers pass by quicker than they do until they stop right outside Room 618. They're breathing heavy and quick, full of nerves and excitement.

They open the door, too happy to even consider knocking.

Cullen gasps quietly upon seeing you awake, sitting on the bed with blankets over your legs and a tray of food next to you. You look up and watch the two men approach you.

August can barely contain himself, crying loudly as he walks forward. "My sweet baby!" he wails, moving to cup your face, kissing you on the forehead over and over again. It overwhelms you, but he's too emotional to notice. "I missed you so much, never leave us again...!" he cries into your hair.

"Honey," Cullen chuckles lightly, pulling his sobbing husband back by the shoulders. "Give them space." His smile turns towards you, his eyes watering with held back tears. "Do you remember us, baby? We're your dads." His voice breaks on the last few words.

You take a moment to assess your fathers.

The one who was just sobbing all over you a moment ago, has long auburn hair tied up in a loose bun with a couple strands falling from it. He has blue eyes and is slightly taller than the man who had pulled him away.

Speaking of, the other man has mid-length black hair and brown eyes, with a tiny bit of facial hair if you squint. While both seem happy to see you, he seems a bit more composed and calm, even with the tears staining his cheeks.

Hesitantly, you shake your head no, watching as August breaks down further as Cullen rubs his arm to soothe him.

"But—!"

"(Y/n)'s been through enough today," Cullen reminds his partner gently. "We should give them some space."

"But I want my baby!" August continues to sob. "After all these years!"

"I know, hon, me too." Cullen kisses August on the cheek. He then looks at you. "Your papa and I missed you so much. It's going to take a lot of time getting used to everything. But don't worry," Cullen says. "We will be by your side the entire time."

August sits on the edge of the bed and grabs hold of your hand, kissing it several times. "I've missed you so much," he repeats. He holds onto your hand as though he believes you'll be taken away again if he lets go.

Cullen wipes his own tears. "I'm gonna talk to the police and doctors." He gives you an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about anything. Papa and Dad have everything covered."

August nods, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. As soon as Cullen leaves, he says, "Let me help you eat, alright?" Without waiting for you to respond, he reaches for your spoon. When he sees your eyebrows furrow, he smiles sadly at you. "Please, darling? Let me baby you a little after being away from you for so long."

Something in you just couldn't bring yourself to refuse his plea.

...

Several days pass.

August refuses to let go of you for long periods of time, holding your hand as you both walk through the hospital halls, feeding you when you get sleepy during your meals, and constantly keeping you within his grasp.

Cullen isn't much better. He's more subtle, but still tends to crowd around you. He just tries to be more subtle about it compared to his husband.

When you're finally discharged from the hospital, both parents keep you between them as they lead you to their car. Your arms are hooked in theirs as August gushes over you.

"When we get home, I can cook you any food you want!" he grins. "And—and we ordered you a new bed, since your old one is too small. I think all your new furniture should arrive in a day or two." His voice trembles, giving away how hard he's trying to keep himself together. "But while we wait, you'll sleep between Papa and I! We don't want to let you out of our sights yet."

"Or ever," Cullen mutters.

It causes you to shiver, but you brush it off. After so many years of being captive, why wouldn't your parents be clingy?

Even though they're already starting to feel like captors themselves...

As soon as you step foot inside of the home, August and Cullen lead you around, pointing out where everything is as you go.

"And this," August sings as he opens the door to your bedroom, "is your room!"

Despite never seeing it before, it looks familiar to you. Perhaps from pictures shown to you during your hospital stay.

The walls are painted soft lavender with a white accent wall. The plush rug by the small bed matches the wall color, and has frilled edges. The curtains covering the window next to your bed are white with faint purple polka dots on them.

Everything about this room looked beautiful, but childish. Which makes sense. You were a child since the last time you used this room.

"We kept everything the same," Cullen explains. "Your favorite stuffed animals are still sitting on your dresser, and—here—" he pulls you towards your bookshelf, "—all of your favorite books!" he exclaims. He pulls out a worn copy of he Rainbow Fish and offers it to you.

You can tell it's well loved from just looking at its spine and pages.

"This one was your absolute favorite," August informs you as you carefully take it in your hands. "Whenever we finished reading it to you at bedtime, you would always cry, begging us to read just one more time."

"Not just for that book," Cullen interjects. "For any of the ones in this row," he adds, tapping on a section of books.

"I can't wait to read to you again," August sniffles. He's cried so many times, you're wondering how he can possibly have more tears left to shed.

"Now now, dear," Cullen says softly, pulling him close to kiss his temple. "No more tears. We have our baby back now." He then turns his attention back to you. "Isn't that right, kiddo?" he grins.

You wordlessly nod and hand the book back to him.

"How about some cartoons while Papa and I fix dinner? A movie?"

"I'd rather sleep," you inform them. Both parents visibly deflate at your words, and you feel a little bad. "...or maybe a quiet dinner would be nice."

August's mood brightens a little upon hearing you say such a thing. "Yes, yes," he chants in agreement, nodding. "Dinner with my beautiful family... Nothing could be better right now." He gives Cullen a tender smile.

"That sounds wonderful," Cullen agrees. "Oh, and I'll give you some of my clothes until your new ones arrive, okay?"

Before you can ask what he means, he goes to his and August's bedroom and returns with some pajama pants and a t-shirt for you.

"Thanks..." You look between them and they get the message.

"We'll be downstairs while you change," Cullen answers. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I've got it," you insist, prompting both parents to leave your room.

They shut the door behind them, but you don't hear their footsteps descend the stairs. Did they simply want to give you the illusion of privacy?

Still, you're free to change, you suppose.

After dressing in Cullen's clothing, you open your bedroom door. On the other side stands your parents.

"All ready?" Cullen asks.

August is beaming once more at the sight of you. "Oh, darling, you're absolutely adorable!" he cries. He hugs you tightly, squishing you against him and rocking you both gently. You blush, unsure what to make of his praise. Forcing an awkward smile, you try hugging him back. Immediately, he kisses the top of your head. "My sweet baby, oh, Papa loves you so much!"

Cullen ruffles your hair. "We both love you very much."

The rest of dinner is awkward for you. Even though they let you feed yourself this time, you can see them staring, like they're prepared to witness you choke just so they can come to your aid.

Once the meal is done and over with, they set you up on the couch with plenty of blankets and pillows. It feels so soft against your skin that you're already fighting sleepiness. As you adjust in your spot on the couch, the TV begins to play old cartoons—all nostalgic.

There's no doubt your dads chose those programs on purpose.

Eventually, August and Cullen join you. One sits on either side of you.

Before the first episode of the show ends, you feel August's fingers start to massage your scalp, trying to lull you into slumber.

You subconsciously shift your position, so your head is against Cullen's shoulder.

His body stiffens, and when you turn your head to look up at him, you see unshed tears in his eyes. He wraps an arm around you to pull you closer before you can even question it.

"G'night," you mumble, already half-asleep.

"Sleep well, baby," August coos, after Cullen kisses your forehead. "We love you so, so much."

[renku]

A Diary Confession

Asa's POV

8:03 P.M.

I blame this guy I met the other day for what secret I'll confess in these pages.

He's so fly. I can't stop thinking about him that it turned me on so much. As soon as I got home—not a soul is around, thankfully—I went straight to my room and locked myself.

I went straight onto my bed, still wearing my shirt and black skirt, along with my white long socks. Gosh, I hate myself for doing this again but I can't help it. Maybe it's my hormones acting up but it's driving me crazy.

AC was on and I was ready too. Ready for doing this thing again that might shock my parents. Never in their life that they would think I can do things like this. But, at this point, I don’t care.

I laid on my back, pulled my shirt up just right to expose my breasts with already hard nipples, starting to fondle them while I think about the man that I wish doing the job for me. I pinch both nips with my fingers, elicting soft moans, imagining how his lips are exploring my neck, going down to my shoulders, and then starts to suck my nipples. God! I moaned his name out loud just with the thought of it! I continue to fondle myself, savoring the sensation it gives.

I picture him whispering words, dirty, yet ones that I crave to hear. Words that will push all the right buttons in me to unleash my sluttiness. Yes, I'm willing to be his slut! What I'd give to have him right now. Fuck!

My left hand stayed on my left tit still doing its job, while the other starts to crawl its way down. Slowly. Taking its time to trace my curves thinking it's his that does it. I feel panties were getting wet just by the thought of it. In just the right time, my hand reached inside the waistband of my skirt, tracing the piece of undergarment that's already wet from my juices.

I placed my middle finger on top of the fabric to my sacred entrance, tracing its folds right on the middle. Up, down, up, down and again, repitition sending goosebumps in my body. Shit! I feel so hot! Add the fantasy that my dream guy is already topless with his fine body, doing this for me, hearing him ask 'Do you like this, baby girl?' in a sultry way, making me more horny than I am earlier, even thirstier to feel his presence on my body. The things—unholy things—we'd do to this perfect room of mine. Oh, fuck, fuck, yes!

Enjoying myself more would be absolutely good but I need to get off before my parents get back. My panties landed somewhere in the room. Will probably easy to find since my room is always clean.

Oh, to see how drenched my pussy was! Will he eat me out first? Play and suck it? Fantasizing things is far from what I'd experience first hand but that's where the fun lies. The unknown, the excitement of possibilities.

My two fingers already went inside, spreading my legs wide even more, letting the cold air brush against my cunt. Strokes and strokes made me writhe in pleasure, hitting my spots, while his name escapes my lips in such a lewd way that I wish it was his cock infiltrating my pussy, coating it with slick juices. Letting him feel how tight I am for him and him only. Moaning and screaming his name letting him know how I feel. Oh boy, he will sure know. He continues to feast on his prey, leaving his mark, making me his slut the moment his cock entered my cunt.

My digits upped the tempo and my thumb attacked my clit more. I feel it. That familiar sensation, but this time it will be stronger with him in my thoughts. My feet served as lever to lift my ass off the sheets.

Muffled moans, shorter breaths, distorted face of pleasure. I'm close. Oh, how I wish he's fucking my brains out. How I long to hear the words with his deep voice, 'Baby, I'm close, and I'm gonna fucking cum in you.' How beautiful and sinful is that?

With one last push, I came. And I didn't just cum, I squirted. Hard. My legs trembled in pleasure, my chest heaved, catching for air. My fingers stayed inside for a few seconds, extract any residue of pleasure before all of it went down. So good. A perfect night session of easing myself. Do I feel guilty? A bit, yes. But all of these will stay with me.

Now, I better clean myself and my room before my mother come barging in without knocking first.

I can't wait to see him again next week!

[bunnithechubs]

an extra long one as compensation for me not posting anything slate in months <3

transcript below:

S: So, what do we think about this venue for the ceremony?

D: It’s a bit small but I like it, what about you babe?

[Seph and Darius look at Penny who is silent]

S: You don’t like it…

P: Well, I don’t hate it. It’s just not giving what I wanted for the wedding. W

S: hat exactly is throwing it off for you? You wanted great views and expensive. This is literally where the Feng’s got married. You don’t even want to know how much I fought for us to even get a tour!

P: I know you worked hard for this Seph, and I appreciate. Darius and I both do, but… it’s just not sitting well with me. We can keep it in mind in case the other locations don’t work out.

S: Darius… any support here?

D: Seph, I like the place but if Penny isn’t sold then we can look elsewhere. If anyone gives you a hard time then call me. I don’t want you stressing more than you have to.

P: I can already tell you don’t like this for the ceremony but how about the reception?

D: You already know I love this place, boys love it too, so I’m sold on a reception being here.

S: Penny… thoughts?

P: Can I be honest or do you want me to be nice?

S: I would love to hear you say you love this and let me put a deposit down.

P: I can be… convinced to host the reception here. I’m just not sold on the idea of making us all travel.

S: They do receptions here all the time, they have it down to a science. If you’re worried about travel they said they can get everyone here in under an hour.

D: I might need to hire them for my next trip, under an hour in this city? That’s impressive.

P: It takes a lot to impress Darius.

S: Does that mean we like this for the reception?

P: You can put the deposit down.

S: Thank god, that’s one thing off my list.

S: Thanks for meeting with me before Penny gets here.

D: Of course, everything okay? If she says no to this location I might lose my shit, Darius.

D: [Sighs] I know. I’ve been trying to talk to her about her picky-ness. I think it’s the baby. You know she’s not like this normally and she loves you.

S: Oh I know. However, I need you to stop being such a push over Darius.

D: I am not a complete pushover. I just know this wedding means a lot to her and I want it to be perfect.

S: It’s your wedding too and honestly she listens more when you speak your mind.

D: I know, but I think this might be the one. F

S: or all out sakes I hope so, she’s here so put on your big boy pants.

P: Hey baby!

D: Hey there beautiful, how are you feeling still sick?

P: Nope! I think it was just morning sickness. Hey sis, you look pretty- had a date with lover boy?

S: Thanks and he wishes. He’s in the valley but said he’s coming back this weekend.

D: Are you ever going to be nice to Jasper?

S: A man like that? You can never be nice to. Honestly, I think he might have a kink for being ignored.

P: Oh my god, this is place is beautiful! They do weddings here?

S: They don’t actually but Darius promised to donate enough money to keep them in business for a decade so they compromised.

P: So no one has gotten married here before?

S: I think like over a 100 years ago was the last event they hosted. How about you guys explore inside while I find my contact?

D: Sounds good, see you soon.

D: What do you think, love?

[Penny stays silent just staring at Darius]

D: What? You don’t like it?

P: My sister made you meet her early didn’t she?

D: [sighs] Yes.

P: What did she say?

D: She’s just a bit frustrated with finding the ceremony venue. Asked me to put my big boy pants on.

P: I figured as much. I can’t blame her I’ve been a bridezilla.

D: You have, so maybe you should be a bit more… aware of your sister’s feelings too.

P: I’ll take her out for lunch this week and talk with her.

D: I’m sure she will enjoy spending time with you that doesn’t involve wedding planning. By the way, she said she will lose it if you hate this place.

P: Well, it’s a good thing I love it.

D: Me too and I think it was worth all the no’s. Zeph nearly screamed when I told him we were looking at the botanical.

P: If Zeph loves this place then I would have said yes earlier.

D: Please do not tell you sister that.

[itsriabby]

Mona Lisa - S.H.

actor!steve x makeupartist!reader

Plot: When Steve meets his beloved makeup artist’s replacement, he swears it’s hate at first sight. But… is there truly such a thing?

Trope: enemies x lovers

Warnings: slight slut shaming (Steve is kind of an asshole at first).

Hi!! I thought about trying something new and this came up. I don’t really know if I should continue it so let me know if you like it! Thank youuuu!!!

————————————————————————

“What do you mean she’s not coming?”

Steve was mad. Actually, no, Steve was furious. Angela had been working with him for the first two seasons of the show he was in, and frankly, she’s one of the only people he doesn’t hate in there.

Everyone treats him like this stuck up marionette, either not even looking at him because they’re scared of him, or kissing the ground he walks on, doing things for him like he’s a dummy, as if he can’t take a simple direction. It’s honestly insufferable.

The rest of the cast are nice and all, but he doesn’t really spend much time with them out of character. The only time he felt he could be himself and disconnect for a while was in that chair in the makeup trailer, with that middle-aged woman that treated him like her own son, and who’s now, apparently, getting fired.

“Steve, listen, I get that you’re angry, but she’s not getting the results we were hoping for. This season is filled with gruesome scenes that need some vfx makeup that she’s, quite frankly, not qualified for.” Sam, the showrunner, exhaled, like explaining the situation was a waste of his time.

“How do you know that though? You haven’t even seen-“

“We have. We’ve done a test run on a lot of the looks and even she said herself that it wasn’t “her thing”.” Sam sighed, pinching between his eyes. “Look, she’s been in the business for more than 20 years, and she’s tired of having to learn new advanced techniques to do everything we ask her, she just wants to do the usual screen-ready skin and that’s it.”

“But-“

Sam grabs Steve’s shoulder, softening his expression. “I know you bonded with her. And trust me, I get it, it sucks.” He shrugs nonchalantly “But her job wasn’t to be your friend, it was to do makeup, and it’s not up to par, so she’s out, end of story. Now please do me a favor and go change, the new makeup girl is waiting for you in the trailer.” Sam leaves immediately, leaving Steve to dwell on this unwanted situation.

Not only does he have to come to terms with the fact that Angela won’t be here anymore, he has to deal with the new hire.

He doesn’t want to meet her.

If Angela’s not enough for this, then who did they get to replace her? If 20 years worth of work isn’t good enough, the new “girl” has to be old enough to be her grandma. And he bets she’s one of those stuck up mua’s that stay quiet for two hours and look at you like a project, like you’re a canvas, not a human being. God he really didn’t want to meet her.

No one can compare to Angela. She was real to him, she treated him like he was normal. Plus, he really did see her as a parental figure, and God knows he doesn’t have much of those. But well, as it’s been shown time and time again, everyone leaves him, so what’s one more?

Actually no, that’s not true. Robin’s there, as always. She now has the title “manager” added to “best friend” but honestly, nothing’s changed. She’s always wanted the best for him and held him accountable at the same time, so he couldn’t have imagined someone better for the job.

The kids, Nancy and Jonathan are there too, but he hasn’t really seen them in a long time, and they call as much as they can but it’s not that much. Not that he blames them, they all have their own lives.

He thought making friends in Hollywood would be easier, a fresh start, but its the absolute worst. Not only are the friendships fake and shallow, they have a shelf life of 2 months tops. They adore you and tell you what you wanna hear, and the minute they find their next new shiny friend, you’re out. So he has to admit, he feels pretty lonely.

“Goddamit Steve, I’m not your nanny!” Robin marches into his trailer, walking up to him and yanking him up so he stands up “You were supposed to be in the makeup trailer 30 minutes ago! And that tiny short-tempered producer has been blowing up my ear for 10 minutes straight, so you either go out there or I’ll have to kick his minuscule ass and you’ll face the consequences cause-“

“Ok!ok! I’ll go!” Steve raises his hands, trying to calm her down “i didn’t notice I’d been here so long, I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders slump down and she sighs “It’s ok dingus, I’m sure you’re stressed with all your start-of-the-season shit. Go do your magic and we’ll order takeout tonight, alright?” She gives him a soft smile.

They’ve been roommates for years. It’s been a long time since they’ve passed the point of affording their own place, but L.A. is lonely, so having company at the end of the day is nice.

“Ok. Although I’m not sure if you need that more than I do.” Steve laughs and raises his eyebrows playfully.

“Sure, sure, whatever. Go get your makeup done princess” she ushers him away, pushing him out of his own trailer and shutting the door on his face.

…

When Robin said he was late to makeup, she really wasn’t lying. The trailer was almost empty at that point. A girl was sitting in one of the chairs, but apart from her, completely empty.

He’d never seen that girl before but he’d been told there were new characters this season, so she must be one of them. She’s pretty and around his age, maybe a love interest. She’s also on her phone so she must be waiting for this new makeup artist too.

Who’s nowhere to be seen apparently.

“Not very professional is she?” He jokes, sitting a couple chairs away from her and taking off his jacket.

She jumps a little, obviously not expecting him. Immediately she turns off her phone and tucks it in her jean pocket, looking at him very confused “Sorry?”

He points behind them, where no one is “The new makeup girl, or woman, I guess. Not very professional to be absent on her first day.”

She frowns “Actually-“

“But what do I know? The big guys hired her. She’s probably sucking up to them, figuratively or literally, cause she must be sleeping with one of them to make them fire Angela. She was the best, really, if you’d met her you’d love her. But she’s gone, so we’ll make do with whoever this is, if she shows up that is.” He shrugs, getting comfortable on the chair.

“Unbelievable.” she scoffs.

“Right?” Steve smiles. At last, someone who gets his indignation. It doesn’t hurt that she’s hot, but really, he needed a friend here.

Maybe this is the subject they relate to, and because of this mutual annoyance they end up with a beautiful friendship. Or something more. He hasn’t had action in a while.

You know what they say, nothing brings people closer than a common enemy.

He glimpses through the mirror the new plaque on the wall behind him, reading it out loud. “Wow, even her name sounds pretentious.” He looks at her with a smirk “I’m Steve by the way, what’s your name?”

————————————————————————

Frankie, the older black woman who introduced herself earlier as the hair magician, shouts your name before opening the door to the trailer “Hi honey, I don’t wanna rush you but he has to be ready in 5 minutes.” She nods to Steve.

“It’s alright, tell Erik I’ll be quick.” You pick up your face palette and start mixing shades to get Steve’s color.

Steve fucking Harrington. Who with a quick glance, you can see is shocked to learn you’re the woman he’s been shit-talking about. What an asshole.

You were actually excited to work with him. He was your favorite character in the show and after watching some of the cast’s interviews, you kinda became his fan.

Not anymore.

“Wait. You’re-“ He frowns, trying to understand just how bad he’s fucked up.

“The slut who’s sucked off her way here? In the flesh” You give him a sarcastic smile, before dropping it completely and turning his chair around, facing you.

“I- I thought…”

You start applying light concealer on the reddening areas of his face, not including the blush he’s now sporting. “That I wasn’t her? No shit.”

You continue working under his eyes, making him avoid staring at you.

“You could’ve told me.” he mutters, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I tried, you were pretty passionate on the subject.”

You thank whoever made the schedule for filming a natural look today, because if you spend much more time with him alone, you can’t promise he’ll come out alive. And it’s not a good look for your first day of work.

He looks down apologetically, feeling guilty for his words in the heat of the moment “Look… I’m sorry for saying what I said, I’m having a really-“

“Shut up.” you cut him off.

He looks taken aback, frowning and looking up to stare at you “Excuse me?”

“Stop talking, I’m trying to do my job.” You mutter nonchalantly, giving him the last touches under his lower lip.

He’s still processing, a disoriented look taking over his face, cause there’s no way someone’s talked to him that way, not after he became who he is now at least.

You put all the makeup back in its place and turn around to face him one last time, “There you go Mona Lisa, you can leave now.” You clap his cheek a couple times without applying pressure, just to piss him off, and point to the door behind him.

He’s still speechless when he leaves the trailer, and when he finishes shooting, and even that night at home, with a slice of greasy pizza between his teeth, he can’t seem to shake off the way you acted, the way you talked to him. It’s like you couldn’t care less about him.

It infuriates him.

It infuriates him so much he spends all night tossing and turning, thinking about you. Cause if you want to play like this, then game on, you have no idea what you started.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

hi babe can i request an auston matthews x reader, where reader stays over at auston’s for the first time and he gives her one of his tee’s to sleep in and it’s so big that it swallows her and auston just loves it and becomes obsessed with her wearing his clothes?🤭🫣

— i love your writing and thank you for continuing to bless me/us with papi content💞

I hope I've given you what you wanted, bby! 🥹🥹🥹 And always happy to write Auston stuff! 🩷🩷🩷

"You're welcome to stay the night, Y|N. I don't think the storm's going to pass anytime soon, but it's up to you."

You were sitting cross-legged on the sofa, scrolling through your phone at pictures that you had taken from tonight's game. You hadn't even taken into account the storm raging outside Auston's house until he had said something about it. Sure, you had heard the booming thunder, but it was comforting background noise, and you were also reviewing videos you had taken of Auston, so your mind was obviously elsewhere.

"What, sorry?"

Your expression made him smile, like he had caught you doing something you shouldn't have. "Whatcha doing over there?"

"Absolutely nothing! Definitely not cringing at the amount of space you're taking up in my gallery!"

"Oh, is that so?" His smirk was dangerous as he crossed the room to you, wasting no time pinning you against the sofa. "You wanna show me?"

You were laughing, feigning helplessness against him laying over you like he was. "Show you what?"

"Uh-huh, right!" Playfully, he tried to take your phone from you, but you pressed it against your chest. "Saving them for later, are we?"

You blushed, even though he wasn't right. It was the mere implication of what you were going to do with them that made you embarrassed. "Pfft! No!"

"Riiiight," he teased, pulling himself off of you, leaving you laying there, still giggling.

"What did you say though?" You asked, finally dragging yourself back to a seated position. "I honestly didn't hear you."

"I asked you if you wanted to stay because of the storm.”

You were slightly taken aback by what Auston had proposed. Not in a bad way, but that he didn't mind having you stay. "You don't care?"

"Of course not. I don't really want you out in this shit."

"Or you don't want to take me home in it?"

Auston gave you a side-eye before he cracked, "Hey now, I didn't say that!"

You'd wink as a reply, “I don't want to get out in either, so if you don't mind me staying, I wouldn't say no."

“You’re more than welcome to. Now, I don’t think any of my sweats would fit you,” he laughed. “But I’m sure I’ve a t-shirt you could wear.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

Auston gave you a soft smile after seeing you yawn, “You wanna go upstairs?”

“Yes, please.!”

Auston would wait until you got up to move, “Not I’m curious how you’d look in my pants. Let me clarify what I said earlier.”

You snorted, “That’s quite the thought! I could probably get both of my legs in one pant leg!”

“Heh, you probably could!”

- - -

Upstairs, you’d sit on the edge of his king-sized bed, legs swinging while he took an extended amount of time just looking for a t-shirt. You had no idea what was taking him so long, unless he was looking for one that wasn’t from a designer brand, to which you couldn’t blame him. Auston was the first guy you’d ever be with who cared so much for his appearance and how he styled himself. It was refreshing and fun to have someone who enjoyed fashion and things like that, though sometimes you felt like you always had to match his energy or else you felt frumpy and out of place.

“Here, I think this one should work.” He said as he handed you the purple shirt. “If you’re not warm enough I’ve long sleeves and hoodies.”

“I’m sure this is fine. Thanks!” After thanking him, you’d slip into his ensuite bathroom and change your clothes.

You had to keep yourself from laughing, seeing yourself in the large mirror. The hem of the shirt was at your knees, and the intended short sleeves were now past your elbows. The whole time you were folding your clothes, you were trying to muster the courage to go back into the bedroom. For whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by how you looked, even though it was just to sleep in -- this wasn’t clubwear. Eventually, you’d shuffle back into the bedroom, yearning for sleep. When you got back into the room, you’d find Auston not there. You weren’t sure where he had gone, so you just kind of stood there, rocking back and forth on your feet until he came back.

“My god, you’re adorable,” Auston said, wandering back in from his walk-in closet, which took you by surprise.

“Oh?”

“You look so little,” he laughed, stepping up to you. “It’s a cute look. I wouldn’t be upset if you ‘borrowed’ a few things of mine if you look that cute wearing them.”

“Ha, like borrowed without the intent of giving the back?!”

“Pretty much that, yeah,” his smirk flashed deviousness before it softened. “C’mon, I’ve kept you up long enough. Do you want to stay in here with me, or one of the guest rooms?”

You looked at Auston softly, “I’ll stay with you.”

He smiled upon hearing your quiet voice, “I’ll warn you: if I get you in my arms, I won’t let go until the morning.”

[lovelybucky1]

2.Chapter Meeting

wc- 2.1k // main masterlist // go greek masterlist // 18+ minors dni

When you arrived for the chapter meeting, Steve gave you a tour of the house. You got a brief one from Joaquin during your interview, but this one was much more thorough. The living and dining rooms were pretty average and the kitchen was lacking anything of substance but filled to the brim with alcohol, mixers, and snacks. The basement has three ratty couches, a TV with a video game console, and a beer pong table with the names of the champions of each year written on it.

Upstairs is where the bedrooms are. Each room was pointed out to you, but the only one you got to see inside of was Steve and Bucky’s. You learn that they’ve been best friends since elementary school and have always been inseparable. As you get to know Steve, you don’t blame Bucky for always wanting him around. Their place is unexpectedly nice; clean and only a bit disorganized, but that’s mostly on Bucky’s side. There are textbooks piled on both of their desks and Steve has sketches and paintings all over his side, both hung on the wall and littered around. Their room doesn’t smell like sweaty athletes, but a warm, masculine scent that you want to wrap yourself up in. 

He lets you sit on his bed and look through his books, cheerfully answers your questions about his art, and watches as you admire his trophies and medals. He left the bedroom door open out of respect for you, and so the other guys didn’t wonder what you were up to in there. The downside is the open door acts as an open invitation to guests.

“Hey, Steve-” You turn around to see the man you recognize as Sam, the vice president, standing in the doorway. “Sorry, man, didn’t know you had a guest.”

Before Sam can back out of the room, Steve introduces you. You haven’t had the chance to meet all the guys yet, but that’s the goal of today’s chapter meeting. Sam, clearly an extrovert, jumps right into a conversation, asking you all kinds of questions about your major, your clubs, and your friends. Sam is charming, funny, and outwardly flirts with you. If it was anyone else, you might feel uncomfortable, but Sam is as respectful as he is bold.

You forgot Steve was still in the room until he made his presence clear. “We should get downstairs. The meeting starts in five,” he says. 

You don’t sense any inkling of jealousy between Steve and Sam which is both surprising and refreshing. The three of you leave the room with you between them. If you stepped too close to the left, you’d brush hands with Steve, but if you stepped too close to the right, you’d bump into Sam’s thick arms. You’re stuck walking a perfectly straight line down the center of the hallway to keep an appropriate distance from both of them.

When you get downstairs, you find the others already waiting for you. The living room has been converted into a meeting space; extra chairs have been brought in, the coffee table has been cleared of cans, plates, and other garbage, and all of the brothers are present. 

To your surprise, there are some familiar faces in the room. Wade Wilson from your film analysis class wears the letters proudly on his chest as he sits curled up against the arm of the couch. Joaquin and Bucky are there, of course, sitting in chairs closer to the TV. There are two empty chairs near them and a free space in the middle of the couch. 

Sam takes his seat between Bucky and Joaquin and you awkwardly sit on the couch as Steve takes his place at the front of the room. Wade is on your left, and to your right is a large, very grumpy-looking man who seems like he’s sitting as far away from Wade as possible. 

There’s another guy in the armchair with a high and tight haircut, a crooked nose, and a deep furrow between his eyebrows. The last brother standing near the front looks familiar; you recognize his dark sunglasses from your first-semester stats class. He’s attractive, and you remember thinking that he was way out of your league when you saw him for the first time.

“Thanks for coming everyone,” Steve starts. “Before we get to the typical meeting stuff, I have a very special announcement. I would like to introduce our new sweetheart,” he says, beaming at you. All heads in the room turn toward you. You sheepishly smile and give a small wave to the men. “She’s going to act as our social chair, run our social media, and generally take care of all the things that us guys aren’t so good at.”

Everyone chuckles quietly, all nodding in agreement. You’re not a big fan of the slightly misogynistic message that women are better at planning parties and making things look pretty, but looking around, none of these guys seem like the poster-making, cookie-baking type.

“Do you want to come up and introduce yourself?” Steve asks.

You take a deep breath and stand up from the couch, smoothing out your shirt. It’s a little intimidating to be standing in front of all of these very attractive men. You wonder why you’ve never seen guys like this anywhere else on campus, but you figure they’ve all been hiding out at the SAE house.

“Hi, everyone,” you smile. “I’m a sophomore and I’m an English major. I’m in a bunch of clubs on campus and I really loved getting involved, which is why I was interested in this position. I live here on campus and I spend most of my time at the library or on the green,” at that, some of the guys share a look. “I don’t really party much, but Joaquin promised me he would show me the ropes.” Joaquin grins, looking extremely proud to be the one to be your party mentor. “I’m really excited to get to know all of you and make this semester great for SAE.”

You look over to Sam who gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up. You can’t help the small giggle that escapes your lips as you move to sit back down. Steve takes his place again at the front of the room.

“The four of us,” Steve gestures to Bucky, Joaquin, and Sam, “put together a little welcome basket to officially mark you as a member.”

Joaquin stands up and brings a basket, stuffed full of clothing, candy, and other goodies. You stare at it, wide-eyed as it sits in your lap, completely overwhelmed. You were not at all expecting them to be so thoughtful. Everyone has been very nice to you so far, but you’re not naive. You know to some extent, they think of you as a piece of eye candy to have around in the house, but this shows that maybe you could be more. Maybe you could be their friend.

You pull out a purple sweatshirt with the letters embroidered in yellow fabric across the chest. It looks to be your size, which surprises you because you didn’t think they made frat sweatshirts in women’s sizes.

“How did you get this so quickly?” you ask Steve.

“Wade made them,” he says.

You look to your left and give Wade a surprised and confused look. “What? God forbid a guy dabbles in the fiber arts,” he says, raising his hands.

You laugh and look through the rest of the shirts. They’re surprisingly cute and you have to give Wade credit for having an eye for fashion. At the bottom of the basket, beneath the candy and the letter necklace, is a card. The envelope is a pale yellow and has your name written in script across the front. You recognize the handwriting as Steve’s from the sketches in his room and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him writing you a letter.

“Open it,” Joaquin urges. 

Smiling, you untuck the paper flap of the envelope and pull out the card. The front doesn’t have any words, but there is a bouquet of flowers painted in watercolor. Inside, Steve’s handwriting fills the left side of the page.

Sweetheart,

We’re so excited for you to join our brotherhood and to get to know you. You’re part of the family now and you have eight guys to back you up no matter what. We’re going to rely on you for a lot of things around here, but we want you to know you can lean on us too. 

The right side of the page has the signatures of all the guys. Even from what the little you know about them, you can tell their handwriting is reflective of their personalities. Bucky’s has a cheeky xo next to it, while Wade’s is made up of thick lines and heavy strokes. 

You smile and look around at everyone. “Thanks, guys. This is all… really great.”

Your eyes meet Bucky’s and he shoots you a quick wink that has no right making you feel as flustered as it does. 

The meeting progresses, moving on to general housekeeping stuff that you’re not very familiar with. It doesn’t take too much longer until Steve is wrapping up the meeting and encouraging everyone to mingle and get to know you.

Wade immediately captures your attention, talking to you about the latest movie the Film Club watched. He was just getting around to praising the cinematography when the guy with the sunglasses came up next to you, touching your arm gently.

You excuse yourself and introduce yourself to the man, who you learn is named Matt.

“I think you were in my-”

“Stats class,” he finishes. You’re surprised he remembered you, all things considered, but he explains before you have the opportunity to ask. “I recognized your perfume.” If it was anyone else, that statement would have struck you as odd, maybe a little invasive, but Matt’s sweet smile and the feeling on his hand on your arm gives you a different feeling. “It smells nice,” he adds, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. “It’s very pretty. I’ve just never smelled anything like it before.”

He talks to you about being the student body vice president and his involvement with the Model UN. He clearly is passionate about the law and wants to help people, and you admire that about him. It’s not often you find college guys with real drive.

Matt is funny and sweet, and his hold on your arm, however gentle, distracts you. There’s a break in the conversation and you notice that everyone else is still hanging around in the living room, waiting to talk to you. You have no idea how much time you spent talking to Matt, but he seems to realize he was talking up your time and steps away with a smile and a squeeze of your arm.

Before you could find an unfamiliar face to talk to, Bucky walks up to you with a cocky smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says.

“I thought I was supposed to be meeting new people? We’ve already met,” you say, feeling unusually bold. Maybe all of this attention is going to your head.

“Met, sure, but we didn’t get to know each other. Steve’s a real selfish bastard when it comes to pretty girls,” he says. 

Bucky calling you pretty surprises you. You knew he must think so if he was flirting with you, but saying it outright is different. But he might just be a flirt and none of this really means anything.

“Then why don’t you tell me about yourself, Bucky?” you ask.

You learn that Bucky is an engineering major, specializing in prosthetics. He talks about math and science and while most of the more complicated things go over your head, you still find it impressive. You’ve always had more of a knack for writing but you’ve gotten by in the more technical classes. 

Bucky has a little sister who is starting her freshman year at Stark University. She lives in the building next door to you and you tell him that if she ever needs any help, she can always reach out. It’s clear that he is very close with his sister, and he appreciates the offer. 

Throughout the conversation, Bucky calls you various pet names. Sweetheart, baby, honey, doll. It should bother you, it would bother you if they didn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips. And he’s standing so close to you but you don’t have it in you to create some distance. Even if you did, you wouldn’t be surprised if he followed you.

You still have more people to meet, but based on the look in Bucky’s eyes, he isn’t going to let you talk to anyone else anytime soon. He loves to be the center of attention, it seems. 

[peachesnpears95]

NAH, THE FANDOM NEEDS TO DO BETTER - IN ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT'S HAPPENING ON SCREEN! INSTEAD OF BLINDLY THROWING OUT BLAME BETWEEN WUKONG AND MACAQUE!

I am just done with this; I try to be as chill and as agreeable with people as possible and try to see other people's viewpoints, and try to get behind their thoughts and opinions as best I can- but no more. I'm sick of this Macaque slander and defamation.

THIS ENDS NOW.

Alright so, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on the whole fandom! I'm taking Wukong AND Macaque away from y'all until you can play nice and stop bashing on both of them and misunderstanding their characters and saying foul things that are untrue and is utter character- assassination.

Neither of them deserves it!

But right now, we're talking about Macaque, I'll probably talk about Wukong at a later date- but for now we focus on Macaque.

So, let's get into it.

I have to disagree with this person for several reasons.

Forgive me if this seems hostile, I am just very passionate and I am in no way trying to start a fandom war. I just can't sit back and watch Macaque get slandered, misunderstood and treated like he's the worse of the worst by the fandom anymore.

I'm sorry but I have to step in and say something, because I would be remise if I didn't and I can't STAND to see something like this floating around, perpetuating that Macaque is some type of fucking abusive, vindictive, and evil character that hasn't tried to be better or make amends in any way shape or form- because it's not true at all.

"Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims"

^^^

my fucking whole ass, no.

I am sorry op but this is a fucking shit take and completely and utterly false and wrong.

All Macaque has done SINCE being freed from the LBD's control is work to be BETTER and make amends through his actions- and y'all and many other ppl of the fandom are really gonna go and ignore all of it?

SERIOUSLY?!?!

NAHHHH! NAHHHHH NAHHHHHHH! Macaque has risked his life for the others multiple times, and put himself in danger over and over again for not only MK, and Wukong but also for the others too. Just because we don't see him VERBALLY apologize on screen, doesn't mean his actions don't speak. There are so many instances where Macaque's actions speak LOUDER than words ever could or will. You can SAY things, but unless you actually DO something to back those words up- they will mean nothing.

If Macaque hadn't finally broken free from the LBD and went up against Wukong and put his life on the line to keep him distracted, then MK and the others would have been fucked.

Also, you all realize that Macaque's HEART was never in playing the big bad villain, even MK said as much. Macaque only did those things to survive. The LBD held his life over his head and told him to fucking DANCE with death. Macaque was backed into a corner, with nowhere to go, and no allies on his side to help him.

He was literally all alone, trying to keep himself alive. Macaque bringing the mayor to the LMK gang should speak volumes on Macaque's TRUE character. Macaque is a complex, morally gray character, and it sucks to see posts like this paining him in such a black/white way.

Macaque was an unwilling shadow puppet for the LBD, and he only did what he thought he had to, in order to survive. Because who was he going to turn to for help? It's like when you back a caged animal into a corner, they're going to bite. Don't you lie to me and say you wouldn't do about anything to survive, even if it meant having to do things that weren't 100% morally correct. Like if you were pushed far enough, if your life was on the razor's edge, wouldn't you fight for it?

Like yes he hurt people, yes he threatened Mei, yes he did a lot of fucked up things- were they right? NO. But it's understandable why he did what he did, he WANTED to live.

Like should he have just given the fuck up and died, again? Is that what you wanted from him? Cause that's fucked up. He's literally a victim (just like everyone else) and was being used and abused by the Lady Bone Demon. He had his freedom and agency taken away from him unwillingly and forced to fight to survive.

But the SECOND he gets free from the LBD's grasp. What does he do? He HELPS MK and the others. He chooses to stay and fight with them. Chooses to BE BETTER and help RIGHT the wrongs he (unwillingly) played a part in. And he does this knowing Wukong is waiting for him. The very person who killed him. He fights Wukong even though he's terrified, and this time he's willing to risk his life, because he actually CARES about Wukong and MK both. They're probably the two people he cares for the most at this point and he's willing to die freely just to save them.

He doesn't really have much of a relationship with the others at the time, but he knows they're important to Wukong and MK, so he also risks everything to help them too.

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Then he helped MK go into the scroll -reliving memories that were probably as painful for him to relive (as they were for Wukong) but he did it anyways, to help find Wukong and bring him back. Which I might add was the final push Wukong NEEDED to get out of the scroll.

And then he helped Mei fight Peng to give everyone else a chance to do what THEY needed to do in the plan, so Wukong and MK could get to Azure.

Making sure it went off without a hitch, risking HIMSELF like how everyone else was risking themselves.

Peng wasn't fucking playing, that bird was aiming to kill with those strikes. Peng even called Macaque out.

Asking him if there was nothing Wukong could do that could break his hold over him. And the answer is NO. Not even DEATH broke that hold.

Macaque is ride or die for Wukong still, and would risk his life for Wukong's sake -even though Wukong is an immortal being who can't die- I'll BET MY GRAVE AND ANYTHING ELSE, THIS! Macaque would throw himself in front of Wukong to shield him just because he cares so much about him. He would also probably do it for MK too, in fact he DOES put himself at risk for MK later on to try and save him from himself, and we will get into that soon!

_ _ _ _ _

And then later down the line he let the others escape Ling Ji's prison by literally putting himself in the line of fire and letting himself get captured instead! He SHADOW TELEPORTS THEM OUT BECAUSE HE KNOWS THEY WON'T GO IF HE DIDN'T.

THEN HE DOESN'T RUN OFF, HE STAYS THERE TO BUY THEM TIME. MACAQUE STAYS TO FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF PUTTING HIMSELF ON ThE LINE. HE CHARGES STRIGHT FORWARD LIKE A WARRIOR WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHAT IS WAITING FOR HIM!

HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT IS COMING! ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN TO HIM/ANYTHING COULD BE WAITING FOR HIM IN THERE. BUT HE STANDS HIS GROUND.

And then when Wukong is being tormented by the 100 eyed demon? Macaque doesn't even HESITATE to help him from the 100 eyed demon's control. HE IMMEDIATELY comes to Wukong's side to free him so they can go find MK.

He was also the one to strike out at the 100 eyed demon when they DID find MK. Mei might have threatened the demon first, but Macaque was the one that just went STRAIGHT to strikes.

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AND THEN- Tell me who is it that uses his shadow powers over and over against the 9 Headed Demon, trying to protect MK the only way he can while he's literally tied up and was the ONLY one who could ACTUALLY do anything about it?

And who was the one that BROKE out of the chaos powers to KEEP MK from throwing himself into the pillar initially- oh that's right, Macaque!

Look at him, Macaque is GENUINELY fucking terrified.

Because he's seen this happen before, with himself. Macaque has been in MK's position before. An emotional spiral of self-destruction that ended up with him dead.

Macaque KNOWS from experience because HE LITERALLY went through the same thing before. And didn't have anyone to let him know that not EVERYTHING was on him. That he didn't have to be alone and do things by himself. That he could have found a better way, a different way. A path that wouldn't have led him attacking the Pilgrims and Wukong- and then right into the grave.

Macaque knows what's happening, he has since the start of S5.

Macaque let himself spiral in the past due to feeling neglected emotionally, and he went down a path of self-destruction that ended up with him dead (he even says as such in the show during s4) when he was talking about Wukong meeting Tang Sanzang.

Macaque has had to WATCH MK go through the same fucking thing here as he did.

He KNEW at the start nothing good would come of MK's spiral.

That's WHY he told Wukong to be better, because he was speaking from past experience. (Not to be spiteful or vindictive or whatever.)

Macque was truly concerned for MK and he doesn't want what happened between him and Wukong to happen between MK and Wukong- because he cares about the Kid so much even if he doesn't say it.

Wukong has been shown time and time again he's not the best at reading people, and that sometimes he prefers to cheekily brush things off without really listening to anyone else, only getting tunnel-focused on the task and hand.

And forgetting to really listen to the concerns of his friends/family, because he is just focusing on protecting them instead of actually taking their thoughts/feelings/emotions into consideration. ((We can also see this during the Samadhi fire arc, where he keeps the fourth ring a secret- MEI EVEN CALLS HIM OUT FOR IT))

I am not saying that Wukong doesn't care, he in fact cares a lot, but he just forgets to actually let the people he cares for ACTUALLY know.

This is what happened to Macaque.

Wukong brushed off his feelings every time he tried to voice his concerns, or ignored him, instead of actually listening to him. He unintentionally neglected Macaque's feelings as he sought out immortality and to take down the Jade Emperor.

Macaque isn't just pulling this from nowhere. This is a fucking pattern form Wukong, we see it on screen, we see him do this. Unintentional or not, Wukong neglected Macaque's emotions and made him feel like he meant NOTHING to Wukong. This is what Macaque has been afraid of since getting to know MK, that MK would end up being neglected just like him. Remember his shadow play? "The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero." "Well, with ol' Monkey King not around, I thought someone should teach you a lesson. Ah, MK, you really are dense, aren't you? You saw a story about a hero who got handed everything, who didn't have to work for anything, and you thought you were the other guy? The second the Hero got real power; he couldn't care less about his friends. That's you, bud."

"Oh, did you just realize they were missing? Classic hero maneuver. Maybe it's just me but these guys don't look too happy about being left in the shadow of the great Monkie Kid."

Everyone thinks Macaque is lying or embellishing, but he's not.

Not really, he's just showing it from his perspective, which is the only one he's got- speaking from his past experiences about how he was unintentionally left feeling neglected.

Macaque was quite literally projecting his own emotional neglect onto MK. To Macaque, Wukong forgot who/why he was doing all of that for. He felt abandoned and cast aside by Wukong. Because Wukong never listened, he brushed off his feelings, and it obviously left Macaque with emotional scars, due to his best friend's neglect.

Wukong did WRONG by Macaque, by accidentally neglecting him.

This is what Macaque has started fearing for MK, why he's so tough on Wukong to be better, because he can SEE it. He can see what happened to himself, happening to MK. The Kid is on a path of self-destruction, and if he doesn't say or do anything, then the past will happen ALL OVER again. This is why Macaque was rightfully fucking angry and pissed off when he asked Wukong if he ever once questioned why MK had all his powers and could lift his staff, and where he even came from. All because Macaque doesn't want a repeat of the past. He doesn't want MK's emotions to spiral out of control and lead him down a dark path that might end up in his death.

Macaque has come to genuinely love and care for MK and doesn't want him to THROW his life away. HE EVEN BEGS - and LOOKS and SOUNDS like he's going to CRY when he's trying to stop MK. He's so desperate to save MK from himself, because no one TRIED saving him- no one CARED enough to. But MK has so many people who care, and he needs to know that! MK NEEDS TO KNOW IT'S NOT ALL ON HIM!

Macaque has BEEN HERE before. He has LIVED this. He KNOWS how it will END.

He's trying so hard because he cares about MK. and he knows Wukong does too, and the others. And he can't just like MK do this- Macaque CAN'T let MK do what he did and destroy himself.

Then who is it that uses his shadow powers AGAIN to free EVERYONE! So Wukong can go after MK- AH RIGHT MACAQUE! Macaque isn't even concerned about himself in the moment, he doesn't care how he's feeling, doesn't give himself a second thought. All he needs is for someone to go after MK - because he can't fucking do it in his current condition.

Selflessly, Macaque rejects Wukong's concern (what he's wanted for centuries, the thing he's truly wanted most- for Wukong to actually show genuine concern over his wellbeing, without trying to play it off and be cheeky/brush it off- to actually be serious) all in favor of telling Wukong to LEAVE and stop MK.

Macaque WAS right all along what would happen if things continued like they were.

He truly saw the real and deep extent of MK's self-destruction before ANYONE else- before Wukong, or his other family/friends. The others were concerned, sure, but they didn't understand the true severity of it, not until MK is about to sacrifice himself.

But Macaque, deep down, understood where this might lead MK. That MK might fall from the edge, with no one to catch him. Which is why he was so desperate to catch MK as he fell, because no one caught him when he did!

Macaque's spiral destroyed him, he knows what it's like. He lived through what MK did. He lived the path of self-destruction centuries ago. Macaque saw himself in MK, and feared where it would lead MK. Feared he would do something that got himself killed.

AND IT DID!

MK DID jump into the pillar, because he still believed he had to do it alone, that it was all on him. MK went down the path that Macaque did, and he almost DIED for it. (in fact, technically he WAS dead, if you think about it)

Macaque never wanted this for MK, because he knows what it's like to die, then come back to life. The physical wounds might have healed, but mentally and emotionally?

MK might have come back physically fine, but his mental and emotional state will NEVER be the same again. He and Macaque have both DIED and come back to life- changed forever. Physically they are fine, but mentally and emotionally?

They will BOTH be scarred with that for the rest of their lives.

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Macaque HAS changed and HAS become a better person- and it sucks that his efforts have been downplayed by the fandom, all because he doesn't just say a stupid fucking word?

"sorry?"

HEAVENS HELP ME!

Macaque has done nothing but selflessly risk himself, time and time again, since he worked for the LBD. He has worked to make amends through his actions.

He's made it CLEAR that he cares about Wukong, MK and the others, and he will fight alongside them, and hell if he has to- he would DIE alongside them. He hasn't run from a fight once since he's started fighting alongside them. He's THERE, through thick and thin, and he would push himself beyond the breaking point to protect them.

What better way is there for him to make amends/show his remorse than show he's willing to do whatever it takes to protect the LMK gang?

To Macaque, words are NOT enough. There's nothing he can say that would make things better. So, like a warrior, he takes action instead and shows -instead of tells- the others that he's sorry, and he is willing to stand by them and fight.

It wouldn't hurt for him to say sorry verbally, no.

But what the fuck is he even supposed to say: Hey, sorry for almost fucking killing all of you back then?

It would be so awkward of him to say, and it probably wouldn't even SOUND sincere, even if it actually was. I understand people wanting a verbal apology, but being SORRY doesn't always mean JUST saying sorry.

You can BE and SAY sorry all you damn well want to, but it means FUCK all if you don't show you are with actions and with change, and Macaque has done BOTH in leaps and bounds.

Being sorry means you back it up with actions, and with change.

You do better.

And Macaque HAS been!

Macaque understands full well he fucked up, he's not stupid, and he faces the consequences of that by having to work every day to show the others he's changed.

Macaque will ALWAYS have to live with the guilt of what he's done in the past. Is that not fucking punishment enough? Do some of y'all in the fandom have to fucking bash him at every fucking turn possible? Frankly, I'm done sitting by and watching Macaque be misunderstood, misjudged and hated on, because some of you people are as blind as the fucking brotherhood when they wrongfully blamed Wukong for everything going wrong and not holding themselves accountable for their actions.

Macaque does in fact, hold himself accountable, by doing everything he possibly can to protect and fight alongside the LMK Gang. Macaque is trying, and his story isn't over yet.

The fandom is judging him unfairly (as they do with Wukong as well) and failing to consider the nuance, the subtext, and the complexity of Macaque and his character- and just painting him as this one dimensional, obsessive, abusive, and loathsome character.

MACAQUE'S STORY/CHARACTER ARC HASN'T EVEN CONCLUDED YET, AND YOU'RE ALL STILL SITTING HERE CURSING HIS NAME LIKE HE'S A SCOURGE!

WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS?! Also like, the characters in the show seem to have already forgiven Macaque (or ARE on the verge of)- so like, why can't we all fucking do the same?!

Has Macaque not suffered enough from dying, being revived, used and abused, and then risking himself and his life over and over for the LMK Gang (Showing he's changed from selfishly seeking self-preservation.)

Seriously Macaque went from an I only want to survive mindset, to a mindset of- I will die for Wukong, MK and their family/friends if I must.

Macaque really sells himself short, saying he isn't a Hero. But is that not what heroes do? Do they not forgo themselves and the threat to their life- to save others. Which is what Macaque has been doing ever since the LBD Arc.

Just how many more times must Macaque risk his life to prove he's changed to the fandom? To prove he has regrets/remorse for what he's done? What does Macaque have to do for some of the fandom to stop treating him like the spawn of fucking evil? Does he have to DIE again for you lot to be satisfied?

I cannot take this Macaque slander and hatred anymore. I am sick to death of it. I'm usually not this fucking mad, but this post ENRAGED me.

Op I promise I do not hate you.

I just HATE what you wrote and put out there, because it's simply not at all true or correct, and Macaque already gets enough misplaced hatred.

(if you want to block me, I don't blame you. I just needed to get this off my chest and your post just made it all come to a head.)

I am not defending Macaque simply because I think he's hot/can do no wrong/is perfect uwu baby victim. No, I understand Macaque for his faults. I know he's done wrong, I know he's not a perfect victim.

But he's NOT who you're making him out to be either. He has changed, and has done better.

Can't we just PLEASE acknowledge this?!

Seriously, I'm at my limit, I cannot fucking take it anymore. GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!

If I pissed some of you people in the fandom off, then just fucking block me. I don't care. Just don't engage with me. I don't want to interact with people who can't even see that y'all are wrong about Macaque and he doesn't deserve half the fucking hatred he gets! Just because he isn't what you want him to be, or act how you want him to act, or say what you want him to say- doesn't make him a poorly written character. He's just flawed, messy, complex, and makes mistakes in LMK like everyone else, and I'm sick of people demonizing him.

I am revoking the fandom's right to play with Wukong and Macaque for the time being, until the fandom can learn some media fucking literacy, look beyond the surface level, and learn to be SHOWN THINGS AND PAY ATTENTION and not just be handheld and told things and to think for your god damn selves and actually use your noodles!

MOMOCHI KID OUT!

“You need to do better.”

(This gets vitriolic, and is a full-blown criticism of Macaque’s portrayal in Season Four and Five. If criticism of a character/franchise you like upsets you, I do not recommend reading.)

Wow. I had no faith in his character writing, and I’m STILL disappointed.

And it only took one episode! How impressive!

Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims, is criticizing Wukong for being a bad mentor! And does Wukong criticize him back? NOPE!

After getting screamed at and berated, does Wukong defend himself? NOPE!

Ooh, but there was a second long reference in a dual yelling match that mentioned that Macaque was a genuinely bad person who took glee in hurting innocent people! Oh, fucking delightful! Ooh, Wukong even points out in one episode that Macaque goes without consequences!

Pointing out a flaw in your writing does not make it less of a flaw.

Macaque will always be allowed to do whatever he wants to anyone he wants- power theft, attempted murder, insults, deceit, assault-

And the narrative and characters will never hold him accountable or force Macaque to look inwards or become a better person.

Macaque will always fall upwards into redemption without any obstacles or pushback.

There will never be a struggle to goodness with a satisfying conclusion. There will never be a moment where falters in his newfound goodness and questions going back to his old ways. There will never be explicit remorse or regret. He will never have deep introspections on his crimes and atrocities that provide a reason for him to want to change.

The sum of his “arc” will always be “you were a good guy all along”, and that lack of depth is where it will stay.

RIP Seasons 1-3 Macaque. You were fun and interesting and cool and lovable.

But the man they replaced you with was destined to be a boring and brooding “anti-hero” who has no real connection to the actions you selfishly and violently performed with your own two hands-

And you will always be a less interesting character for it.

The execution of the actual arc boils down to a single heroic (but ultimately self-serving) moment and then Macaque is immediately forgiven for all the crimes he’s committed and is a magically better person without any effort and nothing he’s done is ever brought up again.

It severely weakens any character’s arc to cut them off from their past actions. If MK forgot his traumas every season instead of carrying them forward- we’d all agree that doing so was a case of poor writing.

It was the reason that people disliked Mei’s portrayal in Season Four- she immediately moved on from the Samadhi Fire arc and “no longer wielded it” after spending a whole season gathering and learning to use it.

Why can’t we agree that it’s bad for Macaque, too?

You can’t “develop” a character by dropping an entire plotline and writing it off with one line.

You can’t “redeem” a character by pretending that they were a good person right from the start.

Sorry, bud.

I really did like you. I just wish I could like your writing.

——————

And, what is more clear to me now than ever?

People only defended Macaque’s shitty writing because they think he’s hot.

I know this now, because I’ve seen white-hot Li Jing arc hatred from fervent Macaque arc defenders.

So we all agree that an “I didn’t really mean it!” isn’t an excuse to abuse the people around you? That you don’t get to mistreat innocent people just because you’re stressed and upset?

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I wonder why people despise Jing for his dogshit “one nice thing redeems all your bad actions” arc but love Macaque for his??

(Because they think the monkey is hot.)

The funny thing, though?

Li Jing apologizes to at least one of the victims of his actions. He expresses regret and remorse.

Macaque doesn’t even have that.

——————

Anyways here’s a line that I hate because Macaque has in no way developed enough to have the right to deliver it-

AND NO, SUDDENLY HAVING AN AFFINITY FOR PERFORMING KIND OR SACRIFICIAL ACTS IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

HIM MAGICALLY OFFSCREEN BECOMING A GOOD PERSON WHO CARES ABOUT INNOCENT LIFE IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

IF ALL IT TAKES TO “BE BETTER” IS ACTING LIKE A HERO, WUKONG IS LITERALLY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER OF A PERSON THAN HE IS

THIS LINE IS DOGSHIT

“You need to do better.”

Really, Macaque? Maybe you should take your own damn advice- try apologizing to one of the people you tried to hurt and tried to murder in cold blood!

Like when you trapped MK under his staff after stealing his powers and tried to murder him when he was helpless?

Or when you kidnapped MK’s friends and tortured the kid by forcing him to fight them?

Or you led a violent assault against a palace full of innocent people?

Or violently beat his dear friends until they were screaming in pain?

Or assaulted Tang, who posed no threat to you?

Or threatened to murder an innocent girl if you didn’t get your way, then ran away (and encouraged MK to abandon her) first thing when it put her into a life-threatening meltdown of raw power?

(Isn’t it cool how NONE of these people have interesting or varied reactions to him doing this and ALL immediately are cool with him like a gelatinous hivemind.)

(Oooh ONE mildly questioning line from Pigsy but no anger over his adoptive son nearly being killed multiple times over)

(Isn’t it cool that no one has complex or interesting thoughts on this.)

(Isn’t it cool that by robbing them of unique feelings on the matter they robbed Macaque and the Monkie Kids of compelling and interesting interactions that could’ve helped flesh out their personalities and strengthen their characterization.)

(Isn’t it cool that Macaque and the Monkie Kids are actively denied intriguing character dynamics so Macaque’s shitty “redemption arc” can happen faster.)

(Isn’t that cool.)

Why don’t YOU do better, Macaque?

(In a way that is more satisfying than “one kind-hearted speech from a kid that I tried to murder changed my mind and now I am a better person but all my character development happened offscreen and without personal introspection”, at least.)

Also what the fuck do you mean by “do better”?

Be heroic and put your life in danger? He already does that! He’s done it more than you have!

Just tell MK that he’s not alone? YOU COULD DO THAT YOURSELF, MACAQUE!

Help MK with his traumas and fears? MK doesn’t tell anyone about those! He keeps them bottled up, lock and key, and actively refuses attempts to help!

Wukong TRIED to reach out to him, and MK PUSHED HIM AWAY! Was he supposed to tie the fucking kid down and torture the information out of him?

He respected MK’s boundaries by not pushing any further and letting him leave!!

WHY IS THAT A BAD THING??

What the fuck, man

[kandlewick]

twst diety au but imagine a mysterious trickster god who takes the form of an eelmer. he is known as being incredibly fickle, whose entire personality can change at the drop of a hat. sometimes offerings given would be accepted, sometimes they'd be refused. nobody could figure out what the deity wanted. on one occasion, rare mushrooms were left at the altar and the village had never seen such an abundant harvest. when the same offering was left for the next season however, the crops shriveled up and died. the only reason your village even survived was because of the last harvest and the easy access to the coastline.

you, a simple acolyte of this mysteriously fickle diety, discover that your patron is not a single eelmer, but two. identical twin deities under one domain. the reason none of the offerings seemed to work more then once had become clear now as they both were almost polar opposites.

"why did you not tell us there were two of you?" you asked from your spot on the ground, having had dropped to your knees in reverence. your head was pressed against the wet sand in the little alcove that his— their— shrine was tucked away in. "all this time we could have given you more offerings, better offerings. we could have even made a second shrine instead of our crops failing—!"

one looked down at your from his spot amongst the rocks, his eel tail slapping noisily against the wet stone as his eyes narrowed, "we did tell you."

the other twin smiled, "surely you're not blaming your gods for something your people have forgotten, hmm?"

gasping in horror, you quickly lifted your head and shook, embarrassment clear on your face, "forgive me, that's not what I meant!"

"don't worry your pretty little head, shrimpy!" one giggled, his one yellow eye narrowing in delight, "being two seperate gods is too much work anyways!"

"twice the workload and having our power split in two doesn't sound like an appealing offer if I may say so." The other one smiles with his teeth. his voice was soft and gentle but the sharp rows of needles in his grin was enough for you to sweat under your robes.

"we will just have to make you our personal acolyte to make sure your humans bring us exactly what we desire~"